Terrifying Taxis

I originally wrote this on August 28, but forgot to post it.

I’ve mentioned taxis a few times. It’s time for a post about them.

Traffic in Cairo is unique. I’ve heard stories about India, I’ve been to Mexico, and I suspect each city has its quirks.

In general, Cairo is overcrowded and there are way too many cars for the streets. Drivers make turns across traffic, have custom horns (e.g., linking the wiper wand to their horn for easier access), and make very tight turns and passes. Additionally, there always seems to be a car stopped on the side of the street, backing up traffic. I counted around 4 of them on my way from the airport. Sometimes it’s a taxi, with the passengers standing on the sidewalk, sometimes it’s some guy driving a truck, and other times it’s just regular cars. One interesting sight was a Suzuki truck (the kind with the flat front) pushing a little blue hatchback. I couldn’t tell if the driver was being helpful or mean. The horns also have meaning. One honk means “I’m here, don’t run into me” or if at a pedestrian, “I’m here, get out of the street”. Two honks means “Get out of my way”, and three means, “Really, you had better get out of my way.” I think the single, long honk has a universal meaning, “I’m not stopping, so move or I’ll hit you.”

This afternoon I took a taxi ride from Zamalek to Maadi, which my host mom said should be about LE20.

After having the hotel guy help me out the door with my luggage, he went down the street to find me a taxi. I told the guy I would pay LE20-25. He comes back with a driver who said he will do it for LE30 and knows the area of Maadi where I am going. I agreed (I wasn’t about to argue over $.88). So they throw my suitcases on the luggage rack on top of the car. I asked if they were okay, and I got an “of course!” I got in the car and began my adventure.

First off, the driver kept saying “Mary” instead of “Maadi”. I kept correcting him, but it didn’t seem to work. He had no idea where he was taking me. After explaining which Metro stop I take, he seemed to have a general idea of where to go. After fighting traffic on the road that borders the Nile (Corniche il Nil), we got on the road to Maadi. The first part of the drive I was following along on my map, confirming with the driver where we were. He kept complimenting me and saying things in Arabic that I didn’t understand. The Corniche seems to be a popular place for young couples. I saw a lot of holding hands and talking along the walkway. It is quite pleasant with trees and the cool breeze off the river. Of course, there was the usual melee of bicycles, pedestrians, and large trucks hauling tires going way too fast.

Once we were past the main downtown traffic, we picked up speed. The driver lit up, which I hate. It is sad when I actually try to catch the traffic fumes rather than role up the window. The driver pulled over after finishing his cigarette. I was somewhat concerned, as we were not near any particular building. He wanted a drink of water. (He can smoke, honk, and talk to me while driving but can’t drink?). We went on a little ways.

Soon he stopped on the side of the road where people were waiting (Waiting for what? you might ask. Who knows; maybe for a bus, a mini bus, or just to cross the street). They didn’t know where Hotel Mary is. (My landmark, of course, is Hotel Maadi). We continued on.

Then the driver rolled down his window and shouted out to the taxi passing us on the left. The other taxi slowed down and they shouted to each other (with traffic whizzing by). He told us to take the next left. He pulled ahead, and as he came to the street, gestured with his hand where we should turn. That was kind of him.

Going down the street, the driver again asked people standing on the side of the road where Hotel Mary is. No one knew. He rolled ahead and shouted to some guy sitting on the side of a building. They guy came over, and I again said, “Fondo Maadi” (Hotel Maadi). As soon as I said “Maadi”, the guy knew exactly where to direct us, which was about 100 meters ahead. Once there, I was easily able to provide directions to drive to my host family’s home.

He stopped, and boys rushed up to help me with my luggage. I paid the driver (I gave him a few extra pounds; it was worth it!) and let the boys take my luggage to the elevator. I didn’t want them coming up with me, but they were insistent so doorman had to tell them “no”. I heard one boy protest to the doorman, “Baksheesh!” I was ready and gave the boy a tip before the doors closed.

Jeff calls the straps inside the car doors “Oh no” straps. I don’t consider myself a crazy driver. The main road we took is fairly straight, but I had to hang on the entire time.

My luggage made it safely, as did I.