Taxi?

I am not used to taking cabs everywhere, and for the most part, I can avoid taxis here. Most of Cairo is attainable through either walking or using the Metro, but about 30 percent of the time, you have to take a cab. No thats not true, you could take a bus if you knew the ropes, but seeing as I am not yet brave enough, or patient enough, for that education, I stick to cabs when I can't walk to the place. I have learned how to hail one-pretty easy considering cabs hail you most of the time. I have learned to speak enough arabic to make it clear that I know what I am doing but keep quiet enough so that he doesn't catch on to the fact that I actually have no idea what I am doing. Most importantly, I have learned how to judge an appropriate rate, and how to exit the vehicle, give my own decided fare, turn, and walk in the opposite direction. Cabs in Cairo don't use the meter, and you certainly never discuss the fare at any point during the trip, unless its a big project like going to the airport. If a driver asks you how much, you don't want that cab. If he shouts "10 pounds", for a 3 pound trip, you definitely don't want that cab. No cab ride is ordinary, you have to stay on your toes, and make sure you are paying attention, cause you never know, for better or for worse, what your ride will be like. Some choice examples.

My friend and I were once taking a cab to Zamalek. On one of the long bridges over the Nile, our driver suddenly stops and swerves to the side of the road. We thought we had gotten a flat tire, when suddenly we start backing up. Our driver seemed incredible worried about something, peering out the windows and checking for something behind us. I look outside my window, waiting to see the inevitable bus that was undoubtedly headed toward us, when a small kitten caught my eye. She was walking timidly across our lane towards the side of the bridge, and right before she went out of sight we saw that she made it to the other side. A bus pulled up next to us, and our driver worriedly confered with the driver of the bus over the status of the kitten. The bus driver, who had a better view, reassured our driver that the kitten was okay. Overcome with relief, our driver smiled and we continued on our way. He was a good man, and needless to say, he got a tip to match his concern for our four legged friends.

Same friend, same destination in Zamalek, different Taxi driver. This one doesn't really know the streets very well in Zamalek, and while he drives confidently, the only thing we are confident about is that he doesn't have a clue where he is. "Is this Blank Street" pause..mutterings that seem to amount to an affirmative. "Really? Because that street sign over there say that its actually not Blank street" no answer. We drive and drive, asking random people for directions, and finally, we get to where we should have been 15 minutes ago, our destination. We exit the car, hand him his fare, and prepare to leave. We hear a "hey!" and keep walking. The basic rule is that no matter how much they yell at you, keep walking until they get out of the car. That means business. So we kept walking until we heard a car door slam. We turn and our taxi driver has suddenly become a 6'3 angry Egyptian man. "You are only paying me 3 and a half pounds for all of that?!?! We went down this street, and that street, and this street, and that street!" we argued with him, its not our fault that you don't know where you are going. But our street arabic was weak at the time, we had only been in egypt for a few weeks, so instead of saying "who the F* do you think you are?" we probably said the equivalent of "why dost thou accuse me of withholding honestly earned income, good sir?" anyways, it was really frustrating. Handicapped by our fledgling Arabic skills and lack of street cred, we paid him off, and were officially scarred from "underpaying" (i.e. paying what an Egyptian would pay) taxi drivers. My favorite part of that whole experience was when I shouted "EXPLOITATION" at him (shockingly a formal arabic word that came in handy) and he yelled back at me.."no, YOU'RE exploitation." does the "I know you are but what am I?" comeback ring a bell to anyone else? Oh 3rd grade, good times.

Finally, another memorable taxi experience was when we took Markell, my oldest sister, to the airport. Found a taxi, agreed on a good price to go to the airport, drop her off, and then take me and Frances back again. During the car ride, the driver kept talking about how we would just drop Markell off without actually entering the airport, avoiding getting a ticket and later paying the entrance/exit fee. I couldn't really tell if it was just a language barrier, but I was like no no, I will pay the fee, lets just get the airport and then we will figure it out. So we get to the airport, and he pulls over before the entrance and is like, okay she gets out now and walks to the airport. "Why don't we just enter and I will pay the fee, you have to understand, I want to make sure she gets into the airport fine" He answers but we can't enter because there are a lot of police. Tersely I ask "And why should the police be a problem?" He answers, "Because my license is expired." Excellent, would have been good to know buddy. Meanwhile, Markell and Frances are awaiting a translation. I translate loudly, in english, using colorful language which is of course universal. We get out of the car, and luckily for everybody, our taxi driver apologizes profusely and doesn't even mention payment, saying that he will wait here for Frances' and my return. We walk with Markell, suit case in tow, through the toll station, through the parking lot, through the throngs of people awaiting arrivals from Mecca, and see her off at the departures gate. It was only like a ten minute walk, and by the time I was back, I had cooled off. We found our taxi, who, like he had said, was waiting for us. He was very thankful that we had come back, which I guess makes sense as we could have gotten a free ride to the airport and found another one back. I was the one beginning to feel sheepish about being angry, so I asked him about his kids that he had mentioned earlier, and we talked about the bad economy and how getting a new license costs money, money which you don't have unless you drive, which technically you cant do unless you...you get the point. I must say it was a new experience when I handed him the agreed upon fare and feeling fully confident that we wouldn't have a disagreement.

In the end, as easy as it is to get frustrated when you are overcharged, they need the money more than we do. As one of my friends put it, these cab drivers aren't saving their pennies to study abroad in America. So while I will never roll over, I always try to remember to not sweat the few extra pounds, knowing that for them it might mean a next meal, or a new license.