Taxi Cab Thrill Rides
Trip Start
Dec 2007
1
8
41
Trip End
Aug 2008
Beijing, China
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
So armed only with a very poor, multiple generation blurry map of my office, I hit the taxi stand in front of my complex. I opened the door, greeted the driver and pointed at the map. He nodded and screamed at me for a solid 5 minutes, nodding and savagely pointing furiously at the map. I knew it was relatively easy, since I had been there once before, but all I do was also point at the map and to mime the numbers "4,2" as that was the exit off of the highway. The driver threw the map back and me and off we went. I won't go out on a limb here, but I have seen people strung out on a two day cocaine binge. In comparison, those friends were comatose compared to my driving friend. He stayed in a single lane no longer than 2 seconds, and often he created his own. A four foot gap between two cars, was a new lane in traffic, and when that didn't work it was the shoulder, the median and his favorite, on and off exit ramps and secondary roads. All the while, the radio played this strange combination of a Jerry Lewis "Lady!" rant and a Garrison Keillor Lake Woebegon spoken word performance. I since have asked, and apparently there is a taxi cab driver radio station, and this ranting is designed exclusively for the millions of taxis that circle Beijing all day and night. I asked one of my Chinese speaking friends to translate, and all she could say was, "It is supposed to be funny."
45 minutes and at least 30 major traffic violations, I was standing at the door of the office. I made it my office and took my seat at my desk. There were a couple post-it notes on my computer, one had my email address, and the other my phone number...nothing else. No log on instructions, no password to get into the system, as people trickled in and on their spots within the cubicle landscape. Soon my new boss, a very tall, very intense and incredibly great guy came by to say hello. As is the case with most everyone in the office, he has a long history with the Olympics and has not been back to his home country for more than a couple months since he began chasing different Olympic locations in Sydney. As a matter of fact, after his departure from his eastern European home, his tiny nation has changed its name as well as its politics a number of times. It is hard to describe his nationality...Yugoslav, Slav, Serbian...I prefer to say a citizen of the world. He decides a brief introduction of my duties might in order, and he hands me off to a British subject who goes on to describe what our unit will be doing...and none of it pertains to me. Then our lovely Chinese PA takes me around to introduce me around. I felt very much a politician smiling and shaking heads, trying to use any techniques I can to place a name to these faces, and remember them... I do my best to make small talk and say something mildly amusing, all the while, trying to stay within a uncharted boundary of what is acceptable speech for all nations. With my head spinning...I thought I should check in with HR to sign any papers I might need to take care of, to get any instructions on company policy, meet important people...you know the drill. So I head down two flights of stairs, into HR, where I meet my contact...and then nothing. I'm all set she says, and I'm back to my cubicle. 9 hours later...I'm back heading home. I made some spreadsheets for myself during those 9 hours...went to lunch and got a ride a home. A co-worker lives across the street and he has contracted a driver to take to and from work each day. I weaseled my way into his car for the ride home, and he even showed me a spot in the neighborhood where you can buy China's finest 12 year old Whiskey...from as it says "from Rare Malt," at the reasonable price of about 29 Yuan, with is a little over 4 dollars a fifth. It tastes like no whiskey you have ever had before, and that is probably because it isn't...
