Among the few useful things that we were told in college it was something like this: “If you want to see the people in Bucharest think about something, take the taxi sometimes and open the topic”. And the professor was right. No matter where you are in the world, cab drivers are like an underpaid psychologist. Everybody is talking to them. That makes the taxi drivers an unwillingly “barometer” of the city in which we live. With all the good parts and the bad ones. And sometimes, as it happened to me – hilarious.
My story happened a year ago. As I have a problem waking up early in the morning and I was, therefor late, I called a taxi. I get in the car and suddenly felt like…kitsch place of worship. The car had all the protective equipment as possible. Divine Protection, that is. From the right mirror until somewhere below the windscreen came down a long line of crosses, attached on the windscreen. Yellow, green, embroided, glittery, plastic or glass and some more – God help us – (so to speak) made in wood. Nearby, on the car ceiling, a dozen of religious items. Can anyone enlighten me what is the phase with so many crosses? No, really? When and where do we draw a line?
After sayind the address, I asked the taxi driver if he can exchange 50 lei. Once the man looked above the windscreen mirror, I caught a glimpse of known figures: Nicolae Grigorescu, George Enescu and the, oh yes, the Virgin Mary. Another icon was placed on the board, under the freshener. Then someone crossed in a hurry in front of us. A long calling for God, saints, wafer, stole, font, holy water and swearing begun… So, the language matched the interior J !
While I counted the objects of worship just for fun, a voice is heard from the taxi station:
– Say, can anybody tell me were the Romanian Embassy is?
It is just like that moment when you go: no way! Really? Maybe I heard it wrong. So instinctively I look to my left, at the driver who had raised the eyebrows, a sign that he also felt something fishy. After a while, the voice repeated …
– Come on guys, where is the Romanian Embassy ?
By now we both start laughing. The response from the dispatch was quick and benevolent:
– Well, mate… there are more than one. It depends where you are.
– On Metalurgiei street, mate.
– That’s perfect! Go straight to Giurgiu city, cross over that big bridge to Bulgaria and after that you ask for more direction…
– Can anyone help me? I see some of you feel like making jokes on my account…
Unfortunately, I arrived at my destination. If it was not so late, I would have asked the taxi driver to give me one more ride, only to hear the end of that discussion. It was the first and perhaps the last time I went to a clinic to give blood smiling.
I do not intend to bring any judgments upon the taxi drivers. They are no more crazy than the rest of us. And in general they practice this job from necessity. If you chat with them, you’ll see that most are former “something” but were fired from their job. Some are just taxi drivers until they ” get back on their feet”. I met people who were once engineers, cooks, shoemakers and a even a translator, a football coach and a former sound engineer. About their stories and more detail, next time.
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