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Expatriate Journal - “When in Rome...”

I just returned from my yearly visit to my country of origin and had a most harrowing experience driving in Miami, Denver, and Los Angeles!

After 40 years of residence in Peru, one develops certain driving habits that become part of one's personality. My latest shock was departing from a Hertz rental station at the Miami airport in a Toyota Rius, a new hybrid that combines the traditional gasoline powered engine with an electric motor that takes over when you are idling to save gas. It took me almost three days to learn how to start it - only after you have all the preliminaries in place like the emergency brake, safety belt, and the normal break depressed, and finally, a delay of 20 seconds. This thing would be an absolute failure as a getaway car.

Once I got on the road, I was amazed to find people cruising at rather fast speeds but in an orderly fashion, respecting lanes and making signals which coincided with the direction they actually intended to take. Traffic lights worked with all three colors of red, amber, and green, and people actually stopped on red, even during the wee hours of the morning. One thing that did surprise me was to see drivers turning to the right at intersections on red, since Lima rules don't allow this. I also found people coming to a full stop at STOP signs in rural areas where there wasn't a stray dog in sight for 2 miles, let alone a golfer crossing with his cart. So much wasted time and energy! My years of experience sure did come in handy making unorthodox U turns, nosing into the left turn lane at the last moment, and I felt at home going through those red lights, even if only on right hand corners.

My Peruvian track record hasn't been so bad after all. I have survived many years of travelling through the Andes visiting mines 15,000 ft. above sea level, fording mountain streams with my VW beetle holding water half way up the door and still moving, and finding myself hanging over narrow roads with one wheel suspended in the air.

Recently in Lima I had just won 20 soles playing golf and was headed home at dusk. I respectfully full stopped at two red lights and proceeded. A dark windowed 4X4 blasted me over to the side of the road with its loud speakers and I sat patiently for the policeman to approach. “Do you know what you did wrong?” “I have no idea, officer.” “You went through a red light.” “I DIDN'T go through any red light. I purposely stopped and proceed according to the rules.” “Let me see your papers.” As it turns out, I had left my damned SOAT receipt at home and according to him, that was really serious. I would have to follow him to the comisería and suffer an expensive ticket. Naturally he asked where I was from, and I replied, “the United States of America!” “Oh,” he replied, “I've got a cousin in Patterson. You been here long?” I didn't dare say 40 years, as I wanted to appear to be a dumb gringo just off the plane. Not wanting to waste time and anxious to get home, I innocently said, “How can we settle this, officer?” “Just a minute. Let me consult my colleague.” Though the patrol car was only meters behind us, he made an officious call with his radio, supposedly, and returned to indicate that it was up to me. I ended up contributing my recently won 20 soles to the Policeman's Benevolent Fund.

Well, when I arrived home still steaming from having parted with my recently won stakes, I sat down and related my experience via the local Expatriate e-mail circuit, where any English speaking resident, gringo or otherwise can sell his or her furniture, find the best tattoo shop in Miraflores, search for roommates, clone Peruvian recipes, and even solve the Iraqi crisis in a matter of days. What an experience! Within three days, I had over 40 hits. Amongst the comments were whacks on the knuckles from freshmen missionaries who felt the wrath of the Lord would be upon me for corrupting the local “system,” and many veterans who have a few years more than I do here who thought I was crazy for contributing so much. One Canadian veteran said he purposely kept small bills in his ashtray for such occasions.

A tremendous debate ensued amongst the expats, and I just sat back and enjoyed the show. The issue of whether or not the police had the right to take your document or oblige you to go to the station got hot and heavy. Finally one expat sent a website published by the transit authority with the local Rules of the Road which detail all the rules, violations, rights, and fines, and yes, they can take you to the station if you don't have your receipt. With two cops swearing to their chief that the gringo went through a red light, I could foresee what my fate would have been at the station. If you want to review the 95 pages of rules and regulations, check out http://www.pnp.gob.pe/especiales/transito_r/transito.pdf. It is in good Spanish, and no local driver should be without a copy in his glove box.

Well, I continue to very respectful of the local customs. I am the last one who would want to contribute to corruption in this host country that has enough problems with local politicians, let alone having to worry about a few gringos going through red lights they really didn't go through in the first place, but who make good sitting ducks for the minority of the local force that thrive on “enforcing” the rules.

As to When in Rome…., I wouldn't recommend driving there unless absolutely necessary. The game is the same, and your contributions would be better invested in a good spaghetti dinner in the Gran Piazza. -- Jim Plunkett

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