He looked left and right, picked up his bag and started running like a maniac. He stopped for a stubborn, speeding car then miraculously jumped out of the way of a microbus. Having reached the other side of a five metre-wide road in downtown Cairo, Assem was pale, drenched in sweat and frightened. But, amazingly, he had fulfilled his mission: crossing the road. In the Egyptian capital, home to an estimated 20 million citizens, a double-edged problem irritates passengers and drivers alike; on the one side, Cairo is known for its continuous traffic jams and on the other the number of road accidents is constantly increasing, thanks to the primitive design of most of the city's streets and main roads. If you try walking down any street from Nasr City to Maadi south of the Egyptian capital, you'll feel the same relief as Assem once you manage to get across the road (if you survive, that is), simply because there are hardly any bridges or tunnels for pedestrians. "Crossing the road to my work is the hardest part of the day," Assem, 34, who works for a company in the upmarket district of el-Agouza, told the Egyptian Mail. "I'd rather spend an extra 20 minutes driving to my company's building, but when I'm late I have to risk my life." Paradoxically, Assem is used to it. That's why he didn't bat an eyelid when the microbus driver who'd nearly killed him started swearing at him. Nor did the other pedestrians show the slightest surprise; they've seen it all before, hundreds of times. "Years ago, what the driver said would have drive me crazy, but I'm cool with it now. Thank the Lord I'm still alive. If I could choose between being occasionally offended and being run over and killed, I'd go for the first option," Assem said with a bitter smile. Despite his daily sufferings, Assem, like the majority of Egyptians, somehow manages. The problem appears quite different when Dana Leander, a Scottish tourist, describes it. "I know one thing: if I went down there alone I'd die in one second," Dana, who arrived in Cairo two days ago, says seriously. "On my first day, I wanted to see the city so I went walking. I searched for an hour for a footbridge or even a marked area that would allow me to cross the road, but I found nothing." Dana, who's staying in el-Doqqi district, was only too glad to cut short her sightseeing and return to her hotel. She'd decided to copy her fellow Egyptians, but failed. "I was, apparently, the only person bothered by bridges, marks or traffic signals; everyone else was just crossing to the other side," she explains. "I watched them for about an hour, then thought it was easy. I tried to the same, but it was a mess." Thankfully for Dana's sake, the road she decided to cross was a small, slow one. Thus it was only the screeching of brakes, followed by the even louder horns, that terrified the 56-year-old tourist on her first day in the most populous Arab country. The absence of these essential urban facilities is quite ‘impressive' for Michael Adams, a Briton who has been in Egypt for three months now. "You become very skilful very quickly. That's why Egyptians can survive anywhere, thanks to their fast reflexes," says Adams lightheartedly. This 43-year-old teacher, who loves the chaos and drama of the Egyptian streets, has swiftly adapted. "Some people see it as dangerous or disorganised, but I see streets here as a wide platform for freedom. There is no other place where you can jump, run and suddenly stop while crossing the roads. I love it and my only worry is that I won't be able to adapt again to the strict rules when I one day return to England!" The Egyptian Government has been trying to deal with traffic problems for quite some time now. The plan includes moving administrative and residential units to the outskirts of Cairo. This might reduce the dreadful traffic jams, but it surely won't solve the crossing-the-road issue. As for Marwa Othman, a working mother, she pays LE300 per month to get a nanny to walk her 12-year-old daughter to school and back. It isn't far, but it involves crossing two very dangerous roads. "The problem is that Reem's [the daughter] school is just two streets away from our house so her friends call her a 'baby' who can't walk to school alone," says her mother. "Crossing two roads with no signs, bridges or even a policeman is very risky. I can trust my daughter, but I can't trust the speeding, irresponsible drivers," Marwa stresses. Drivers are always blamed when it comes to road accidents and all the chaos, but they too suffer. "I call upon those officials who are in charge to do something; we are going nuts out there," Amina Abdel-Hadi, 27, says anxiously. Amina has hardly slept at night since she started driving a month ago, as she is always frightened of hitting someone who darts into the road. "They pop up suddenly from nowhere," she says. "Yesterday I burst into tears when I missed hitting someone by a whisker. So far, I've avoided an accident, but for how long? Sooner or later I'll hit somebody; perhaps it's not the pedestrians' fault, but it's certainly not my fault. Someone must do something about this soon."
