Of cabs and men

My friend, a suave Italian who watched a soft-spoken woman turn into a monster before his eyes, tried tugging at my arm with a dubious "Calm down, it’s OK."

But, as any man knows, he’ll have no fury like a woman. Period.

"Let me speak in the language you understand," I repeated, sounding less like Charlotte Gainsbourg and more like Clarice Sterling before she went soft on Hannibal. "You immediately take me to the destination I want, through the route I want, with the taximeter on. If you will not, I am calling the police immediately." For good measure, I took my mobile phone out and start punching 155.

The poor Italian, unable to understand the words but aware that this harsh tone left little to doubt, tried to cut in: "How much is it, I will pay, then we get out..."

Twice the price
The cabdriver was unmoved by my fury: "I will have to take the highway. There is a soccer game that is blocking all downtown routes," he told me, shamelessly claiming that a soccer match on the Anatolian side would effect the traffic in Etiler, where he proposed to take me for 60 YTL, about twice as much as I would pay under normal conditions.

After 15 minutes of mutual threats, cursing and name-calling (He: Stingy and Anal Retentive Bitch, Frustrated Old Maid; Me: Shameless, Bullying Scoundrel, Small Mafia-dog), I was dragged out of the taxi. "I thought he would beat you up," said my Italian friend.

No, Turkish men do not beat up women in public. Little did he know that he had escaped danger, as the Turkish habit is not to beat up the offending female but her male escort. Lesson number one: In almost anywhere in the world, taxis are challenges for tourists.

Lesson number two: If you have to take a taxi, do not even think about taking one near the Covered Bazaar in Istanbul or the Inter-city Bus Station in Ankara.

"Ankara cab drivers are nice," said a friend. "It is just that they do not know the city. Istanbul cabdrivers, on the other hand, think it is perfectly alright that they do not know their way around, and also, they are aggressive and play around with the taximeter."

"Basically, we ask for two main functions from a cab," complained another. "To know where he is going and to look where he is going. Anything else, such as good music or a good odor in the car, is an extra."

Yet, many of the cabbies resist both driving safely Ğ much less parking civilly Ğ and learning their way around the city. "I need you to take me to Turgutlu Sokak. Do you know where it is?" you ask.

"Well, it is somewhere near Gaziosmanpaşa, right? Can you describe the way?" the cabbie replies; confident that you, or someone else, will show him the way.

No, I bloody do not want to describe the way, nor do I want to see you turning down the same street, with the taximeter running while you search someone to ask for directions. I simply want to talk on my mobile phone the whole way, confident that the driver will take me there via the most rational and cheapest way possible.

’A universal phenomenon’
But no, instead, it is the driver who talks comfortably on his mobile phone, while you desperately try to convey to him directions through taps on his shoulder.

"It is a universal phenomenon," said my Italian friend. "You should see the drivers of the Place Agora, near Grand Place, in Brussels."

Well, I have seen them: this is the Iranian constituency that would not allow taxi-drivers of other nationalities to take customers on their spot and would charge you double. If you object, they have a ready retort: "You are racist!"

"How can I be racist, I am Turkish!" I shouted back once.

Let us admit it, Turkey is a country where the "Traffic Monster" in each and every one of us gets out far too easily Ğ sometimes with fatal consequences. Thus, any attempts to diminish the road deaths, be it the Turkish campaign "Trafikte Dikkat, Onbin Hayat" (Attention in Traffic, Let Us Save 10,000 Lives) or an attempt to adhere to the "European Road Safety Charter" are welcome.

But the Chamber of Taxi Drivers and the traffic police also have their part to play in saving our lives or, on a lighter tone, saving our sanity. At least, for those of us who do not have chauffeur-drive cars!