Driving Miss Rebecca

In a previous post, I alluded to the way in which Georgians drive. It deserves a post on its own.

There are apparently three rules of the road, the first two of which are fast and first. When the roads are relatively clear of other vehicules, our drivers reached nearly terrifying speeds. What's worse, however, is their need to pass others, on curves, in front of oncoming trucks and farm machinery, up hills, on mountain roads... We foreigners, packed in the back seat with ministery representatives and assistants, cringed and cowered at near collisions, but to our Gerogian colleagues, it was business as usual. It is the law that front seat passengers and drivers wear seatbelts. Apparently, it's safe in the back seat. Nevertheless, some drivers are insulted when you reach for the required belt, and insist you don't wear one. I assure them that I trust their driving (a blatant lie), it's just the other crazy drivers I'm worried about.

Without question, the most hair-raising of all is the ministery driver who calmly took our lives in his hands. Thankfully, I only once had the pleasure of being his passenger in the 5 hour drive from Zugdidi to Tibilisi. Just before reaching the capital city, we encountered heavy traffic including car carriers and other massive trucks. At one point, while passing a long semi, he realized that the oncoming tractor-combine was approaching too closely and rapidly for him to maneouver around and in front of the aforementioned vehicule, so he quickly swerved left onto the nearly non-existant left shoulder, barely missing a concrete barrior before speedily returning to his proper lane. It is customary for Georgians to cross themselves when approaching the many churches on either side of the road. I believe I crossed myself before the driver recovered his proper place in the right-hand lane.

The last, but certainly not least rule of the road is that farm animals have the right of way. Cows roam freely in the villages and on the edges of the city, herds of which are sometimes slowly driven down and across roads. Some tend to stand in the middle of the road, contemplating whatever it is that cattle contemplate, with little or no inclination to move forward, backward or sideways. It is the driver's responsibility to accomodate them. I swore on several occasions that the outside of the windshield would be covered in bloodied hamburger and my cracked skull from the inside. I'm more than happy to say there were no collisions between car and cow.