Taxi Drivers

by Cindy

You never know what you are going to get with our taxi drivers.  Some speak English, some hardly at all.  Some will “chat you up” others not so much.  Last week I got a really chatty driver that proved most entertaining.  He picked me up from our campus and I asked him to take me to a restaurant so I could join Jeff and my family for dinner.  We chatted about anything and everything!!!  

• He did give me one good piece of information on why it can be hard to get a taxi from our campus. Apparently the campus security guards only let older drivers onto the campus so if a younger taxi driver shows up, they make him wait outside of the campus gates.  Very useful information!
• He showed me pictures of his 13 grandchildren, pointing out one who he thinks is "too white."
• He pulled over onto the side of the highway to share some of his sweets with me.  He keeps them under his driver's seat.  It really was a lovely gesture.

We had a couple of extended conversations which were funny and random:

Taxi Driver (TD): My lady, how old are you?

Me: 39

TD: Three-nine is too much. You look 25, max 32 (In other words, no way that I’m older than 32.)

Me: Nope, I was born in one-nine-seven-two, just like the year when you arrived in the UAE.  He had previously explained to me that he arrived in one-nine-seven-two to drive his taxi.  He had been married right before he moved here.  His wife lasted four days here and she didn’t like it so she moved back to India where she’s been ever since.  That’s not uncommon here at all. He then gave me three guesses to guess his age and I tried 60, 62 and 66.  I think he told me he was 76 but I'm really not sure.

TD: What is your name?

Me; Cynthia

TD: Are you married?

Me: Yes

TD: What is his name?

ME: Jeffrey

TD: What is his mother’s name?

Me: Thinking that’s a weird question - Nancy

TD: What is your mother's name?

Me: Libby

...and that was the end of that, no idea why he wanted to know our mother's names...

TD: How old is your man?

Me: 37

TD: How long have you been married?

Me: 11 years

TD: How many children?

Me: None

TD: 11 years and no children? That is a problem. tsk.tsk.tsk.

Me: We don't want kids.

TD: Completely ignoring my comment. What's wrong?  Do you bleed?  How often do you bleed?  This is a problem.

Me: Surely he's not asking what I think he's asking.  What?

TD: Bleed - you know, does your blood come every month, or is it different?  This is a problem.

Me: I'm healthy.

TD: Oh! Jeffrey.  Please give me Jeffrey's phone number and I will call him.  I have a pill for him.  He takes it once a day, not three times a day.  Take it each morning with food but without milk or tea.  After one hour you can have tea and after two hours you can have milk.  Do you understand?  Fix problem.

Me: Yes, after one hour he can have tea and after two hours he can have milk.  Oh my goodness, I'm really having this conversation.

TD: 11 years, tsk.tsk.tsk.  The pill is only 5 AED ($1.50) so no problem.  After one month, your belly will grow.

He again asked me about my bleeding and we repeated this part of the conversation for the remainder of the drive, he wanted to be sure that I understood what it would take to make my belly grow.

When we arrived at my destination, I gave him a generous tip because he was so entertaining.  He was kind enough to tell me I had paid him too much money and tried to give some back.  I figured the least I could do was pay him for giving me blog material!