Michael: The Taxi Driver

I look at my toes
Peanut like appendages
And know I’m a clown.

Monday, June 1, 2015

Because Volcan is a small town if you stay here any length of time and use taxis as transportation, your bound to begin to recognize some of the drivers and vice versa. We only know one of the drivers’ by name at the moment, but we hope that will change.

Most of these guys go quietly about their business, though we have met a few that are very cordial and talkative, particularly if they speak some English.

But over the weekend we struck yellow taxi gold. We engaged a driver we have used on several recent outings with a peculiarity who wasn’t afraid to show it. A man after my own heart. And what’s even better, is that we were exacerbating his annoyance with us without knowing it. A perfect confluence of quirkiness and miscommunication.

On two previous trips home after we got out of his cab, he would indicate for us to shut the door. No other driver has said anything like that to us. We just figured everyone was expected to shut the door, but that he must have had a bad experience with a tourist that didn’t close the door properly. So after we were admonished the first time, the next time we closed the door with a little more authority.

This weekend on the way home as soon as we entered his cab he talked about the door. Kimme wanted me to ask him how he developed this concern. I was reluctant, but gave it a go. Turns out he wants people to close the door gently. It’s his car and he doesn’t want to hear the door slam all day long. When we exited I closed the door and looked to him to see if I had done so in a way that he appreciated. I was given the thumbs up sign, which I hope means the same here as it does in the states.