When the clock strikes 5 p.m. in Bogotá, a horde of cars finds itself stuck in an all-too-familiar congestion nightmare. A motorbike weaves in and out of lanes, trucks incessantly honk, and what seems to be hundreds of engines idle in the blistering Colombian sun. Even pedestrians add to the motor muddle, as they dart dangerously through the gridlock. But then a savior in stripes descends upon the fury. White face paint and charcoal-lined eyes accentuate an expression of utter horror aimed at the motorist who just ran a red…
