We were stuck in a traffic jam inSt Paul’s Bay the other day, a perfectly normal occurrence in this country. Cars begin to slow to a crawl, stop, and start again; drivers look irritably at their watches, the traffic inches along in increasingly infrequently moves forward.

The same group of cars stays together, their occupants become acquainted as rumours circulate as to the cause of the traffic, maybe an accident, the only explanation for such an incredible delay. With that come complaints about the government, taxes, road conditions, one topic after another; three metres, another commonplace comment, five metres, a sententious comment or a restrained curse. There’s hope that the police may come and dissolve this bottle neck.

Impatient to move along, the cars continue to move ahead as a group, suffering the dejection of again going from first to neutral, brake, handbrake, stop, and then the same thing all over again. Finally you find out that all this mess was because of some guys putting up some gaudy lights to decorate the streets for their village feast. You see, religion is a problem.