I rarely use taxis when I travel abroad.
I prefer public transport especially in places that it functions.
Places with an organized bus transport system or rail network.
I am more comfortable traveling with other passengers as most times I travel solo.
BTW, come to think of it.
I hail a total stranger from an android app. The app shares with them my full names, phone number, my exact location, and where I’m headed.
And then I get into their car.
I don’t know them.
They don’t know me.
In other words, I surrender myself to someone I met, what, like 2 seconds ago?
Weird thoughts starts racing in my mind.
What if s(he) strangles me?
What if (s)he diverts the car to a different route?
What if…
Furthermore, don’t you always wonder the thoughts and ‘judgments’ that go on in the taxi driver’s head.
All the questions they’re asking themselves once you’re all settled in?
Why is she alone?
Where is she from?
Is she taken?
Is she single?
Does she have kids?
Is she traveling on business? May be for fun?
And all sorts of such questions.
But I digress.
This past week on a visit to Cape Town, circumstances kinda put me on the spot and I ended up mostly using Ubers.
Most of these rides were in the company of a companion I was attending a number of meetings with.
On one of the evenings, we wanted a quick bite after an intense day of back to back meetings but didn’t feel like walking 1.5 kilometers to the Indian restaurant.
So we e-hailed an Uber.
The ride was short and sweet.
The driver was pleasantly civil, and his five-seat aluminium VW ticked all the boxes you’d expect of an Uber-worthy car.
It was clean, smelled good, and appeared rather new.
My companion chose to ride shotgun.
I picked the back left seat.
Because I’m the boss.
Soon after, the Q & A session begins.
Hey! how are you!
Good thanks!
You?
Couldn’t be better… So where’re you from?
Burundi.
Wow! Burundi. Never been, but I’ve always wanted to.
And yourself? Where you from?
Jamaica! My partner responds.
Like Jamaica, Jamaica, that country far away?
Yeah man!
Wow! Reggae man!
And you my sister, where you from?
Make a guess, I respond.
Botswana? No
Zimbabwe? No
Tanzania? No
Malawi? No
NAAAAAAA! You tell me.
“I’m from Kenya”
No way! Jamaica… Kenya… How?
What dýou mean?
How did you guys ever meet? Those countries are so far apart!
Well, why don’t you take a guess…
In hindsight, my partner and I should have just told him how we met.
It turns out that the moment we gave our driver the option to make a guess, we simultaneously also signed up for the risk of him making the most ridiculous guess!
Simply responding to his question was a choice at our disposal.
But we chose to let it pass.
And just like in all life situations, whatever we do (as well as don’t do), when we have the option of doing it (or not), remains our personal responsibility.
“Hmmm… let me see… were you her pastor, perhaps?”
Seriously, Mr Uber driver!!!!!
Who woulda thought?
Alas, but don’t we make the same judgments of others? And even sometimes end up treating them based on our misinformed judgments of them?
Lesson learned!
Photo by Thought Catalog on Unsplash
