Let's Talk Thai Taxis.

(post from October 24) --

As you grow up and gain independence, you sometimes make life decisions whence you might hear your parents, in your head, scolding you for putting yourself in such compromising and often plainly stupid situations. But you do it anyway. With a twinge of remorse.

This is how I feel every time I get in a taxi here in Thailand.

Taxis are notorious in Bangkok because they often try to rip foreigners “farangs” off; plus, the traffic in Bangkok is so painfully congested and road rules are flagrantly nonexistent. It's quite astonishing how dangerous these roads are, honestly. One might see, for example, Thai children of all ages on motorcycles, squished in between the father and the mother, the latter of whom is riding side-saddle on the back in like, a nice dress and sequined flats or something, the whole family sans helmet, on the highway – not around the neighborhood block, but the highway. I saw this scene with my own two eyes a few hours ago. And no one looks twice, other than my fellow teachers and maternalistic me, who normally stares with wide eyes and a hand over my gaping mouth as I shake my head at these traveling-families-on-motorcycles as I terror-grip onto my seat in the front of the taxi, where I normally sit when my friends and I go out.

But this post isn't about motorcycles in Thailand. No. It's about something that feels arguably more dangerous. You see, normally I like sitting shotgun when my friends drive somewhere. But in a Thai taxi, where I frequently feel like I am on the brink of losing my life, the seemingly fortunate and spacious position in the front of the vehicle offers me a full panoramic view of exactly how 'The End' could play out for me. This just doesn't bode well with my psyche. Sure, I trust that these drivers know what they're doing and can navigate well in Thai traffic, but it's truly very scary when you're in a little baby Toyota Corolla that's battling against huge trucks and weaving through weaselly little Tuk Tuks. What makes matters worse is that these taxis are colored neon orange, pink, and green – HOW NON-MENACING IS THAT?!

To top if off, let me give you some more recent examples of why Thai taxis are crazy:

1. Our taxi drivers both yesterday and today picked us up on empty tanks. The gas lights were definitely on. Our first drive out lasted like 40 minutes; today it lasted like 20 minutes. Pardon me, but my idea of a “night out on the town” does not include pushing any jelly-bean colored taxis anywhere, thanks very much.

Note: I couldn't decide which of the following situations was more disheartening, so you can choose.

2. Thais traditionally “wai” to each other as a sign of respect. Rather than shaking hands with one another, they put their hands together in a praying-like gesture and bow their heads to each other while muttering a greeting. Normally you'll see Thais “wai-ing” to figures of the King, to Buddha, and to other figures of superiority.

WELL. During my first ride in a Thai taxi the other night, when I was almost hyperventilating in the perilous rush hour, I turn to the driver while we're in a busy round about – the center of which was a figure of the King – and I see my driver (read this carefully) take his handS off the wheel, turn to his right window, and wai to the statue of the King. That's right, my taxi driver took his hands off the wheel to bow/pray/greet the King. In rush hour. In one of the busiest parts of Bangkok. It was only like, a one-second wai, but shiz could have hit the fan in that one second. I don't think my eyes have ever gotten that wide with terror in my whole life.

3. The taxi ride today to the mall proved interesting, for the man who was driving the car did not at ALL match the picture of the man on the displayed license. No, no. The man driving was definitely 20 years older and uglier. So I turned to the back and explained my concern, with a bit of shaky humor, to the girls in the back. But what could we do other than say “mai pen rai” (“whatever!” ???) and proceed to discuss the movie, “Taken”, which is about American girls who are sold into sex trafficking after accepting a taxi ride with a stranger in Paris. That conversation really quelled my fears of this mysterious taxi man – hah, hah? (Note to all women: if you're ever sold into trafficking and are given an opportunity to call your parents to “tell them you're alright”, use the code phrase, “I'm eating a steak dinner” to let your parents know that no, your vacay is NOT all happy and dandy, and in fact, you're being sold into slavery – yeah, “bon voyage” my arse. The girls and I decided this after one of the girls in the cab, Ali, made this agreement with her mom.)

Those are all the stories I have for now. But hey, I'm alive. I went to the Central Mall today in BKK with a bunch of the girls and truly had an Amerrrican night in this mall, which is the biggest in Asia, btw. Who knows how many stories it is, but it's a great, great place. And so random! You can buy all types of shoes and clothes, get your eyebrows shaped, face threaded (what a painful concept), eyelashes extended, legs waxed, and play arcade games and eat ice cream to celebrate a successful day – all in this one mall!

We had KFC (yum, so much better here), then shopped, bought things at prices that equate to thievery, then had ice cream. Oh, how we miss America. But man, Thailand rocks. Other than the effing crazy taxis.