I am making my way through the Monday, in an auto that tilts to the right on a road that looks like a smoke bomb exploded there.

The smoke I am told is to ward off mosquitoes. The auto tumbles along, and all the pests within in possibly die. On the cement divider between the street, the surviving pests of the human variety, create a racket with fireworks. The anticipated festival is more than a week away but that doesn't really hold anyone back.

The reds and greens of the signal lights blink at us, and watch us not follow a single traffic rule.