Ape Rifle

Office parking for the 21st century?

Something is amiss in the fine city of Montreal. Having lived abroad for the better part of the past five years, the last few times I have returned home for a visit I’ve noticed the growing presence of cyclists on the streets. With my most recent and somewhat more permanent return to the Montrealer fold, I’ve been taking long walks around town to reacquaint myself with the place and its ways. One thing I’ve noticed on these expeditions is not only are their more bikers on the streets, but they are now being accommodated as never before- although evidently the bar was set extremely low given this is a North American city. Bike parking is appearing in new projects, public spaces and outside office buildings; plans for a major expansion of the city’s bike paths, potentially cutting through the heart of the downtown core, are in the works. City planning, it would seem, is finally recognizing the real needs of cyclists (and pedestrians) in an urban world so traditionally hell-bent on accommodating the private automobile.

Growing spaces for pedestrians and cyclists

And yet it is probably best not to get too carried away with hope quite yet. These changes are evidence of a slow and painful evolution rather than a true revolution in how we understand the shape and function of our cities. With the convergence of environmental worries, traffic gridlock and a population that is increasingly sedentary and out of shape, the encouragement of cycling in dense urban cores makes perfect sense. Yet how much of our urban space is truly reoriented to prioritize bicycles (let alone people) as opposed to motor vehicles depends on the extent to which we can temper our continued love affair for the automobile. While bike infrastructure sprouts up as part of Montreal’s recent mini-construction boom, is this nothing more than a half-hearted effort to appear environmentally enlightened?

The truth is that biking in an urban centre such as Montreal won’t reach critical mass until more people feel that it is a safe and enjoyable experience. Away from the bike paths, cycling on the majority of this city’s streets would appear to remain a rather stressful and even dangerous experience, unless you enjoy getting sandwiched between a bus, an SUV and a row of parked cars with a scant foot or two to spare. Bikes have yet to be truly accepted as part of the urban fabric, seen instead as barely tolerated intruders on the sacrosanct domain of motor vehicles. We’ve been so ingrained our whole lives to understand cars as the only normal mode of transportation (everything else been reserved for history, the park or poorer countries), that it will probably quite some time before many of us accept that, in many instances, cycling just makes more sense. Of course, it doesn’t help that so many cyclists brazenly disregard the rules of the road and fly through stop signals as if these don’t apply to them. This does nothing but foster further conflict with drivers and perpetuates the notion that bikes are somehow ‘outside’ the normal context of city streets.

I am heartened by the growing presence of bikes on Montreal’s streets, and applaud the greater attention paid to their accommodation in the urban core. However, I am not so naive to believe that the automobile is anything less than the still undisputed king of the pavement. While public places in hip urban neighbourhoods win awards for environmental design, the mainstream mass of our cities sprawl ever further with road construction and soulless car-centered development. It’s 20% change, 80% business as usual. And until we manage to break that association, embedded in so many of our minds, between the automobile and the idea of convenience- which persists so strongly despite a growing disconnect with the reality of traffic jams and air pollution - the bicycle is in danger of remaining a niche market when it should instead be gaining mainstream, even prominent, status in urban transportation. Ultimately, the evolution of urban transportation most take place in our minds as much as on our streets.

Business as usual, circa 6pm

From the pristine reaches of the Mainland….

…to the sweet comfort of your family fridge.

Some people seem to believe that transnational production processes thrive on inequality and exploitation. While countless numbers toil away in harsh conditions for long hours only to bring home paltry sums to their shack dwellings/dormitories set in fouled, apocalyptic landscapes, a more select group of individuals bask in the glow of endless consumerism, lattés, laptops and two cars in every garage. So that someone like myself in Canada can enjoy clean air, gorgeous vistas and encounter industrialism for the most part only in its end state of processed things in shiny boxes, someone somewhere in China must live neck-deep in environmental destruction, struggling to stay afloat above a sea of toxins, heavy metals and dangerous fumes. But hey, that’s life and capitalism, as someone cynical would say. Besides, things will change, as someone quite a bit more naive would say.

But perhaps things aren’t quite as unfair as they seem. Are people like me really getting away clean with cheap everything while China poisons its own? Well, apparently not. First, there was talk of air pollution from China making its way to the shores of this fair continent. Now, there is a chance that you are ingesting some of that polluted goodness, with China becoming a major exporter of food products. I guess you could say we are getting a taste of our own medicine in the end. We poison you, you poison us: that seems like fair global trade to me.

The funniest (or saddest) part for me is that one of the major factors weighing in on my decision to leave China all those years ago (ok, 3 years ago) was my health. I had a great experience but often couldn’t completely get over the feeling that I was doing bad things to my body just by living there. As much as possible, I tried to avoid imagining where my food came from- or how many factories were dumping untreated effluent into the field where it was grown. With the general and thorough toxicity of the mainland (forget for a moment unscrupulous outfits intentionally loading their products with crap), I have a hard time believing anything not grown, raised or processed in a hermetically-sealed government lab 50 floors underground- using all imported ingredients -is free of a sketchy substance or two. China is an environmental mess, and that can’t necessarily bode well for the quality of its food and food products. And thanks to my own society’s slavish devotion to the god of low cost, it seems I’m increasingly partaking in that feast. Bon appétit!

Update: more food for thought.

Westmount, Quebec, Canada

Paris, France

Zibo, Shandong, P.R. China

Hangzhou, Zhejiang, P.R. China

London, UK

Pemba, Mozambique

I am one to believe that the plainting cries of homogenization that so often accompany talk of globalization, the grand story of our time, are greatly exaggerated. Above I have posted images of the various neighbourhoods of my life, a crude example of the very different worlds that co-exist on our single planet. In each of these places, a deep mix of history, geography, culture and environment conspire to render superficial any claims of similarity based on shopping patterns or vehicles driven.

Granted, the various spaces of our globe are more connected in some ways than ever before, more deeply intertwined through the absurd machinations of trans-border industrial production (next to come, outsource your life?). But a “global village” we surely are not; we remain, above all, local creatures. Only the place we are in is real to us at any one time- the other locales we might have known, the other places we may have visited or lived, are nothing but strange dreams until we reach them again. Perhaps this is our mind’s attempt to make sense of the wildly different realities which are but a plane flight apart, of the immense variety of conditions that can be classified under the rubric of human existence. Culture shock, after all, is the collision of a mind attached to one place with the reality of another.

I have lived in all the realities pictured above, their wildly divergent conditions in turn acting as standards of the human condition. When you are in one place, the others- in their entirety, in their form, in their perspective, in their outlook - rarely if ever make sense. As I sit here in Canada once again, I struggle to understand that life over there still somehow exhibits the same normality as when I lived there. Although I can easily communicate with such places, their realities are as far away as ever. And I don’t think shipping crates crossing oceans will do much to change that.

Sorting through the digital stack of photos I took in southern Africa, I came across these two which unintentionally bear a striking resemblance to one another. The first was taken in Bilibiza, a small outpost in the far rural reaches of northern Mozambique, while the second is from the streets of Khayelitsha, a massive township on the outskirts of Cape Town, South Africa. In their eerie similarity, these two shots indicate above all that boys will be boys across borders and worlds, full of energy, mischief and more often than not up to no good. However, these glimpses of two facets of reality in southern Africa also get my brain cells churning: Which boy do you think is happier? Are urbanization and industrialization the societal messiahs we so often claim them to be? Will the boy in the first picture ultimately end up in the reality of the second, dependent on cash for survival? Can the boy in the second picture imagine the quiet beauty of the first, surrounded as he is by a world of wires, twisted metal and diesel-belching trucks? Or perhaps, again, boys will just be boys, turning whatever environment they’ve got into a world of adventure ripe for exploration.

For some strange reason, many people seem to take a perverse pride in the poor driving habits of their respective societies. Multiple locales are locked in an unspoken competition to claim the world’s worst or craziest drivers, as if chaos on the roads somehow signals a society’s innate superiority over another. The phrase “You think this is bad? You’ve obviously never been to (enter place name here)” is becoming an internationally recognized form of gloating. Of course, the dynamics of reckless lane swerving differ markedly according to the cultural or geographic setting- in some places they are based on a deep disregard for traffic rules, while in others the blame can be leveled on poor road design, congestion, the sheer impatience of drivers or even the tendency for livestock to take leisurely strolls on highways. The results, however, are often tragically the same- gruesome expressway collisions and overturned buses at the bottom of ravines. Despite this very bloody outcome, however, the glory attributed to a society’s daring vehicular habits continues to be sought unabated. There really seems to be some strange global satisfaction in being informed by a visitor that one’s cultural driving habits are “crazy”, as dangerous as they may be.

South Africa, however, is different. A nation of wild, curb-jumping drivers it is not, nor is it a maelstrom of sedans, donkey carts, cyclists, buses and wrong-way traffic à la Asia. Contrary to popular belief, South Africans are partial to a well-ordered traffic system and a strict driving code of conduct simple enough for any visitor to grasp after a few forays into traffic. The care and attention devoted to road management is perhaps due to the central role of the private vehicle in this society: with its perfect storm mixture of suburban sprawl and crime-fueled paranoia, life revolves completely around the automobile for anyone with enough money to afford one. Even the slightest contemplation of walking from point A to B is considered a sign of mental illness in the middle and upper classes- and it doesn’t help that points A and B are almost invariably 27km apart. South African urbanism is dominated by the private automobile like few other places on earth, which makes perfect sense since such a large proportion of the non-white population rely on public transportation to get around. This deeply inclusive approach to planning is a testament to the enlightened nature of apartheid policy.

But I’m getting off track here. The point is that whether you are visiting South Africa as a relatively affluent tourist or a dirty broke backpacker, chances are you will get behind the wheel of a rental car at one point or another. Having spent almost two months in the country, I managed to go through three different vehicles (no I didn’t crash them, they were just three separate rentals). Having thus gained a basic grasp of South African road rules, my experience can hopefully be of assistance to any would-be travelers to this gorgeous and fascinating country. For this purpose I have put together a basic guide to help you on your way should you choose to explore the magic of the N1 between Pretoria and Johannesburg. Enjoy!

Safety First: The Foreigner’s Guide to Driving in South Africa

1) It is forbidden to be behind another vehicle at all times
This basic regulation is the core tenet of South African driving. It is forbidden to be a reasonable distance behind another vehicle while traveling at a reasonable speed. If you absolutely must be behind another vehicle in any given lane, it is obligatory to tailgate it at high speeds- this is the sole exception to the rule. While visitors accustomed to more barbaric driving habits may be shocked at all the passing on the wrong side and/or into oncoming traffic, speeding in the emergency lane and reckless weaving in and out of lanes that ensues, please do not be alarmed: South Africans are merely showing their deep respect for this fundamental rule of the road. If you are turning at an intersection and the car waiting to turn behind you suddenly roars to high speed and cuts you off in mid-turn, do not become angry: he or she is merely showing you the greatest courtesy by not being behind you, even at the risk of causing a bewilderingly avoidable accident.

2) Lane changes must be effected in the proper manner at the appropriate time
This regulation follows on the first one: with it being forbidden to be behind another vehicle at any time, highway off-ramps and turning lanes become rather tricky. How are you supposed to make your exit or turn if many vehicles are lined up in front of you trying to do the same? As always, the South Africans have developed an ingenious response to this traffic quandary: don’t wait in line, and cut everyone else off at the last second with a dangerous swerve. This maneuver is quite simple in an expressway setting: although the exit ramps are on the far left, exiting vehicles must remain in the far right lane traveling at 160km/h until they are within 4m of the off-ramp. The exiting vehicle must then careen across several lanes and cut in front of all those irresponsible drivers who selfishly stay in the left lane to exit on the left.

3) Large vehicles must meet strict road-worthiness standards
Unlike some other so-called “developing” countries, South Africa is very strict about the road-worthiness of its countless lorries. It is evident that they all undergo regular and extensive inspection procedures before they are allowed to ply the many routes of this great nation. Each lorry is carefully checked to ensure that it chokes the roadway with billows of dirty exhaust to the extent that visibility is significantly reduced. Similarly, by law all large vehicles must struggle horribly up even the slightest incline, snarling traffic for many kilometers behind. Municipal buses are also subject to these regulations.

4) Minibus Taxis must pick up and drop off passengers at designated stopping points
The ubiquitous white minibus taxis plying the roads of South Africa provide transportation to a large portion of the country’s population. With casual pick up and drop-off service along their extensive routes, they offer a convenient way for the masses to get to menial service jobs 40km away from where they live. Of course, if it was unregulated this informal approach to mass transit could quickly lead to chaos on the roads. Thankfully, South Africa has taken the initiative to designate specific spots for the taxis to stop. Sensible spots such as the bends around blind corners and on highway ramps, for example. In addition, to further ensure safety, a minibus taxi must occupy no less than half the left-hand lane in moving traffic when it is stopped on the “side” of the road.

5) Mind Your Pedestrians
It does not need to be said that South Africa has a problem with crime. Nowhere is this more evident than in pedestrian behaviour- people sprint through traffic as if they are either a) the recent perpetrator of a crime or b) trying to escape from being the victim of a crime. This mentality means that the crossing zone of choice is most often in the middle of a block where cars are travelling at the highest speeds- this tactic ensures anyone running after them will likely get mauled by a BMW traveling at 190km/h in a 60km/h zone if they don’t get hit first.

6) The Recklessness of Anticipation
In South Africa, road conditions can be quite unpredictable. Freak storms, poor road maintenance, heavy traffic, endemic jay walking and confusing junctions can make for some rather interesting roadways. South Africans, however, compensate for this by driving at extremely high speeds under all circumstances and leaving the smallest possible room for error or braking. This is necessary to escape the men selling newspapers or sunglasses at every intersection whom are surely also carjackers.

And so there you have it. Next time someone tries to tell you that driving in South Africa is crazy, you can refute their bombastic claims by referencing this simple guide. South Africans don’t cherish bad driving like the rest of us- rather, they pride themselves on driving by the book and it shows on every road and at every corner. This is perhaps why the horrific traffic accident rate found there continues to baffle experts and confound all expectations. I would venture the guess that they are the product of irresponsible tourists behind the wheel who flaunt these road rules so cherished from the Cape to Kruger.

Star Wars meets the Matrix meets safari camping in Damaraland, Namibia.

Kliptown, Soweto, South Africa