Taxiiiiiiiii

*Sigh* I was so glad to be back in Jordan after all the adventures with un-metered taxis in Egypt. No sooner do I arrive, however, than all taxis and buses seem to have gone on vendetta against my happy excitement to see them!


Yesterday, I left class to take a bus to 7th Circle, right beside the malls so I could buy some very much needed items. I knew which bus I needed: number 53. This was not a problem, as there were 3 number 53 buses lined up outside - normally, there's only one. The first one had open doors, but no one - not even a bus driver - inside. The second one had just disgorged its passengers, but it at least had a bus driver present. The third one had a bus driver, but no one else, and its doors were closed.

So, I did what any good, confused American would do: I wavered. Now, bear in mind, it was freezing cold out. It may seem that April should be perfect in the ME, but it has been rainy and cold and miserable for the last three days. So I stood outside, shivering, as I wandered from bus to bus, looking for hopeful signs such as bus drivers and passengers.

Finally, I caught the attention of the bus driver from the second bus, just as he was stepping out.

"Good evening," he said. (It was only 3 in the afternoon, but I'll take it.)

"7th Circle?" I tried in Arabic.

"Yes."

"Good. 65 or 60 piasters?"

"65." He then walked off the bus, leaving me holding my money.

Another official bus person poked his head around as he got off - "Where?"

"7th Circle. This bus goes to 7th Circle, right? But what about the other buses - which one goes first?" I tried my Arabic.

"Do you speak English?" he asked.

"Yes," I was a little disappointed. I just made it through Egypt where most people didn't speak English or Amiyya; one would think I could handle a little matter of which bus to get on.

"This bus." He said. "Sit down."

He really didn't need to bust out his English for that, I thought, as I sat down, still clutching my 65 piasters.

I waited; the first bus remained in its position, but the third #53 bus started moving. This, I decided, was patently unfair.

Apparently, the bus drivers thought so, too. They started yelling and gesticulating, persuading the other bus to maneuver into position in front of them. We then finally took off.

Quite some distance into the ride, the bus driver looked back at me. "Have you paid?"

"Nope," I said as I walked forward. I had been planning on doing that when I got off.

"Here," he took my money. "Let me tell you about the times."

"The times?"

"Of the bus."

"The bus times?"

"Yes."

I pondered for a second. What did he mean? His English was  a bit broken and accented (better than my Arabic, of course!), which is what I'll contribute my confusion.

"The times.....of the bus." I confirmed.


"Yes. You know when to take bus?"


"Yes." Now, I realize that between my searching for which bus to take and the whole not paying thing, it seemed that I might not know how to ride a bus. This is not true. It was very kind of him, but by now, my pride was involved. "Oh, I take the bus every day."

"You do?"

"Yes. Bus 53 or 52."

"What time?"

"Oh, around 5."

"Really/"

"Yes."

Finally, I went back to sit down and wait for the ride to end.


I got off at the mall, and quite successfully found what I wanted. Coming out of the mall, I was presented with a long line of taxis waiting. Normally, one merely goes to the first taxi in the row, gets in, and away you go. This time, however, a man stood outside waiting.

"Taxi? Taxi? You want a taxi?" He flicked his cigarrette in my direction.

I motioned to the taxis before me. "Well, yes."

He started walking me towards a car. "Traffic very bad today. For you, four JD."

I stopped, gave him my best gimlet eye and loudest American voice I could. "HA!" I walked off. I could hear him calling after me, "Look! Here! Here's a taxi with a meter!"

I then spent the next 20 minutes of my walk practicing my Arabic words - such as liar and cheat - and can now say quite confidently that I know how to properly tell off someone just trying to take advantage of naive Westerners. I'm only disappointed I didn't get to impress him with my abilities.

I finally found a taxi, relieved to be in the safe and non-confusing metered confines of a professional cab. We got to my destination without incident. I looked at the meter: 0.85JD. My 2JD were ready (with traffic, it can fall between 0.60 and 1.80, so I wanted to be ready or the meter would keep going as I fumbled with my change). Glad that I was all ready, I handed the driver the bills and waited a second for my change. He handed me a piece and I got out. As I walked home, I realized that the piece he had handed me was too large - 0.25JD instead of 0.10JD. What a nice taxi driver, I thought. I went to put it away - and realized that I had just given him an extra dinar. Well, I guess he can afford to be nice, with my dinar tip. I will, however, just assume that his taking it was as honest a mistake as my giving it. Riiiiiiight.

Then, today, I had more bus/taxi adventures. I got on the bus just in time and found a seat. However, shabayn in front of me decided that it was their bounden duty to serenade the entire bus with their loud Arabic love music selection. Seriously. They were acting as the unofficial stereo system of the bus. And no on batted an eyelash. Except me, of course. It wasn't too bad, though; it only reminded me of the 7 hour bus rides in Egypt in which they played Quranic chanting nonstop. For 7 hours. Straight. Quranic chanting. Loudly. Yes.

I get off at my stop and get a taxi for the ride home. Normally, this ride costs 0.80 JD at most. Somehow, his meter was going what seemed to be really fast. (They can adjust how fast the meters run to an extent.) I didn't want to call him on it, in case it was just my imagination, but we definitely reached 0.60 a bit before we should. So, I got out and walked.


Not the most frustrating things in the world - and I am truly glad to be back in Jordan - but still, it just goes to show you that human nature is the same every where in the world. It also goes to show you how eagerly I'm going to jump behind the wheel of the car when I get back. Although, I don't know - it has been really nice to be chauffeured everywhere. I could get accustomed to it - if I had a private limousine and the chauffeur had a uniform. And there was a strict no smoking and no Quranic chanting policy enforced. Then, I could definitely get used to it.