Taxi Drama

I was invited to go to a seminar this week put on by Andalene Salveson, owner of a South-African company called Monsters to Munchkins. She had the seminar at Willow Nursery which is about a 20-minute taxi ride from here. Directions in hand, I hailed a cab outside of our building and headed that way.



I should stop here to explain the taxi drivers in Dubai. As I understand it, cab drivers in the U.S. generally know the local roads and can get you places if you tell them the general vicinity. Here, you seriously have to navigate with turn-by-turn directions or you won't make it to your destination. They are somewhat known for their tendency to play dumb so they'll get a higher fare out of you. Also, there is usually a language barrier so you have to be very concise....and often very bossy.



Back to the story...we were riding down Sheikh Zayed Road, which is the equivalent of an interstate at home. When the driver tried to go onto the wrong ramp despite my back seat nagging, I knew we might have a problem.



We made it to an important intersection, and I said "turn left." He made a U-turn.



We finally got back to the intersection and turned left, I said "Turn right on 9C." He ignored me.



When we finally got back to 9C, it was dark out and I couldn't see the Willow Nursery villa anywhere! I asked the driver to pull over so I could call for better directions. Not surprisingly, he didn't listen. He drove right into another villa's driveway. Then the real drama started.



There were a few Emiratis on the porch, men and women. One of the men stood up immediately and came bolting towards my cab. I paid the driver and demanded change, but he casually rolled down his window and started cackling.



"What do you want?" he asked the Emirati.



"This is my house!! I own this house! What are you doing here??" the Emirati screamed as he marched towards us.



"GIVE. ME. MY. CHANGE!! NOOOWW!"



Ok..so I was getting dramatic. The guy was probably drinking, and just trying to give the taxi driver a hard time. Still, a little part of me was fearful.



After a few minutes of this back and forth, I finally got my change, and ran out of the cab.



The women on the porch were yelling...laughing..."Stupid! Stupid!"

I know I was panicking for no reason, but I was already so mad at the taxi driver for completely ignoring my directions, then he put me in a sketchy situation.

In the US, I would have been on the phone with his superiors ensuring he'd be reprimanded. Here....well, no one cares. Except Emiratis that are wondering why the blazes a random taxi has invaded their personal space.

I survived the debacle, and probably had no reason to fret in the first place. Just another reason why it's hard to call another country "home."