The taxi man.

I know I just posted earlier today, but I had to put up this hilarious event.

I take taxis to and from town, it is a necessary exercise which I never look forward to. You will understand why shortly.

Coming home from town today I went to the normal spot to get a taxi. Of course, half the men on the street come up to me and ask me where I am going, all wanting me in their taxis or to help me get one. Today the first man who came up wanted me in his big taxi, it was going to my destination, but I firmly refuse to go in large taxis because they take over an hour to fill. I get really stubborn.

Then the taxi man came. He is a tall man, about 6 feet. He is thin with broad shoulders and gangly arms. His face is long with a well defined jaw line, on which grows some poorly maintained stubble. He is not ugly, and not incredibly hansom.
He has a big mouth to match the length of his face and eyes which generally look a bit sad or slightly desirous.

I met this man the first time I needed a taxi. I think in my mind we got off to a bad start. He likes muzungus, very obviously. I don’t do well with pushy men, as a rule, and all the men around the taxis are pushy. I think I probably got in his face at some point. But over the last few weeks our “relationship” has improved. The man is good at getting taxis for me, and I try to be polite when I can be.

So today, I stood there waiting for my small taxi for 2000 to munana, as usual. The men flocked around wanting the attention of the white woman. And in came the taxi man. His job is to work that area, which is actually nice because I know he doesn’t have an agenda in terms of getting me in his taxi.

I also know that he DOES in fact have an agenda. And that was made very evident today. I was at the stand for about 5 minutes when the taxi man came walking up. He said “Ah! My friend, you want a small taxi to munana, yes?” I said yes I did and I’d be grateful for his help because the other man wanted me in his matatu, not an option.

He said “Ok I will help you, but you come over here I want to chat for a moment away from this man.” I said No I didn’t want to go chat chat with him, but he said “we just go right here” (about 3 feet away). So I let him tug me over to the car 3 feet from the other man.

And he began. “You see, I use to have a muzungu and then she went back to her place.” He looked at me with sad, pathetic eyes. I burst out laughing. I said out right “No, I won’t be your muzungu” and walked back to the other men.. he was disappointed, I turned and said I’m not available.” (Note: The first guy I wander Mbarara with is going to have to become my boy friend for a few hours to get the men away!)

The taxi man found me a taxi, as usual, (that is really the problem… the man is incredibly useful! Hence I cannot totally ignore him) after talking to me for a while and trying to discover my name. He like the current president. Strike one million.

So finally I got in a small taxi, it didn’t take too long to find 6 other passengers. That is right… there are usually 5 people JAMMED into the back seat of a small car. This time it was me and 4 men. When I got out of the car I felt like my spin was in a knot, the long walk up the road to the community is helpful for spinal readjustment!

I sat and read Dante.

ah, the adventure.

(Note: The other day I was in a taxi that put 17 people into a small van! There are two seats in the back… on which they jammed, like contortionists, 6 people, then the middle 3 seats, where they wedged 6 of us, and then 5, including the driver and kid, in the front 2 seats! I generally take the time in the taxis to pray that I get my own transportation someday!)