Another Taxi Story....Yawn

Over the course of the past two years, I figure I have alluded to taxis in some form in numerous posts....well, here is another one.

Typically, in the past, I have only shelled out for cabs in due necessity, whether it be that I'm in a rush or it is too late for a bus. In the past month or so, I have taken them more out of convience...Dakar public transport has temporarily defeated me. During the span of the past month of taxi taking, I've had two interesting encounters.

First, early last week, I hit the snooze button one too many times. It has been a re-occuring problem actually...I don't think my body always likes trying to wake up at 5:45 - 6:00 (unless it is from a nap in the afternoon). With that being said, I had an appointment with an American student scheduled at the hospital and needed to get some work done prior to it. To compensate for the hour dealing with public transport, I figured a $3 (a lot for a Peace Corps Volunteer budget) taxi fare and 15 minute ride was what it was going to be.

I walked out of my house groggy and to the main road...flagged down a cab and was on my way. The ride was going smoothly. It wasn't the most structurely sound taxi I'd ever been in, but for here in Dakar, I trusted my life with it and it wasn't bad.

Half-way to the hospital, the driver said he needed to pull over real quickly to fix something. The car seemed to be working fine but because I was the consumer and he was the driver in the situation, I obliged. A couple minutes roll by, and then a couple more, and a couple more until he gets back into the car for good 15 - 20 minutes later. My anger/frustration/emotions don't always show (call it hard to read maybe) but I told him I wasn't paying him full fare. I think he chose to ignore me or pretend to not understand my wolof...not sure.

We pulled into the hospital and down to the Infectious Diseases' Wing and I hand him 1,000 CFA (not full fare). While I have suggested in the past about paying the fair price, I felt that was what I was doing. Unfortunately, my chauffer did not like this. We argued for about 5 minutes, somewhat heated. Can't say it was how I wanted to continue my morning but happens every once in a while. Finally, I just decided to get out of the cab. Wellllllll, not so fast little Justin. The brute strength of my driver's forearms and fist wrapped around my bag strap prevented me from getting out or possibly moving.

I consider myself an expert fighter and champion of mind games but this guy could have kicked my ass thrice (1 + 2 = thrice) times in a span of me blinking my eyes. So being the southern guy I am, I told him to remove his hands from my bag and then pay him the 500 CFA extra that I deducted when he stopped his working taxi for 15 minutes. The problem was that my change was in my pocket but because of the tight cut of my jeans, I had to stand up to get into my pockets....it took me another couple of minutes to explain this and promise him I wouldn't flee.

Finally, while the time was still hovering 8:00 am, I managed to still have my life and another story to tell.

Second, on the contrary to the last taxi story, this is one of a different nature. Because I have been in the mood lately of taking taxis out of convenience, I have not always been rushed when I've been in them.

Because I am currently house-sitting and needed to pick up an outfit from my house for a conference to attend today, I went home after work on Monday to get it. In order to get from my house to where I'm house-sitting, there is no easy way to get there based on public transportation, so I took a cab.

I went to my neighborhood cab stand and jumped into a cab. The driver was super cool and I soon realized as we were going up the incline over the bridge, the cab was struggling and going at a turtles pace. I was in no hurry, the driver was nice, made a joke or too about his sick little cab, and I was content being in that cab.

The trip that should normally take 15 minutes took 45 and honestly it was one of the most relaxing 45 minutes I'd had in awhile. It was close if not better than sitting in a barber's chair getting a hair cut. I'm fairly confident I snoozed off for a second or too. When I made it to my destination I thanked him for such a marvelous ride...it was great.

----------------------------------

Third, I know I said I was only going to mention two but I'm only going to briefly mention this one so when I read this in 35 years I will remember the time I was going downtown during W.A.I.S.T. at 9:30 at night to my hotel from the American Club and the taxi driver dropped me off at a dead end street in the middle of nowhere and said he did not know where the President's House, Place de l'Independance, or the Ponty (most recognized street name in Dakar) was...all of which were around my hotel...thes are places EVERYBODY knows. Despite being physically and mentally exhausted, somewhat furious, and fearing being robbed...I jumped out of the cab as it was still rolling and walked briskly down the street in and out of boutiques and behind trees...while being tall, lanky, and white, I was trying to camouflage myself into the surroundings. In the end, my survival tactics worked, I made it back in one piece. This was one of my weirdest cab experiences....I would have rather been a contestant on Cash Cab though.

--------------------------------

I don't know what any of yall are thinking when you read this or are questioning my safety here, I wouldn't change my time here as a whole at all. Love the excitement...one more year.