Three Taxi Drivers
Taxi drivers have something of a bad reputation here. Some of them are downright grumpy, pushy, demanding, and will even jump out of their cabs and follow you if you don’t give them as much money as they want. Their tendency to do this, however, is partially dependent on how you carry yourself. The more you know about what you’re doing, the less likely you are to have any trouble. (But then again, Faith and I have had very little trouble with drivers, despite the fact we rarely know what we’re doing! So go figure!)
Having said this, many cab drivers are wonderful people. One driver I had—who took me all the way from Maadi (far southern Cairo) to Heliopolis (far northern Cairo) for 25 L.E. (a little over $4)—talked with me the whole way about politics (“why do they kill the children?”), about family (he has two wives and eight children), and about economics (he teaches during the day and drives a cab at night to support his family). He also told me about his rather less-inspiring divide-and-conquer strategy of dealing with his wives. “If one wife causes too much trouble,” he says, “I send her home to her family. That way, she learns her lesson while I still have the other wife to take care of things at home.” I agreed that this was clever....
Another taxi driver I met told me about his life: how he had worked a long time in England for an export company then retired to Egypt. He claimed he did not need the money from his driving—that he did it just to keep himself occupied. We had a very nice conversation, and his claim appeared confirmed when, after pulling to a stop before our apartment building, he smiled and said, “we are friends: you do not need to pay your friends.” I , however, insisted, and paid him nonetheless. An extremely kind man. (And, by the way, I also expect this to be the last time a taxi driver actually ASKS me NOT to pay him!)
The last taxi driver I’ll mention was another absolutely delightful person. It was about dusk when he picked us up and the call to prayer was echoing through the streets of Al-Korba (a neighborhood not far from where we live). As he was driving us through the streets and intersections, I noticed that he had a bag between his legs filled with slips of paper which he kept pulling out, looking at, mumbling over, then replacing. I did not look too closely, thinking maybe he was memorizing Quranic verses. I was, however, a little concerned. Because he was doing all this while driving, he kept having to adjust the wheel with his elbows or just one distracted hand and several times I was tempted to reach out and help steady the car as we maneuvered through a couple busy intersections. Finally, as we neared our home, he smiled at me and handed me one of the slips of paper: on one side were words written in English, on the other words written in Arabic. We both laughed: he was literally studying English while driving a taxi! I helped him with the pronunciations of several words, and he told me that now, if his teacher says he is pronouncing a word wrong, he can say, “no! YOU are wrong!” We had a good laugh at this, and by the time he dropped us off I was almost wishing I had offered to keep helping him out. He was such a delightful person, and I was deeply moved by his eagerness to learn and improve his situation. He’s the sort of person Egypt needs to change for. People like him—kind, energetic, willing to learn—deserve more opportunities, not less. I dearly hope that he and Egypt can succeed.
Having said this, many cab drivers are wonderful people. One driver I had—who took me all the way from Maadi (far southern Cairo) to Heliopolis (far northern Cairo) for 25 L.E. (a little over $4)—talked with me the whole way about politics (“why do they kill the children?”), about family (he has two wives and eight children), and about economics (he teaches during the day and drives a cab at night to support his family). He also told me about his rather less-inspiring divide-and-conquer strategy of dealing with his wives. “If one wife causes too much trouble,” he says, “I send her home to her family. That way, she learns her lesson while I still have the other wife to take care of things at home.” I agreed that this was clever....
Another taxi driver I met told me about his life: how he had worked a long time in England for an export company then retired to Egypt. He claimed he did not need the money from his driving—that he did it just to keep himself occupied. We had a very nice conversation, and his claim appeared confirmed when, after pulling to a stop before our apartment building, he smiled and said, “we are friends: you do not need to pay your friends.” I , however, insisted, and paid him nonetheless. An extremely kind man. (And, by the way, I also expect this to be the last time a taxi driver actually ASKS me NOT to pay him!)
The last taxi driver I’ll mention was another absolutely delightful person. It was about dusk when he picked us up and the call to prayer was echoing through the streets of Al-Korba (a neighborhood not far from where we live). As he was driving us through the streets and intersections, I noticed that he had a bag between his legs filled with slips of paper which he kept pulling out, looking at, mumbling over, then replacing. I did not look too closely, thinking maybe he was memorizing Quranic verses. I was, however, a little concerned. Because he was doing all this while driving, he kept having to adjust the wheel with his elbows or just one distracted hand and several times I was tempted to reach out and help steady the car as we maneuvered through a couple busy intersections. Finally, as we neared our home, he smiled at me and handed me one of the slips of paper: on one side were words written in English, on the other words written in Arabic. We both laughed: he was literally studying English while driving a taxi! I helped him with the pronunciations of several words, and he told me that now, if his teacher says he is pronouncing a word wrong, he can say, “no! YOU are wrong!” We had a good laugh at this, and by the time he dropped us off I was almost wishing I had offered to keep helping him out. He was such a delightful person, and I was deeply moved by his eagerness to learn and improve his situation. He’s the sort of person Egypt needs to change for. People like him—kind, energetic, willing to learn—deserve more opportunities, not less. I dearly hope that he and Egypt can succeed.
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