Cabbies and Traffic

I’m moving a bunch of old posts from a long defunct livejournal over here. This is one from when I was living in Cairo in the summer of 2007.

You haven’t seen batshit crazy driving till you’ve ridden in a taxi around a rotary in downtown Cairo. Holy shit. I really wish I had a video camera, ‘cause words are just not going to do this justice.

Cabbies are jockeying for position to get in and out, paying no attention to the lines on the road, or the solider with the gun and the whistle.

A hundred horns are going. People are dashing through it holding their hands up in the air. This is my daily commute around the rotary in Doqqi near the Cairo Sheraton. It’s next level traffic, and I feel like such a tourist for even noticing how insane it is.

A hundred horns are going. People are dashing through it holding their hands up in the air. This is my daily commute around the rotary in Doqqi near the Cairo Sheraton. It’s next level traffic, and I feel like such a tourist for even noticing how insane it is.

Today, the cab stunk of gas fumes, and the driver was hacking and coughing the whole time. His car, his job, was I think, killing him. We had the conversation I have had a hundred times in the past week. Where was I from?* “America”, and, between coughing fits, he asks me about Bush. I give the thumbs down and he smiles. “America, good place, Bush, bad.” Then he goes back to coughing, and I go back to staring at the Nile race by as we make our way down Al Nil Boulevard.

* For some reason people always think Italy, is it because of my sartorial presentation?

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