Picture - Gulf news
The last week has been extremely hectic for
me. I had a hundred and one errands to run from sending all my
belongings back to South Africa, to closing up banking accounts and of
course doing last minute shopping.
Naturally I was in and out of many cabs as I did not wish to
inconvenience my friends from taking me from point A to point B. Whilst
chatting to a taxi driver some time back, I recall him telling me that
he has the best job in the world as he interacts with many weird and
wonderful characters on a daily basis from all walks of life; each
passenger having their own identity with their own fair share of
problems, trials and tribulations. Over the past few years in the
Kingdom I have come across my own fair share of colourful taxi drivers.
Last week a friend of mine brought his sister to Riyadh for a course at
the university. We had planned to meet up at the hotel around lunch
time. They were residing at the Golden Tulip hotel. I called the
limousine service and the Indian driver arrived promptly within a few
minutes. I enquired if he knew where the hotel was located and he
replied in the affirmative. During the long half and hour trip down town
Riyadh in peak traffic, he did not speak a single word. Suddenly the
car came to an abrupt screeching halt opposite an old delapidated
building. " This is the hotel madam. You go now." he said. On top of the
building there was a sign that read Golden Tulip Olaya house. I asked
the driver to please wait until I find out if this is the hotel as the
building looked old and run down. The entrance of the building was also
closed with a chain and lock. As I got off the car the driver simply
sped off without waiting for me. He basically left me in the middle of
nowhere. After enquiring from a shop owner round the corner, it was
established that the hotel was located there initially but has been
closed down a few months ago. Eventually I had to take another cab and
make my way in the opposite direction to the new Golden Tulip hotel
located in the Nasriyya area of Riyadh. That same evening I headed off
to Hayat mall to meet some friends for dinner. My taxi driver was a
young gentleman from Pakistan who initially thought that I was a Saudi
woman. He quoted me a rate that was exorbitantly high compared to the
normal rate and only after conversing with him in urdu did his price
come down. He was extremely shocked to discover that I was a South
African woman and enquired about my roots. He wanted to know where did I
learn urdu from. In Saudi Arabia your nationality determines your
standard of living and governs all aspect of your life within the
Kingdom. Within the taxi industry the nationality issue also rears its
ugly head with Pakistani drivers complaining about their Saudi
counterparts and vice versa. This driver told me not to ever travel with
a Saudi taxi driver as they are not safe and a Saudi driver I met
during one of my shopping trips told me that all Pakistani drivers are
dogs and that they overcharge Saudi women. As you can see this is a
definite case of the pot calling the kettle black. Any way, behind this
Pakistani driver's bright smile lurked an inner sadness. Whilst waiting
in the traffic he related a story to me about his brothers daughter who
was born with a metabolic disorder. Under the auspices of the late King
Fahad, the family were granted permission for the child to be treated at
a hospital in Riyadh that specializes in genetic disorders. His nieces
name was also Sumayya and apparently she also had beautiful eyes. When
King Fahad passed away, Abdulla was sworn in as the King of Saudi Arabia
and with Fahad's death, their royal decree was no more. They required a
new approval. During this approval process, Sumayya became very ill and
was admitted to hospital for 15 days. When she was discharged from
hospital she was given a few months supply of medication. Due to red
tape and bureaucracy their application requesting for treatment at the
hospital was taking an eternity to process. When her medication supply
was depleted her family were unable to obtain more medication from the
hospital and getting the drugs from overseas would take time. Sumayya
became worse with each passing day and eventually succumbed to her
death. The driver had tears in his eyes and then took out a photo of his
beloved niece from his wallet to show me. She was the apple of his eye.
I felt sad and heart sore when I heard the driver's story. After having
dinner with my friends I decided to make my way to Lulu hypermarket.
Naturally I flagged down a cab from outside the mall. The driver
happened to be a young 23 year old Saudi gentleman. I got the impression
that he only reason he took up this profession part time was to get in
touch with the female species of his nation...lol. As soon as I got into
the car he was chatty wanting to know which part of Saudi Arabia I
hailed from and what was my profession. He was also under the impression
that I am a Saudi woman. The car weaved its way through peak traffic
coming to a screeching halt on two occasions when two cars unexpectedly
tried cutting in front of us. Halfway through my destination we came to a
traffic signal and a young Saudi gentleman pulled up next to us in a
beautiful white mercedez benz. The driver of the car rolled down his
window and my driver was under the impression that the gentleman
required assistance with directions. I was shocked to hear the man in
the other car asking my driver to request for my mobile number. He also
said that the driver should ask me to get off the car and leave me at
the street corner. In that way I will find it difficult to find another
cab and out of desperation I may just decide to hop a ride with him. I
asked my driver to roll up his window. When the traffic signal turned
green, my driver sped off down the road with the white mercedez benz
chasing us until I reached the entrance of Lulu hypermarket. My cab
driver seemed quite happy and excited to motor away down the road
weaving his way through the traffic whilst the famous Iraqi singer Majed
al Muhandis gave us company. My driver was a big fan of his and mind
you he sang the songs ' ana hanyet' and 'atawassal beek" in a really
melodious voice. I even suggested that he should take up a career in
singing as he was very talented in my opinion. As a side note in 2010
the Iraqi public were quite disappointed to discover that their best
singer Majed Al muhandis gave up his Iraqi nationality to take up Saudi
nationality. Many of my Saudi friends were quite amazed at how the man
got citizenship when there are thousands of people who have resided in
the Kingdom for fifty years and more but have not acquired nationality.
These individuals have been working in Saudi all their life. Their kids
have been brought up like Saudi children with Arabic being their primary
language. Newspaper reports at the time suggested that perhaps a member
of the ruling family was smitten with the artists singing ability and
that is why he was offered instant Saudi citizenship. The taxi driver
that I will never ever forget was a Saudi gentleman in his late
thirties. Mom and I encountered him a year ago during a shopping trip to
Sahara mall. What really surprised me about him was the fact that he
was immaculately dressed. I then discovered that he was an Arabic
teacher at a well known school and because he had two wives residng in
two different cities he worked as a cab driver after school to earn
extra money. Whilst chatting to him he asked why doesn't my friend speak
a word. He was under the impression that my mom was my friend. Mom does
not know how to speak Arabic and hence she was silent during the entire
trip. " Is your friend married? I have an elder brother who is not
married so I can arrange for her to marry him. What about you, are you
married?" he asked. I also played along in the conversation and when we
finally reached the compound I informed him that I was not accompanied
by my friend but rather I am with my mom. He was so embarrassed and
shocked that his face turned tomato red. He got off the car and
hurriedly opened mom's door. He complimented mom telling her that she
looked extremely young for her age and then he apologized for asking too
many personal questions. He also refused to take the money for his
services rendered to us. I recall mom and I having a good laugh when he
drove off. Oh and I forgot to mention my encounter with a cab driver who
does matchmaking as well. He tried hooking me up with an American
doctor that utilized his services on a daily basis. Whilst it feels good
being able to drive a car in South Africa I do miss riding in a cab not
having to worry about the stress of driving in peak traffic. South
Africa needs to implement a better public transport system that is safe
and efficient. According to writer Scott Murray, there is a small town
in Saudi Arabia where young men aspire to become cab drivers in New York
city. If they are able to fulfill their dream they then become the
pride of their hometown. Whilst elite members of society may frown upon
taxi drivers as being a part of a lower socio -economic group, it is the
world's second oldest profession and without them the world's oldest
profession may not have been able to operate.
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