Traffic In Pakistan Vs The USA

NOTE : ( Ever felt stuck in never-ending traffic jams in Pakistan? From broken signals to open manholes and wild honking—it’s a daily struggle. But after moving to the USA, I saw a totally different world where traffic flows with calm and discipline. In this article, I’m sharing my real-life experience and the surprising differences between the chaos back home and the order on American roads ).

When I first landed in the USA, one of the biggest shocks I had wasn’t the tall buildings or the clean streets—it was the traffic. Or should I say, the lack of chaos in it?

Having come from Pakistan where roads are like a battlefield, I was used to the daily circus. Cars zigzagging into tight spaces, bicycles zipping around like on a video game, rickshaws honking their horns like the end of the world’s near, and buses stopping wherever they want—yes, even in the middle of the road. Let’s not forget the ultimate villain in this story: the open manhole. Seriously, how are those still a thing in 2025?

In my hometown in Pakistan, I had developed a sixth sense for traffic. You have to. You learn to guess what the other driver might do next—not because of signals or rules, but because of pure street instinct. Traffic signals were more like decorations. And God forbid if it rains… everything from choked gutters to knee-deep water and stalled cars adds to the drama.

Now, enter America.

The first time I sat in a car here, I was confused. Why is everyone so calm? Why are people stopping at red lights even when there’s no police around? And why are cars actually giving way to pedestrians?

I remember one morning in Chicago, I was walking to a nearby store.When I reached a crosswalk, a car came from the other way. I waited, expecting it to zoom past me.(Just like how it happens in Karachi, Lahore, Peshawar, or any other city in Pakistan.) But the driver stopped, smiled, and waved for me to cross. I looked around like I was on a hidden camera show. Was this for real?

It’s not just the drivers—it’s the entire system. (Speaking of the American system, let me tell you an interesting story. In my whole life, I’ve only gotten one traffic ticket. And honestly, it was quite an experience.

After coming home from work every day, I usually check my mailbox. One day, I received a letter from the city. It had my car’s number on it and said I had a $100 fine. There were two options: either pay the fine or go to court if I believed I didn’t do anything wrong.

I was confused. I thought, “What did I do wrong? No police officer stopped me. How did I even get fined?”

Then I noticed a video link and a QR code at the bottom of the letter. When I opened the video, I saw it was me—my car! I had taken a right turn without stopping completely, which is actually against the law here. That’s why I got the ticket.

Since it was clearly my mistake, I paid the fine online right away.

And now you tell me… do you think I’ll ever make that mistake again? Never!

That’s the beauty of the system here. Everyone follows the rules—because the system works).

Roads are smooth, lanes are clearly marked, and potholes? I haven’t seen one yet. Manholes are sealed properly, traffic lights actually work, and people respect them. It felt like entering a parallel universe.

In Pakistan, I remember getting stuck on Mall Road, Lahore, for over an hour. No one knew what caused the jam. A donkey cart, a VIP protocol, a broken-down bus—could be anything. Horns were blaring, people yelling, bikes climbing footpaths. In the USA, if there’s traffic, it’s usually because of a planned construction project or maybe an accident. But even then, there’s order. Emergency vehicles get space instantly—no one tries to outrun them like it’s a race.

Another small but beautiful thing: people wait for school buses to unload children. They stop their cars until every child is safely off the road. That kind of respect for life—it’s rare back home.

This doesn’t mean everything here is perfect. Americans do complain about traffic too, especially during rush hour in big cities. But compared to the madness we face daily in Pakistan, it’s a breath of fresh air—literally and figuratively.

I still remember my last week in Karachi, where I saw a guy driving on the wrong side of the road, casually drinking chai with one hand, honking with the other. Now compare that with my Uber driver in the USA who refused to make a U-turn because it wasn’t allowed, even though there were no cars around. That’s the difference—discipline.

So, what’s the takeaway?

Pakistan has amazing people, strong culture, and unbeatable street food. But when it comes to traffic, we seriously need to hit the brakes and fix the system. (Right now, I just want to talk about the traffic chaos in Pakistan and compare it with how things work here in the USA—especially the difference in how people drive, how common cars are, and how traffic systems are managed.

Later, I’ll write a more detailed article about the full system here in the USA—how everything is planned and works smoothly—so that maybe some responsible people in Pakistan can get inspired and think,

“Hey, we should bring this kind of system to our country too!”)

Better infrastructure, stricter rules, and public awareness can change things. It’s not impossible—we just have to want it badly enough.

Until then, I’m just here, silently enjoying the peace and quiet of an American traffic jam, which feels more like a polite queue than anything else.