Horns

Here, in Bhutan, there are horns. Yaks have horns. And cars have horns.

Cars with horns are not uncommon in NZ, where I come from (in this life).

Most drivers there are used to seeing cyclists. Not so used to seeing people walking on the road. Or cars coming towards you in the middle of the road.

Drivers have to use the horn more here. As well as informing pedestrians to move over, it is used as you round a sharp bend. Hopefully and car coming the other way will watch out. Even more useful if the approaching out-of-sight vehicle is a large Tata truck, careering along at full speed.

When I cycle the Thimphu roads, I hear the horn a lot. It amuses me that they think I cannot hear them coming. Most drivers would not have ridden a bike. The trouble is that I am used to the horn being blown in aggression. My immediate interpretation is that. I forget that they are just politely letting me know. I am slowly adjusting. Sometimes I get a little angry if a car passes without blowing its horn. How impolite!

Other times, like the other day, my reaction is to turn around and glare. An aggressive response from this meek and mild Buddhist wannabe. Or even give the fingers. 

I glared the other day when an approaching car repeatedly blew its horn.

"I know you are coming. What is all the fuss about?"

The approaching car was the Royal Body Guard vehicle that leads the way for His Majesty.

Oops.