Introduction
Mexico City, a bustling urban metropolis where punctuality is a rare commodity, faces a modern-day plague that doesn’t appear in pest control directories or public safety bulletins: motorcyclists. While not all are problematic, their numbers are significant enough to make the horn an extension of the automobile driver’s nervous system.
The Chilango Motorcyclist
The young motorcyclist in Mexico City is always in a rush. It doesn’t matter if it’s six in the morning or eleven at night, whether it’s raining, shaking, or a holiday; they’re in a hurry. To where? We don’t know. Perhaps to save the world, deliver a lukewarm burger, or merely prove that traffic regulations are a work of fiction.
They emerge from thin air. From the blind spot of the rearview mirror—that legally recognized black hole—suddenly appears a motorcycle with two people, three backpacks, and if lucky, a helmet that seems more decorative than protective. Beware, innocent automobile driver, if you dare to honk or raise an eyebrow; you’ll receive a shower of creative insults, masculine challenges, and murderous glares. Because the young motorcyclist doesn’t converse; they confront.
They weave between cars at high speeds, eager to overtake everyone, in this desperation they scrape mirrors, scratch doors, and hit pedals and handlebars. The automobile driver rarely notices at the time; they discover it later, at home, when they see the scratch and wonder what sin they committed in a previous life. There are no witnesses, no responsible parties; only the certainty that a motorcycle passed by.
Food Delivery Riders: Exploited Heroes of Digital Capitalism
Special mention goes to food delivery riders, those exploited heroes of digital capitalism. They go faster, angrier, and more desperately. The app owners—sorry, platforms—call them “partners,” a magical word meaning: no insurance, no benefits, and the guilt of arriving late. They do have a reason to hurry because every minute costs money, app stars, and likely family rent or food.
However, this doesn’t justify riding without a helmet, against traffic, or believing oneself immortal.
Cyclists: The Protected Species of Progressive Thought
Adding to the motorcyclist plague are cyclists, that protected species of progressive thought and ecological discourse. Of course, the intention is good; using bicycles is desirable, healthy, and modern. The issue lies in how it’s done in this surreal city where nothing has continuity, not even common sense.
Bike lanes appear and disappear. In one street, they exist; in the next, they vanish, leaving the cyclist at the mercy of fate, as if just entered a parallel universe turned parking lot. Moreover, in these supposedly reserved bike lanes, cars can’t invade them even if they’re empty. The result: chaos. Traffic slows, thickens, and becomes more quintessentially Mexico City.
Some cyclists also ride on sidewalks—that original pedestrian space, those forgotten beings—and others go against traffic, why not? The law is a suggestion, and the traffic light is an opinion.
Accidents and Collective Justice
Be cautious if an accident occurs. If a motorcyclist or cyclist is hit by an automobile driver due to recklessness, poor driver. It doesn’t matter if the driver was going 20 km/h within the rules; they’ll automatically be at fault. In seconds, more motorcycles and bicycles appear, along with improvised witnesses. They surround the car, hit it, shout, and threaten. Justice is collective, instantaneous, and emotional.
The Real Problem: Lack of Clear Rules, Authority, and Road Education
Amidst suicidal motorcycles, disoriented cyclists, and default-guilty automobile drivers, Mexico City continues to inch toward a future where everyone is right, and nothing is respected. The plague isn’t on the wheels but in the lack of clear rules, real authority, and road education.
Key Questions and Answers
- How have you behaved this year? I wrote to Santa Claus, and he blocked me.
