Me vs the Motos (I always lose)

The bikes are at the bottom, competing with the cyclo taxis for last place, but since a loaded cyclo is not stopping as quickly as a bike, the bike get the bottom spot.

Next are the motorbikes, who all have inferiority complexes and like to think they are on top, even though they're smaller. They also think they're faster than everyone else, which isn't true, everyone goes at right about the same pace. But the motos think they're fast and they think they're important, and they always cause the most trouble.

Next are the tuk tuks, though they are arguably below the motos, as even though they are bigger they are slower. I can't figure out how they got the reputation for driving too quickly.

Up next are the smaller cars, which are usually somewhat unobtrusive but bigger than the rest.

Then the large SUVs, the number of which is booming as the nouveau-riche find various ways to show off, and so the bigger and the more prominently "lexus" is splashed across the side, the better. The drivers, usuall checking or talking on one of their three iPhones, know they are bigger than everyone and just go when and where they want -- except they, unlike the motos, stop for red lights.

Above this is a collection of large lorries and trucks, and in and out of the above mess are your various moto trailers. Not counted are the vendor carts, usually on bicycle or moto, puttering along.

In the U.S., if there is no light and a four way stop, everyone will stop and one by one go in order. Here, everyone goes forward until someone is in their way, and then waits to sliver through whatever available space they can find. Red lights do not mean stop, they mean if there is traffic, stop, and if not, go.

There are the hotshots on their absurdly large motorbikes that you sort of crouch strangely atop and blast through traffic, something that motos piled with young school students also do. One of the worst is, I think, the female drivers, who are really quite passive-aggressive. They sit with their knees held daintily together, and worm their way through the traffic, pulling past so close you just have to brake and let them pass.

Someone is always getting cut off. Someone is always going down the wrong side of the street, and there is always a near collision between someone at least once on every ride. People seem to accept these as everyday, as they don't honk, just screech the brakes and wait to see who will move first. At most a dirty look or two is exchanged.

The horns are used instead just to warn people they are coming.

Although I know how to deal with it, it's always stressful and I still get frustrated with the moto drivers. I think if they just learned that red light means stop, and the city invested in some stop signs, already life would be improved.

And in the mean time -- I'll just keep getting cut off.