My first year here, I had a college friend visit during the country’s spring break–Semana Santa. Wanting to give her the full tour, we drove outside the city, along with everyone else.
What is normally a two lane highway was transformed by drivers into four lanes, at least three of which were going one direction. Cars hanging off the shoulders, dodging oncoming traffic, it was another ruthless game of chicken.
Fed up with constantly being cut off by eager beach-goers, my last straw was with one driver that was within an inch of my car. Reaching out my window, in dead stop traffic, I pounded my fist on the hood of his car, shouting, “Hey, do you have insurance?” in my limited Spanish.
My friend slunk down in the passenger’s seat. The thirty-something year old driver, leaning in front of his rowdy crew, slowing smiled and responded, “Ay, mamasita!”
Sheepishly I rolled up my window and was forced to inch alongside the guy in traffic for the next forty minutes.