A Tale of Three Taxistas

I think we tend to think of countries beyond the US as being full of one type of person.  Or two types if we decide to consider males and females as different types.  This simplification can lead to quite a lot of problems.  Don’t worry though, I’m here to help.  I’d like to talk about three noteworthy “taxistas” to illustrate differences across one city, one neighborhood, and one job.

Eric: Eric is a young guy and works for a taxi company called All Days.  All Days is also the name of a popular bar here in San Pedro Sula; apparently the owner of the bar figured he had himself a captive audience and vertically integrated.  Interesting, but I digress.  The one time I rode with Eric, he showed up ten minutes late while I waited on the side of the road.  “Lots of traffic” he said as he swung the door open for me.  I hopped in and we were off for home.  He asked me where I was from, somehow knowing that I wasn’t Honduran, and I told him, “Seattle”.  “Oh, I know Seattle, beautiful”.  What?  Apparently driving taxi is only Eric’s October-November job.  Generally he works on cruise ships, hopping around the Caribbean and both coasts of the US.  He likes that it is work and that it allows him to travel but says it is hard.  It has taken him all over and has given him so really profound thoughts on the cities he’s seen: Alaska (yeah, who cares about Anchorage)? Cold. Seattle? Space Needle thing. Miami? Lots of discos.  That’s when we darted out of a long line of traffic to try to cut in ahead in front of other cars.

José: I’ve mentioned José before, or as my colleague Rynaldo calls him, el viejito.  He hangs out on the street corner by my apartment with another taxista, Carlos, and is usually there in the morning.  He starts work each day at 6 am with a steady client (a doctor) that he takes to a hospital in the southern part of town and then camps out on my street corner to find more business.  José has a heavy accent so it can be difficult to converse but I’m acostumbrandome (getting accustomed to it).  He has a wife, – she’s 60, he’s 63, cradle-robber – children, and grandchildren and seems pretty content with life.  I don’t know how long he’s been driving cab but, to judge by the state of his car, it’s been forever.  This thing is easily the oldest cab I’ve ridden in.  He has to open the door for me from the inside, both getting in and out.  There’s a trick to getting it to work that I haven’t yet mastered.  Fortunately I ride in the front with him so it’s no problem.  With all of the rattling and shaking it is a wonder we get to the office in the morning.

Javier: Javier is the taxista the office would like me to ride with all of the time.  He has a slick little import car from the mid-90’s that he keeps in tip top condition.  On the hood of his car he has painted a large star of David, which is interesting as he’s Christian, not Jewish.  He also attends Mi Shalom church, which is also Christian.  As a fake Jew, I wonder what his thoughts are on Resolution 242 and the current “peace” talks.  I'll have to ask.  He is young, probably late twenties or early thirties and has a wife and a brand new baby, Ananias.  He’s very trusty and always shows up on time or early.  He’s the friendly face that greets me when I come back to San Pedro after travels.  

I like seeing these different facets of the people in country.  It helps me to keep in mind that the groups I am working with also exhibit those same differences.  If they were all the same, it would be easier.  Probably a lot more boring though.