vlad.tribnet.com / Issue #150 / Social life / Reading article...

As any health-conscious foreigner here knows, Vladivostok streets must be approached with caution. The act of crossing, if it cannot be avoided, takes patience, courage, and a healthy dose of caution. Russians, on the other hand, seem to take all those intimidating cars in stride, and reveal that cars in Vlad need not be feared, but simply respected.

When I first arrived, I was stunned that Vlad drivers could apply survival-of-the-fittest principles so assiduously to their driving styles. I cursed these neo-Darwinians, and was incredulous at their arrogance on the road. And I was equally amazed that mothers often took baby in hand and ran the asphalt gauntlet with such nonchalance.

Eventually, though, I came to understand the precarious dance Vlad residents share with their more mobile comrades, and began to take part — timidly at first — in this carefully orchestrated ballet. As everyone around here knows, if a Vlad street has a traffic light, it’s either broken or ignored. Yes, a busy intersection may look chaotic, but careful examination reveals that drivers follow clearly defined laws of the road. With a little tenacity, one learns, even the most timid drivers pass through the worst traffic jams without a scratch.

So too with pedestrians. Carefully edging out into the road, lane by lane, a pedestrian will note that drivers are perfectly aware of the “personal space” they may not infringe upon. This space may be only two inches around the body, but it exists nonetheless.

In addition, drivers understand that a pedestrian may dart out at any moment, and keep one wary foot hovering over the brake pedal while the other forces the accelerator mercilessly into the car floor.

I recently stood at the edge of a street made impassable by a stream of cars. To my left, a young woman threaded between bumpers as beautifully as a ballerina executing a tourjete. Her secret? Stick to the potholes. They’re too big to avoid so drivers simply must resort to braking. The pause allows one to slip across the street unharmed, almost as if nature designed it that way.