The dilemma of pedestrian crossings or the elephant in the room

The respected American writer Stan Sesser claimed the most dangerous thing he ever did in Southeast Asia was try to cross the street in Bangkok. Beach Road and Second Road in Pattaya are not much different.

In most countries of the world, a zebra crossing is an invitation to the perambulator to exert a measure of authority over that metallic monster, the motorised vehicle. Ordinary citizens in most supposedly civilised nations will stride forth onto a zebra crossing, confident the magical properties of these man-made road etchings will grant them immunity from a fatal or injurious collision with on-coming vehicles. Zebra crossings are, in the minds of many, like an invisible force field, providing instant protection from bodily harm, no matter what the circumstance. This is not so in Southeast Asia, and most definitely not in Pattaya.

Unless you happen to be an elephant, trying to enforce the rights of a pedestrian on a zebra crossing should only be left to the clinically insane or suicidal.

So why have the city fathers deigned to provide them in the first place if they are not meant to be used by pedestrians? Is it some kind of twisted joke? ‘Let’s mark out those silly Western-style pedestrian crossings and see how many tourists are stupid enough to try and use them.’ Are hospitals and doctors really in need of that much business and medical practice?

Perhaps the government once mistakenly signed an international treaty calling for the introduction of pedestrian crossings on roadways, thinking instead they were agreeing to the sale of pachyderms for work in Zimbabwe. When they discovered the truth they could hardly say they’d made a mistake and pedestrian crossings wouldn’t work in Pattaya. ‘By the way, what’s a pedestrian?’

In a city like Bangkok, the authorities long ago realised the free flow of the motor vehicle was far more important than the needs of people who go around on foot.

In the stifling heat of Bangkok, only poor people, mad dogs and Englishmen actually use their legs for such a mundane activity as walking. Everyone else is either driven around by a chauffeur (the incredibly rich, politicians and leading gangsters), drive his or her own car (business people and up-and-coming gangsters); catch a bus, taxi or tuk-tuk (most of the rest).

So, since people who walk obviously enjoy exercise, the authorities responsible for maintaining traffic jams very thoughtfully built outdoor stair masters so pedestrians could not only cross the road but they could increase their heart rate and get aerobic activity into their daily routine.

These stair masters are cleverly marketed as pedestrian overpasses and consist of two flights of stairs, each of up to 800 steps and guarded at various points by decrepit looking people disguised as beggars, followed by a bridge traversing the roadway beneath and then a corresponding set of two flights so you can work your lower calves as you descend to the other side.

Of course, for people in wheelchairs, the elderly, the blind, infirm, the incredibly overweight and young children under the age of five, these stair masters are not recommended.

Pattaya has yet to build a single pedestrian overpass across either the Beach or Second Road’s. Instead, they have 279 traffic lights because they know pedestrian crossings are wonderful in an ordered society where everyone understands exactly what they are for, but not in the traffic maelstrom the resort has become in recent years. On occasions, three of these lights actually function, which comes as a great surprise to drivers and pedestrians alike.

In Pattaya, trying to do the chicken thing (i.e. get to the other side) is becoming an increasingly dangerous activity not to be undertaken by anyone with a serious heart condition, an injury that makes rapid movement difficult or impossible or who is over the age of 50 and carrying more girth than the average Sumo wrestler.

Hoping for a gap in the traffic is probably what inspired Samuel Beckett to write his famous- and exceedingly boring- play Waiting for Godot. Indeed, I’ve waited so long to try and get across Second Road on some occasions the local male mongrels, thinking I’m some form of human sculpture, have contemplated using my legs for their three-legged water ballet.

Just try fending off a bunch of crook-legged mongrels while edging out into oncoming traffic and dodging a flying Kawasaki Boss or Suzuki Smash and you will understand why the sooner the city erects an overpass or two, the better.

©Duncan Stearn