Here’s a glance at some of my taxi-taking experiences. Since typing this, I’ve moved my crib, and it’s within walking distance, so no more crazy cabbies. For your information, anyone, I mean ANYONE, can serve as a taxi. They can charge what they want, take whatever route they want, and make you sit anywhere they want. Oh yeah, they can drop you off wherever they want while dodging you through bumper to bumper traffic. So simply hold out your hand (palm facing down) and enjoy the ride. Don’t bother buckling up… no wonder the life expectancy is significantly lower here!
BMW Gummy – The cars here range from Puegots to Hummers. This guy was very friendly and had a tricked out BMW whip. Got me where I wanted to go and I was thinking he may have been one of the new money Kazaks when all of a sudden he flashed me a toothless smile. Grill on the front of the beemer didn’t exactly match his…
Russian Bear – A very large Russian took me to school one morning in his mid 80s Audi diesel. He deduced that I was American and was excited to pop in a CD in his ‘NOT mid 80s’ Japanese stereo. Lots of Elvis, some Tom Jones, and fortunately only a little showtune action. I try to keep quiet (not just because I don’t speak the language) while being a passenger. The few times conversation is initiated, my drivers want to know (in this order) 1)why the heck did I come to Kazakhstan 2)what do I think of George Bush 3)what do American girls look like.
Carjack-izstan – Two teens in leather jackets driving a Nissan gave me ride last week. I thought the car was hot- they were playing with the lights, radio, wipers. But I made it safe and they proved to be harmless. I’ve only bailed on a taxi ride once. Why? The driver and passenger were whispering a little too much for me and they obviously thought the best way to my destination was to drive the complete opposite way – towards the snow-covered mountains. Had a bad feeling, so first red light, I clenched my stuff, and booked out of the cab.
My commute was about 1 to 1.5 hrs each way at my host stay. And it was stressful. Had to print out my address and show it to the taxi driver. About four days into it, I comprehended from one of my drivers that the address I was showing was a new street name (in Kazakh) and most people only new it by it’s Russian name. These rides put a dent in my funds too, I usually bargained about $4 USD for the ride, but sometimes $5 USD each way. The three drivers above were some of the characters, the majority of the time the ride was uneventful and safe.
Forget Tony Danza, I’m the Boss!
BMW Gummy – The cars here range from Puegots to Hummers. This guy was very friendly and had a tricked out BMW whip. Got me where I wanted to go and I was thinking he may have been one of the new money Kazaks when all of a sudden he flashed me a toothless smile. Grill on the front of the beemer didn’t exactly match his…
Russian Bear – A very large Russian took me to school one morning in his mid 80s Audi diesel. He deduced that I was American and was excited to pop in a CD in his ‘NOT mid 80s’ Japanese stereo. Lots of Elvis, some Tom Jones, and fortunately only a little showtune action. I try to keep quiet (not just because I don’t speak the language) while being a passenger. The few times conversation is initiated, my drivers want to know (in this order) 1)why the heck did I come to Kazakhstan 2)what do I think of George Bush 3)what do American girls look like.
Carjack-izstan – Two teens in leather jackets driving a Nissan gave me ride last week. I thought the car was hot- they were playing with the lights, radio, wipers. But I made it safe and they proved to be harmless. I’ve only bailed on a taxi ride once. Why? The driver and passenger were whispering a little too much for me and they obviously thought the best way to my destination was to drive the complete opposite way – towards the snow-covered mountains. Had a bad feeling, so first red light, I clenched my stuff, and booked out of the cab.
My commute was about 1 to 1.5 hrs each way at my host stay. And it was stressful. Had to print out my address and show it to the taxi driver. About four days into it, I comprehended from one of my drivers that the address I was showing was a new street name (in Kazakh) and most people only new it by it’s Russian name. These rides put a dent in my funds too, I usually bargained about $4 USD for the ride, but sometimes $5 USD each way. The three drivers above were some of the characters, the majority of the time the ride was uneventful and safe.
Forget Tony Danza, I’m the Boss!
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