RAN­DALL SUMAIRS­INGH

The traf­fic tragedy caused by Sun­day's Red Bull Flug­tag event is now pub­lic news, but on­ly those who were ac­tu­al­ly stuck in it (and those with a pos­i­tive at­ti­tude) can tell you just how much fun it was. Trapped in the grid­lock my­self, I had a unique point of view. I can­not speak for every­one be­cause many peo­ple were very frus­trat­ed and up­set (with good rea­son), but like true Tri­nis, many chose to make the very best of it. Trinida­di­ans can def­i­nite­ly make a fete out of any sit­u­a­tion.

A per­son­al re­count

I left my home in Mar­aval at 7 am, but got in­to a ve­hic­u­lar ac­ci­dent be­fore I could join the traf­fic. From what I even­tu­al­ly saw and heard, how­ev­er, avoid­ing that in­ci­dent would still not have got­ten me to the event. I joined the bumper-to-bumper epi­dem­ic at a lit­tle af­ter nine in the morn­ing. Due to not hav­ing my ve­hi­cle, I had to meet a friend, who came from South, to take me to the Flug­tag. The car I was in nev­er got much fur­ther than Movi­eTowne on the Fore­shore. We lit­er­al­ly didn't move the length of the en­tire cine­plex for about three hours.

Par­ty in the road

Af­ter one hour in the car, I de­cid­ed to open the door and stretch my legs as the road ahead showed no signs of things im­prov­ing. I then de­cid­ed to do some in­ter­views. "Is a par­ty in the road, man. How ya mean? We have drinks, we have food... Want a Stag awah?" replied one dri­ver when I ques­tioned his feel­ings about the sit­u­a­tion. He then prompt­ly pro­ceed­ed to open his trunk, crack a large cool­er and un­cork an ice-cold beer for me (even be­fore I could re­ply). Some peo­ple switched off their en­gines, put their cars in neu­tral and pushed them down the road. When one man no­ticed that he was be­ing ob­served he shrugged and shout­ed across to me with a smile: "Sav­ing gas!" We were lucky enough to have a mu­sic truck, (which was al­so stuck in the traf­fic) ful­ly equipped with a DJ, so­ca mu­sic and fun­ny com­ments about the traf­fic sit­u­a­tion.

In ad­di­tion, many peo­ple had packed cool­ers and snacks in an­tic­i­pa­tion for the long day; it was a good set­ting for a great lime. There were peo­ple danc­ing and lim­ing in the road and ven­dors sell­ing every­thing from re­fresh­ments to yo-yos in the stand-still traf­fic jam. Pas­sen­gers and dri­vers alike were al­so en­ter­tained by mul­ti­ple bik­ers who de­cid­ed to per­form a few stunts on the me­di­an which sep­a­rat­ed the west-bound and east-bound free­ways. How­ev­er, some who just could not bear the traf­fic any­more opt­ed for the next best thing.

"Beach is the plan boy! Next turn-off, we headin' Mara­cas!"

Many peo­ple head­ed home or to the beach at the first turn-off they got, while oth­ers who wait­ed a lit­tle longer had to re­sort to dri­ving over the me­di­an and mak­ing a "U" turn as they put plan "B" in­to ac­tion. Since I, too, switched to plan "B" even­tu­al­ly, Mara­cas Beach did end up be­ing the refuge for many peo­ple who in­tend­ed to at­tend the Red Bull Flug­tag, but were de­nied the op­por­tu­ni­ty due to traf­fic.