Tales of the Taxi Cabs

The term "safety" is a funny thing. Mostly because it's so relative.

The variety of taxi drivers we meet here in Sanaa is as diverse as the cars they drive - or, more specifically, the cars you hope will make it long enough to get you to your destination. Some of the more amusing taxi rides I've experienced are as follows:

Driver number one: Doesn't talk much, but after about five minutes in the cab pulls out the cassette tape (everyone here only uses old school cassette tapes) and pops it in. Next thing you know, who else but Marshall Mathers is rockin' a little "Slim Shady." The cab driver glances back in his mirror at his two western passengers, nods a little and says, "Tamaam?" (Ok?) We both laugh and nod. Then he cranks the music up so ridiculously loud that we drew far more stares from the cars crowded next to us than normal. But what can you do.

Driver number two: Four of us pile in a cab, only to look up to see a perfect bullet hole in the front windshield, and from the hole the glass splinters in every possible direction. (Cracked windshields are the name of the game around here. Most are cracked. It was just the cause of the cracks that was noticeably different this time.) One of the guys in our entourage pointed to the hole and asked the obvious question. The driver nodded but then proudly announced that he himself had not been hit! We looked around the back for evidence of a backseat passenger casualty but fortunately it was dark enough that we couldn't see anything.

Driver number three: Wasn't actually a taxi. Probably not the smartest thing ever but this guy who was just idling by the side of the road offered to give us a ride to where we needed to go. Once we got in the cab, he confirmed what we sort of suspected - he wasn't actually a taxi driver. But he had kicked out his friend who was sitting in car chewing gat with him, so for some strange reason we felt compelled to agree to the ride. Along the way he gave us gat, bought us flowers, and then refused to let us pay him when we arrived at our destination. I'm torn between wondering how sketchy that is and being thankful for a free ride.

Which leads me to my musing about this idea of "security" or "safety" that we all throw flippantly around. Clearly the fact that I travel to certain places in the world showcases the obvious reality that I'm probably not as concerned about "safety" as some people might be. But more pointedly, I think that safety comes in very different forms. In big cities in the U.S., like a New York or Boston or Detroit, there are plenty of safety concerns. Pickpockets, someone breaking into your car and stealing it, someone grabbing a bag of purchased goods or your purse when you sit down, needing to always keep a close eye on your kids to make sure nothing happens to them, etc. You certainly wouldn't ever catch a ride from an unmarked "taxi" in these cities. And sure there are safety concerns here in Sanaa. They're simply of a different nature. But you can let your kids play on the streets because everyone looks out for the kids, and you can strike up random conversations with strangers and even when it seems like it should be shady by American standards, it seems to turn out okay. That's not to say you shouldn't always be careful and avoid being stupid (that goes without saying), but keep these cultural differences in mind the next time you see a State Dept travel warning. They're not all they're cracked up to be.