Sandcastles and driving in the developing world

Events of the day:

Woke up slow and received a meticulous and much need hair cut. (the hairlady practically cut them one at a time.) Then went for a long drive through the city. We spotted 111 cows thus far on the trip and are keeping a running tally. Drove out to an ocean overlook where my tree fetish was satisfied by these monstrous jungle beauties... (so we're clear, monstrous jungle beauties refers to the trees...)

After that, we drove back into the city and went to the beach where I introduced Harini, Teju's cousin, to the meticulous arts of sandcastle construction. We also shot balloons with bb guns, and much to my shame, I was ruthlessly out shot by tej... Upon returning we ate, read, and went to a local ice cream parlor for butterscotch shakes. Delicious day.

However pleasant all these light hearted, picture book experiences may have sounded just now they were over shadowed at least in part by one moment that I was unable to shake from my mind. On our way through traffic to the ocean overlook we passed an accident that had just occurred- A truck and a motorcycle, head on, one fatality. The only laws that rule these roads are Newtons, and one cannot help but assume that for the millions of people in this city and all over the developing world, what we witnessed was not uncommon. With the chaotic weave of developing world traffic, one assumes that this sort of thing must happen, that eventually someone misses a gap they're shooting, someone fails to yield, and people die. To see this heretofore remote hypothetical brought to life is hard to forget as you weave through traffic fully conscience of the violence that is a hairbreadth away.