Things I Have Learned From Taxi Drivers, Part 1

Part I... because it's going to be a while until I have my paperwork in order to own a car, so I'm assuming there will be a Part II.

"Hey man, where you from?" 

I'm taking around 10 taxis a week at the moment - thank the Inca Gods they're pretty cheap - and the well-intentioned but monotonous conversation runs like in every other country in the world... until the left turn usually around Predictable Question 6:

The Predictable Routine:
1. No, I'm not from... Australia, USA, Canada, Greece... but interesting guess... um fae Scotland.
2. No, not long, arrived January 1st.
3. Great so far, thanks.
4. Yes, cebiche is delicious, and yes I will try pollo con arroz at the first opportunity. Rice with chicken, I can hardly imagine what that could taste like.
5. Yes, at 27 degrees it is quite hot, but I'm surprised you're all complaining about it.
6. Sorry, not quite sure I got all that. Chileans to do what to each other...?

So allow me to start on what I have learnt from Peruvian taxi drivers so far. Other than that every single driver I've had has a son or daughter who is now a doctor, lawyer (sometimes both) or is currently studying at Yale... this is what I've learnt.

They f*cking hate Chileans.

I knew they didn't get on - territory and the bragging rights to pisco - but I had no idea that the feelings ran so deep (amongst taxi drivers, who I believe are an entirely representative poll).

So I now ask this question to everyone, across the demographics (note: I know about 6 people here, family included) and across the demographics, the reply has been akin to that upon asking a kilt-wearing highlander, haggis dripping from his red beard, croft recently ousted in a clearance, having just watched another Calcutta Cup slip from his grasp, what he thinks of the English.

Like that. Except way stronger.

And particularly in a country most unlike Argentina, where people so do not wear their feelings on their sleeve. You'll get no strong opinions on anything, till you hit the Chile button.

Choice lines so far: 

Me: "Why don't you like the Chileans?"
Drives: "Well, we have a long a complicated history. Also, they're a bunch of fuckers."

Me: "Why don't you like the Chileans?"
Drives: "Where are you from?"
Me: "Scotland."
Drives: "Right, Europe. So you understand a little, the tension we have."
Me: "Oh, like Scotland and England."
Drives: "Yeah, but more like between the Germans and the Jews."

That some strong feelings you got there, fella.

La Razon is The Reason?

Maybe it's something to do with tabloids. From the front pages of La Razon - which seems anything but rational or reasonable - you would think that Peru was currently at war. Another day and another treacherous Chilean spy has infiltrated Peru!

Chile spy caught. Ha! No death can be too slow... 

And I would pray that this is photoshopped, but I doesn't seem to be. You could, at a stretch, say that conchuda translates to 'a woman who is a ball breaker'. But in all honesty, it's the C word would be a more accurate equivalent:

Come on, that's no way to speak to a lady.  

I'll let you know if I learn anything news. If I hear something positive about Chileans in a taxi, it'll be all over La Razon, cause I'm turning that guy in as a Chilean spy. They'll need to invent a whole new word to call him...

Marketing Opportuntity, Lima, Peru

No kidding that's wong. 

Gets funnier every time I read it.

Jesus has sent a flood

Ladder now, Arc later. 

Jesus sandals. 

... to mend my wicked ways?

Jesus is actually a Peruvian plumber, and not a Middle Eastern carpenter, as I had been lead to believe. Details merge as I estimate that the Peruvian Jesus was born about 2000 years ago, or certainly has a knowledge of plumbing gathered from Biblical times.

Jesus 'fixed' a problem with the boiler for the kitchen, breaking a pipe as he did so.

Hence, flood.

Just cause he can walk on water...

Microtaxi

Took my first taxi combi in Lima today. We're paying a stack for our 4 daily taxis, so it's time to work out the local transport. 

Little minivans - very mini - of about 10 seats that zip along the roads. One driver, compulsory newspaper on lap to be read at every traffic light (or just in traffic), and one guy hanging out the side of the slide door, whose job seems to be to drag people from the street into the already full combi, remind people at every stop to sube or baja, and open and slam the slide door. The route is fixed-ish, and they'll take you pretty much anywhere for a sole or two $1US = 2.7 soles 

At 5'10''/180cm you stand pretty tall in Peru. Squashed into the combi I reckon I looked like Del Potro folded into one of his own racket bags.

I was intimated towards the seat with my back to the front passenger chair. The roof was so my head was  in my own lap. The guy hanging out the side, when the door was closed, had so little space that either had to put his head out of the window, or bent down in my lap.

He chose the latter. All for one sole.

A middle aged woman sat opposite me, about 30cm away, wearing a low cut top that reflected the age she wished, breasts swinging to the driver's tune.

I hate (paying for) taxis: the Scottish voice in me just does not go silent during a taxi ride. I stare at the meter thinking, the bus is a peso, the bus is a peso the bus is a peso... Taxis had become extortionate in Buenos Aires by the time we left, about 40% more expensive each year.

In Lima they're about half the price, and the system is different: you negotiate the price for the ride before you get in. This is good in that you don't get taken on a grand tour to run up the meter. On the other hand the entire system incentivises the drivers to complete their journey in the fastest possible time. An incentive they seem to respond to with mucho gusto. 

But back to the taxi combis.

Downtown, in Callao. I think.

But we'll see. From this local blogger, here's her Top 5 Hates of Lima's taxi combis.
1. They'll stop anywhere except at a bus stop.
2. That they stop in the middle of the road, diagonally, to pick up passengers.
3. That when you're at a red light, they toot you the second it's turned green.
4. That when you're on the combi, all the windows remain closed and no one has the right to open them, except when you get on.
5. That the seats are smaller every time, like everyone is 150cm.

We'll see. Here's my thinking:
Taxi from work to home: $7
Combi from work to home: $1.

I'm for the combi.

Casa Melgarejo

Our Peruvian pad in La Molina.  

Parque del Amor

Couple of shots from along the coast, in Miraflores, from last week, in the Parque del Amor.   

Leah y La Camara

Maia y La Comida

Nuns. Not on the run. 

Second Home, Lima

Well earned rest after what has felt like a month or two of tramites, admin, packing, tramites, chicken pox, and logistics. Still jet lagged/knackered, but what a lovely place to be either/both.  Here's our hotel till Friday...

Our balcony

Pool, facing Delfin's workshop

Leah, watching: mummy swimming

That's our room, balcony and all...