I arrived in Taiwan fresh from California in July of 1976. In my homeland the law stated that a pedestrian in a crosswalk had the right of way. Motorized traffic was supposed to stop. Whether the rule was honored or not “depended.” Life in Taiwan was not like home.

I was accustomed to cars slowing down when I stepped into a crosswalk, so was astonished that no deceleration took place in similar cases in here. Approaching drivers estimated respective locations at the time we should meet and steered to miss me to one side or the other. My own initial calculations misinterpreted their intentions. More than once I bolted for the curb, causing surprise on the part of the drivers and consternation on that of anyone walking with me.

Now I know how to cross streets in Taiwan and am comfortable standing on the double yellow line while all manner of wheeled transport passes by with centimeters to spare on either side. California is a distant memory.