It is an old joke. But it is no less true because of it age.
And it appears to be a universal rule of driving. No matter the country in which I have driven, traffic control devices only partly control what drivers choose to do. Mexico is no exception.
As far as I know, the flow of traffic through Melaque on highway 200 has not been impeded by electronic signals since the highway was laid out. That all changed last year when two intersections entered the era of nanny government.
The signals are quite sophisticated. They have to be. They manage the control of traffic coming from eight lanes at one intersection and six at the other.
This summer I discovered, almost to my cost, that it is dangerous to assume that because a driver has a green light, drivers coming from other directions will comply with red lights. Not true.
I was driving Ed and Roxane over to La Manzanilla for dinner. We stopped at the intersection where Calle Alvaro Obregon meets Highway 200. I waited for the light to change and then started to turn left onto the highway.
I am not certain what made me take my foot off the accelerator. Intuition. Pilot instinct. Movement out of the corner of my right eye. Whatever it was, it was the right choice.
A white delivery truck barreled through the intersection, barely missing us. Followed by a second one. Had I not paused, someone else would have been writing on Facebook about the terrible accident on the highway.
About a month ago, I was waiting at the other controlled intersection behind an SUV with northern plates stopped at a red light. The driver noticed that the traffic to her right had started moving. So she did, as well. And ran into another SUV that was turning right. She failed to notice that she still had a red light. The traffic on her right was legally turning left on a green arrow.
With those two personal experiences in my memory backpack, I decided to do an informal survey at one of the intersections -- just to see how drivers were complying with the signals. I was going to stand there for an hour.
The hour stand did not happen. After about 12 minutes, I had had enough of the sun. But that experience gave me a better appreciation of the jugglers, windshield washers, vendors, and beggars who spend most of their day out in the heat.
In the brief time I stood there, I saw a good sampling of what I expected to see. Almost everyone complies with the signals. But a large portion do not.
The most common violation is driving through red lights. On each signal change, at least three cars in succession drove through the intersection immediately after the light turned red. But that behavior is common throughout the world.
The more dangerous maneuvers are the motorcyclists who will pass stopped cars and zoom through the intersection weaving between the cars entering the highway. Or the cars that ignore the red lights on the lateral streets and nearly collide with cars entering the lateral legally.
I did not include the several cars that stopped on a red, cleared for other traffic, and proceeded through the intersection. As if the light were a stop sign. I have done that myself. The trick is adequately clearing. Common sense trumps the law. I suspect that is exactly what the motorcyclists are thinking when they violate the red wall. Despite all of my tut-tut-ing.
Today's essay does have a moral. If you come from a culture where everyone complies with traffic signals (I assume that place would be on some planet far, far away), you may make assumptions that could lead to harm.
If you have a green light at those two intersections, carefully assess the offensive array that may be aimed at you before you enter the intersection. Right of way is a very tenuous argument when talking to the surgeons in ICU.
Similarly, do not assume that moving traffic next to you means you can also move. Left-turn lanes here are usually to the right of the main traffic flow. Moving at the wrong time is a good way to test out just how responsive your insurance agent is.
I love driving in Mexico. I moved here because I wanted to live in a place where, when I got up in the morning, I have no idea how I would get through the day. Driving here has perfectly met that criteria.
One of the first driving lessons I received from my father came with a moment of philosophy: "The moment you put your tires on the road, you are a dead man. If you return alive, it was a good day."
Here's driving with you, dad.
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