Of Taxis, Terror and Time

During my 18 years of life in Beijing, many hours a day were spent in the notorious mode of transport – the Beijing cab. Experiences ranged from friendly encounters to frightening episodes. My respect for the ‘Beijing Cabbie’ runs deep. May they and those who travel with them be safe.

Meters ticking

Orders bellowing 

Shrill voices shrieking

Grunting, snorting, burping

The clearing of throats

Fumes spewing 

Lethal

Infusing all within their reach

Stealing light

Total disregard for that which is life

Yesterday’s smoke hangs thick

Murky windows

Eyelids heavy

Fingers tapping 

Little finger nail - long and threatening

Constant comments spurting forth 

Angry tones

Swerving in and out of traffic

Changing lanes

Never patient, never waiting

Senseless ongoing blasting of hooters

For reasons unknown

The death of a journey

Levels of tolerance obliterated

Cursing madness

Worry-beads in constant motion

Playing havoc with fingers

Trinkets hanging

Forever bold

Bringing luck, offering protection

Hours of boredom ensnared in traffic 

Moments of sheer terror

Your days erratic

Unpredictable and long

Spent in total exhaustion 

Aware but not alert

Watching but not seeing

Yielding to recklessness 

Aggression rears its ugly head

Irresponsible decisions the norm

Each and every day ‘Shifu’

People’s lives in your hands

Their destiny

Your choices

Take responsibility for that which is

For what reason do you wake in the morning

Filled with anger

Your frustration levels soaring

Grunting at people 

Who greet you and thank you in your language

   

Some days you are a diamond 

Friendly disposition

Kindness and empathy abound

Respectful too

Acknowledging my feeble attempts to speak your tongue

Curiosity leads to the inevitable

Disregard for vehicles behind, alongside or in front

He turns to study my hands

Looking for evidence 

That of diamonds and gold

Shocked and intrigued

Your heritage is where?

Disbelief of my skin colour

From Africa you are not

Cannot be

Flasks of hot tea

Slurped

Pores drenched in yesterday’s garlic

A sensory attack of note

In excess

Interludes with colleagues

Alive with banter

Stories shared

Dealing cards

On pavements unforgiving

Crumpled notes exchanging hands

An endless journey of barter and deals

Denominations of Kwai, Renminbi and Yuan

Each worthy of paying the fare

Of delivering the souls

Shades of orange, blue, green and purple

On four wheels

The seasons represented

Gone is the ‘Miandi’ and red ‘Xiali’

Prestige lies with the black Audi

This is my route. This is my journey

Day after day

It will end. Move on I will

To explore further

And beyond

This is your route. This is your journey

Year after year

Will it ever end

Will you ever explore further

And beyond

When sitting at ease one day

In the sunset of your life

With worry-beads in slow motion 

Recalling a life lived

Will you yearn for that journey of motion 

That once was yours

Or will you gently stroke the beads

Giving thanks to stillness

‘Shifu’ is a common way of addressing your taxi driver in Beijing.