The Narrowed Lens: On the Other Side

I don’t know when my senses have been so alert.

We pulled out of the Link’s parking lot where our car has been stored for the past week, while we waited to get insurance on it. It’s not required to have insurance on your car in South Africa, oddly enough. Just the same, the way driving goes here, we waited the week before finally taking the car home.

We swing into the right turn lane. No problem. Everything’s still going as planned...meaning we’re still alive and in a functioning vehicle. Just act natural, Meredith. It’s perfectly normal to be sitting on the left-hand side of the vehicle and not have a steering wheel in front of you. Look; everyone’s doing it.

We approach our turn at the light and wait for the friendly little green arrow indicating that it’s our turn. But I have experience at this light. Todd and I have been passengers for a couple of weeks by this point, and this particular right turn is no joke. The reason being is that driving in Africa is more of an art than a science.

When the coast appears to be clear and light still says we can go for it, Todd lurches out into the intersection and once again I’m swinging headlong into the left lane. We made it! Our first major turn together. We may live to tell this story yet.

We are obviously not the only ones on the road in the city of Pretoria. We have plenty of company. The vehicles that strike the most fear in my heart are the taxis. I do not call them taxi cabs, because there is nothing cab-like about them. They are large, white vans with a yellow stripe down the middle on each side. They roam all over the roadways, seeking whom they may devour, and generally doing as they please. You can hear them honking for no particular reason, turning in a non-turning lane, and running red lights. Again, driving is not a science here. You see taxis everywhere, sometimes parked along the side of the road (or maybe not) as their victims board to be flown to their next destination.

You also know you’re not alone by simply glancing down the sidewalks, or the side of the road, whatever’s handy. I know I’ve been appointed co-pilot when Todd says to me, “You’ll have to help me watch for pedestrians.” That may be the first time I’ve been asked to monitor for the presence of a person or persons in our path, but the place is buzzing with them. I’m worried one will jump out in front of us; it’s a good thing those brakes are sensitive.

I catch myself sucking in air through my teeth and trying to brake by bracing myself against the dash; I think my mom experienced similar symptoms when I was learning to drive, actually...it’s probably not helping Todd’s confidence any, but I just haven’t learned to take it in silence yet.

It’s always nice to be turning off the roads and into the driveway or parking lot. But its especially nice to return to the driveway or parking lot later and find the car still there waiting for us. Car theft is a major industry here, so It’s never a guarantee that it won’t be stolen.

But really, so far, so good. God’s kept us safe and helped Todd relearn to drive with very few difficulties. So what if the gear shift is on the other side now? At least the clutch hasn’t changed feet.