Navigation in Hanoi Traffic

Just keep walking slowly and deliberately, I remind myself as I stand in front of a five-way intersection. Target: Hoan Kiem Lake at the other side of the intersection. Obstacles: a sea of moving buses, cars, motorbikes, and bicycles. Goal: get across the street and stay alive.

Waiting for the light to change is out - there's no traffic light. Instead, I would just have to step into traffic like everyone else. I take a deep breath, get a lungful of exhaust, cough, and step off the curb. Walking at a steady pace, I watch as all the traffic goes around me: cars, motorbikes, and bicycles all gauge my walking speed and either swerve left or right. Everyone is honking their horns, not at pedestrians, but to annouce their presence or their intention to overtake. I am immersed in a cacophonous mix of airhorn noise of every type: the terse high note beep, the drawn out bass punch, the cheerful musical ditty, the polyphonic echo toot, there are too many to count. Before long, I am at the other side of the street without even a scratch. Yes! The skills I developed previously in all the Asian cities are starting to come back. And this is the art of crossing the street in Asia.

While a steady pace can generally keep me safe as a pedestrian, it's a different story as soon as I get on a bike. When my two legs are replaced by two wheels, I have just joined the rest of the rolling traffic. I now have to dodge pedestrians and negotiate with all the motorbikes, cars, and buses for space and priorities. From riding around Hanoi these last two days, I've developed a heightened sense of hearing and peripheral vision. At an intersection, I'd have to look straight ahead for any oncoming turning traffic and motorbikes coming down the wrong way, but at the same time use my peripheral vision to scan for any buses or cars coming from either side, on top of that, always watch out for pedestrians and listen for honking horns. A little swerve here, a bit of braking there, turn a wheel a few degrees to keep balance, step on the pedals when all parties have selected their paths, and the intersection is safely crossed. On I go until the next intersection, then it starts again.

Such is the rhythm of life in Hanoi. The traffic flow is best described as controlled chaos. It's a dance, an impromtu choreography. Every Hanoian participates in this dance on a daily basis. Everyone is aware of his surroundings and constantly plans his next step. No one insists on his right of way. As a result, very few collisions happen and everyone gets home safe.