Driving brings out the worst in most residents of Doha. Slowing or stopping to let a pedestrian cross
–at a crosswalk –means risking at most a rear-end collision, at least
frustrated honking. Almost no one obeys
the speed limits except for the fifteen meters beyond a speed camera or
if the traffic is backed up, though though that can lead to SUVs driving up over the curbs or cutting the line by aggressively wedging
themselves in. Lane lines are only vague suggestions, stop means yield, and yield only counts when there’s a bigger car in the other lane. I drive miles out of my way to avoid some intersections and hire a driver if I want to go to certain parts of town, where I know driving myself would likely reduce me to a shrieking swearing accident about to happen. There is an inevitable online debate whenever
someone posts publicly online about traffic: Arabs blaming all road problems on
South Asian drivers going too slowly in the left-hand lane, expats accusing
Arabs of being horrible bullying thoughtless speeders, Arabs accusing expats of
being politically correct, racist, and intolerant and alternately suggesting
that we go home if we don’t like it or that we shut up since we’re making good
money here. It’s lovely, a ready subject
if we don’t know what else to talk about (the weather being so predictable) and so easy to get caught up in, so easy to just add it to the
list of why we should not be living here.
The other day I was stopped in the left-hand turn lane and
this big truck came zooming up on my right and angled in just in front of my
car. I felt like I had two choices: I
could risk a rear-ending debacle by hugging the tail of the car in front of me,
or I could let the driver of the truck force his way in and grumble to myself
about male entitlement. The light was
long and just before it turned in my favor, I tried something new: I looked up
into the truck cab and caught the driver’s eye, then smiled and waved him
in. He smiled and waved back. 
A week later I tried it again- this time as the one who was attempting
to merge onto a busy road whose right lane was a slow parade of trucks. I mimed
my request to the guys in the truck next to me and they not only let me in, but
signaled when I could safely join the much faster traffic on the other side of
the truck line.
We crave human connection here. It’s amazing how much better
I can feel about even a traffic situation when there’s acknowledgement of our shared
humanity involved. How simple was it to
make eye contact, wave them in, receive their wave of thanks? There are still plenty of times that Land
Cruisers are encroaching on my lane from both sides in a roundabout, or speed
up behind me flashing their lights and there is not a moment to do anything but
hold on and get the hell out of the way.
If I stay angry about it they win.
I’m not going to give up on the smiling and waving.
Here are some links to traffic-related news stories, with typical comments sections:
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