A JAMAICAN man driving a car in Jamaica is a plethora of paradoxes. Is he mad or intensely clever? Is he fearless or careless? Does he revere human life or disrespect the spectre of death? Does he deem himself extra lucky or extra skilful? Is he playing daredevil or king of the hill? Is his destination more important than his life or the life of others? Is he in a hurry to get nowhere fast and risk lives in the process?
I have witnessed him on a mountainous road with 90-degree curves right ahead pull out to attempt to pass 20 cars in front of him, put his pedal to the metal, dodge 46 potholes, while doing 90 mph, face down 96 cars, cut back in at the last possible second, toot his horn in joyful glee, look over his petrified passenger and exclaim, 'Hey man, me had two whole inches to spare'.
I have seen passengers lean out their windows and yell, 'drive faster, man'. But there is no more pitiful sight than to see two or three accident fatalities of metal and limb on the side of the road. They seem to be pondering the error of the ways, but who knows, they may be just wondering what would happen if they had just taken that 90-degree curve just a little faster. Toot, toot, beep, beep, I'm just passing through, musing.
