Every day, in the early hours of morning, nearly half a million people in Puerto Rico get into their cars and begin their daily expedition to their respective workplaces. According to the 2000 Census, 89% of our labor force gets to work on a privately owned vehicle, and many of these individuals travel by themselves. The result is an epic traffic congestion that leads to hour-long commutes and is referred to lovingly as 'el fockin tapón'. This phenomenon has been ingrained into our psyche and, some could argue, has become part of our culture.
Let's face it, these traffic jams have become our favorite pastime. We look at each other from car to car, marveling at those that seem to be speaking to themselves. Shamelessly, we laugh at those unfortunate fools who did not realize how passionately they were singing along to the car stereo until it was too late, while raising our eyebrows at feeble minded mothers who feel that rush hour traffic provides the best setting in which to discipline their child with an open hand.
This all makes me picture an after-work talk between two colleagues going something like this:
-Hey man, what are you gonna do for the next 45 to 60 minutes?
-Uhmm, well... Sit in my car while in traffic, struggling with my own mind, so as to not lose my sanity.
-(Acts surprised, then laughs) Oh, I know man. I meant after.
At this time of the year, I have a tendency to romanticize the notion of traffic congestion, thinking about all the lovely people out on the street buying gifts for their loved ones. I think about how we're all headed somewhere, making plans, conspiring for a better tomorrow... I think of this and I smile. I smile, because I know in my heart that it's all bullshit but I must inevitably find a way to deal with this bumper-to-bumper madness because I have to, and not because I want to. We didn't choose this condition of living, it chose us. The system has not provided an alternative to driving to work, so we're left with no choice. I think of this every day for about 5 minutes after I get into my car, and then I go back to watching the fool in the car next to me, singing his heart away, completely unbeknownst to the fact that I can even see him. Ah, this is bliss.
Let's face it, these traffic jams have become our favorite pastime. We look at each other from car to car, marveling at those that seem to be speaking to themselves. Shamelessly, we laugh at those unfortunate fools who did not realize how passionately they were singing along to the car stereo until it was too late, while raising our eyebrows at feeble minded mothers who feel that rush hour traffic provides the best setting in which to discipline their child with an open hand.
This all makes me picture an after-work talk between two colleagues going something like this:
-Hey man, what are you gonna do for the next 45 to 60 minutes?
-Uhmm, well... Sit in my car while in traffic, struggling with my own mind, so as to not lose my sanity.
-(Acts surprised, then laughs) Oh, I know man. I meant after.
At this time of the year, I have a tendency to romanticize the notion of traffic congestion, thinking about all the lovely people out on the street buying gifts for their loved ones. I think about how we're all headed somewhere, making plans, conspiring for a better tomorrow... I think of this and I smile. I smile, because I know in my heart that it's all bullshit but I must inevitably find a way to deal with this bumper-to-bumper madness because I have to, and not because I want to. We didn't choose this condition of living, it chose us. The system has not provided an alternative to driving to work, so we're left with no choice. I think of this every day for about 5 minutes after I get into my car, and then I go back to watching the fool in the car next to me, singing his heart away, completely unbeknownst to the fact that I can even see him. Ah, this is bliss.
3 comments:
Traffic jams are our daily ordeal, they humble us and make us drones...
Los tapones nos convierten en bestias. En la ciudad, los carros magnifican la desconección y la super individualidad, indiferente al bien común.
Es mejor caminar por la acera. O, el transporte público. En una isla como ésta deberíamos tener transporte público adecuado.
That is not the case.
That's why I live in Santurce, it has the closest thing to public transportation. I can get anywhere from Old San Juan to Rio Piedras relatively easily. I only need a car to go to plaza, the airport, or the burbs.
The train actually works really well, I wish they would expand it to the airport and add light rail through santurce to VSJ. Then we'd be cooking.
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