African Driving

Driving in Africa is completely different from driving in the States. It’s not just that you are more than likely driving a car with an automatic transmission, which is new for me, driving on the left-hand side of the road, and sitting on the wrong side of the car, with all the gears and controls, down to even the turn signals, backwards from where the should be. The hardest part of driving in Africa is making sure you don’t hit some kind of livestock, or, heaven forbid, a person.

In the US, it’s pretty well understood that if you’re walking or on a non-motorized vehicle, you need to stay out of the way of objects on the road that are bigger than you. Roads are territory that primarily belong to cars, trucks, and other vehicles that average speeds over 25 miles an hour. Most drivers are careful when they do see pedestrians, but the walkers pretty much try to stay out of the flow of traffic, if at all possible.

Not so in Africa. Here, a paved surface is an easier path to town or to the village, so that’s the best place to walk or bike. The roads belong to everyone, and the cars and trucks, and even motorcycles, are usually vastly outnumbered by walkers and bikers. Non-motorized vehicles generally stay on the outside of the road in whatever direction they are traveling, but they are also usually 2 or 3 deep, which leaves about a lane and a half in the middle of the road for larger vehicles… like me.

And this is usually not a problem. Until you meet another vehicle coming the opposite direction. The African unwritten road rules then say that the walkers and bikers must move over to give the two cars (or, in some cases, my small pickup truck and the enormous transfer truck coming on the other side) room to pass. Those on foot are supposed to yield to the larger vehicles. Supposed to.

I have learned in the short time in Africa that defensive driving reaches to a new level here. It’s not enough to watch the few cars or bicyclers in front of you. You must always be aware of what’s going on up ahead, as far as you can see. You have to have a plan, some kind of idea of what you’ll do should the oblivious biker in front of you swerve into your path. You have to know what’s coming. And honestly, I sort of like this kind of driving. Even more, I like this kind of life.

I want to know what’s coming up. I want to see what lies ahead. The thought of having to change direction on short notice scares the fool out of me. (Even though my life at this point has consisted of more changes of direction than a ride through the Blue Ridge Mountains!) And even though knowing what is coming is comfortable and safe, God keeps reminding me that I can’t live like that. I can’t live my life expecting to know what things will look like years, or sometimes even months, in the future. I have to focus on the right now, on the “where I am.” Right now where I am is Uganda. I am here until next October. After that, who knows? I don’t have the foggiest idea what the Lord has in store for me after next October… but I don’t have to. All I have to focus on is being here, and doing what He has for me here.

And trying not to run over random pedestrians.

So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Matthew 6:34