The Third Kind of Taxi

After a full day of coaching middle school basketball, my friend and I went to Pizza Hut to celebrate our two hard-fought losses. Upon finishing our dinner, we, still donning our semi-dressy coaching attire, ventured off to catch a taxi home.

Within the city limits are two kinds of taxis: petit taxis, which are legally required to remain within the city limits; and grand taxis, which are legally permitted to travel between cities. Petit taxis may legally transport up to three passengers, and they use a meter to determine the fare for the ride. Grand taxis typically transport the driver plus six cozy passengers, and fares for rides in grand taxis are substantially lower than fares for rides in petit taxis.

The subject of this story is a third kind of taxi. Little-known even to many locals, this taxi transports passengers in the nebulous area between well-established city limits and newly-established city limits. While the driver of this taxi will not likely charge his passengers any fare at all – for truly, it is not he who is driving – the rare passenger who receives a ride should pay well for the service he receives.

Recently our city’s limits expanded. In theory, the expansion of the city limits also means that petit taxis are legally permitted to transport me all the way to my residence, which had previously been approximately two miles (three and a half kilometers) outside of the city. The former city limits are also the point at which petit taxi drivers kick out passengers and limit them to one best mode of transportation: walking. I have walked this stretch of road several times.

Prior to catching a petit taxi, my friend and I discussed the gamble we were about to take. If the petit taxi driver knew that the city limits had expanded out to our residence, we would have a ride home. If the petit taxi driver did not know the location of the new city limits, we would be in a difficult spot. At the former city limits – where petit taxi drivers reduce passengers to pedestrians – a person like me would not only be a long walk from home, but also a long walk from the grand taxi stand, which is the easiest place to catch a grand taxi, the vehicle permitted to travel outside the city limits. Catching grand taxis at the former city limits is difficult, because grand taxis are coming from the grand taxi stand, where they fill up with passengers traveling to other cities.

We gambled. While the petit taxi driver traveled beyond the former city limits, he dismissed us from his vehicle a lengthy distance from our homes. We were stuck.

It was dark. Many grand taxis passed us. Many honked at us, letting us know they were full. One even stopped to let out one of its six passengers, but we needed two seats.

Finally, my friend saw something approaching in the distance that looked promising. He, thinking I’d probably decline, asked whether or not I wanted to give it a try. I, wearied from the cumulative effects of marathoning, middle school basketball and catching rides on myriad modes of transportation, quickly warmed to the idea of trying just one more method of getting from here to there.

We asked the driver for permission, and then we hopped on.

The donkey cart transported several kilos of onions – as well as my friend and me – most of the way back to our residence. The man driving the cart never asked for payment, but we found it appropriate to purchase five kilos (eleven pounds) of onions from him at between two and three times his asking price.











I figure that riding on the back of a donkey cart can only be one of two things: the best thing that happens to you all day, or the worst thing that happens to you all day.

I’d do it again in a heartbeat.