WTW: Taxi Drivers aka The Koreans Born Without Fear

Now I know I've talked about driving before, but taxi drivers...they are a different story. These are the men and women of Korea who are born without fear, perhaps without souls, I'm not sure. I've not had the greatest luck with these guys. I've ridden in my fair share of taxis here and the first ten times were when another person spoke to the driver, giving him the appropriate Korean or Konglish. However, lately I've grown a bit bolder nay braver and welcomed adventure where it is (bolder, braver, stupider, whatever). This boldness and bravery has led to a bit of frustration and laughter in the pass few weeks, so for this WTW I bring you-The Taxi Driver.

The green light changes to green and he doesn't stop. The rain pours against his window, obscuring his view, and he accelerates into the curve. The leather seats in the back have just been cleaned and glossed and the waygook in the back flies to the other side of the cab, arms and legs flailing. It's just another taxi ride in the city. When you see that little bullet of silver with a light on top you know it's a car that means business. I have a love/hate relationship with these little cars. Their cabs are clean. It doesn't reek of smoke, or nasty people. Seats are leather and the TV is always on. TV?! Oh did I not mention that before? Drivers have a little TV mounted next to their GPS so they can drive and watch TV at the same time. Convenient, no?

A few of my own experiences in a taxi for you:
A couple of weeks ago my friend Aimee and I went into the city for Seollal. After a brief stint of shopping we decided it was time to head to the hotel. It was raining, we were tired and didn't want to walk to the subway stop. The question "want to take a taxi" was a question that made the evening all the more interesting. After a short call to a friend to get the Korean for our hotel, we hopped into the taxi. After pronouncing EVERY WORD CORRECTLY the taxi driver still asked, "What? Where?" in Korean. After a few more attempts, Aimee and I exited the taxi. We made a dash for taxi round 2. This time I tried different directions. YMCA 가 주 세 요 (take me to the YMCA please).  He repeated, "YMCA?" You got it buddy. That's the one. Take me there. To the YMCA.
We started driving in the right direction and I relaxed thinking that I had mastered the taxi. Then, 10 minutes later we turn down a dark alley. Good feeling gone. We pull to a stop in front of the YWCA. Oh for the love of God. I say to him "No, yMca" I point to the building and say, "yWca" this happens a few more times, all the while the driver points to the building saying, "ne, yogi" (yes, here). Yogi yogi yogi!! Finally he points angrily to the fare screen which means, "look girls, you're on your own. Now get the hell outta my cab." Aimee and I get out, in the rain, in a dark alley, in a part of town I've never seen. About five seconds later I look down the alley at the taillights of the cab and say to Aimee, "My umbrella is in the back of that taxi."

Then last week on my way to the radio station to record the show (which was awesome by the way!) I grabbed a taxi. As he crosses the three lanes of traffic to retrieve me, he almost side swipes another car. This should have been my warning. Is it bad that I'm numb to the horn blowing and almost car crashing? I get in and tell him where to go and he has no clue what I said. That's okay, I brought the Korean with me too. He glances at it a few times...a few times more...sucks in his breath and says, "okay okay" in English. I was too busy thinking about the show and being nervous about being on the radio to look at where we were going. Mistake #2 of the night. Then after about 15 minutes I start to notice that this taxi driver has no idea where we are going. I can't help him. I've never been there either and there is that whole language barrier thing. Two equally lost people, one who loves the brakes so much the other is a bit carsick. Finally, he pulls to the side of the road, asks a pedestrian the equivalent of, "where the hell is this?" in Korean. Something I have never ever ever of evers seen or heard of happening. Aren't taxi drivers like a walking GPS? Don't they have a GPS? Shouldn't it be a requirement that you know every freaking neighborhood in your city before you get behind the wheel of a taxi? How is it that I manage to hail the only taxi drivers in the entire city who don't know where the hell they're going!? I digress. He stops in front of another building hesitantly asks, "okay?" Sure. Okay. I HAVE NO CLUE! It's your job to know the city. I get out and after a more competent taxi ride, I arrive at the freaking radio station. Late.

Not all taxi experiences are bad. I've done well a few times and without any help. Taxi drivers have usually been kind and patient with me and I'll be damned if some of them aren't the best drivers I've ever seen (breaking road laws aside). I'm never freaked out by the drivers themselves as they are never very shady characters. Also, it's freaking cheap to take a taxi. A recent ride was $8 and Aimee said it would have been $22 in Chicago. I do love a good deal people. Taxis, love them or hate them, I couldn't live without them.

The Way We Drive and Survive

Korea is a country filled with fantastic people. Cashiers at grocery stores are polite and help you count out money, when you have no idea what is what; they offer to help you find your bus without being asked. Most of the younger people in my city practice their English by saying "Hello!" as I pass by and my adult students write notes in Korean for me to give to bus or taxi drivers so I won't get lost. Seriously, Korea is the land of ultimate kindness*. Koreans are the hardest working group of people I've ever seen and are extremely respectful of customers, clients, and elders. They are organized and are diligent at their job.

*Note, there are still mean people in Korea. Don't be disillusioned.


So it is something of a mystery as to what is going on with the roadways in this country. Now, I am not generalizing and saying that all Koreans are bad drivers, because I have seen (and lived to tell the tale) of some God awful driving in the states and in South Africa. But Korea is a land filled with roads and highways where one prays heavily before entering. All travelers call on Jesus, Buddha, Allah, Edward Cullen, whomever they worship. The first ride I took in Korea, on the day I arrived, I had never clutched my seatbelt so hard or thought I was going to die so many times in the span of 10 minutes.

The government could have saved their money and not painted yellow and white lines on the road. Really, what is their purpose? The roads aren't any prettier.

Sidewalks are not just for pedestrians who have chosen life instead of imminent death. Oh no, we are joined by bicycles, skaters, deliveryman* on mopeds, and cars...still in Drive.

*Deliverymen have surely made a deal with the devil as they drive anywhere where there is space, risking life and limb to delivery rice and noodles. In traffic, deliverymen will often drive in between the cars bumping side mirrors along the way. 


Crossing the sidewalk is another time in one's life when it is possible to see his own life flash before his eyes. A traveller crosses himself, looks heaven ward, and then straight up hauls ass across the street. Even as that little green man lights the way, reminding us that it's ok to cross the street, we know he is lying. Cars don't look at the picture show on the side of the road, nor do they pay attention to the light show in front of them. Green, yellow, red. All the same, if there is a person on the road then maybe, perhaps, they'll think about slowing down. Maybe. Perhaps. Old men and women dash across the street begging they won't be hit (no one is safe, age will not deter a taxi driver), mothers clutch their children as they run as fast as their tiny feet can pound the pavement. Making it across the street is like making it to the Holy Land in the Old Testament.

To ride in a taxi is to say good bye to all you hold dear. They love to punch the gas almost as much as they love to punch the brakes. They floor their little car forward only to put, what I imagine as, both feet on the brake to come to a screeching halt in front of a crosswalk. Think Harry Potter in "The Prisoner of Azkaban" as he rides the Knight Bus. Upon entering a taxi, a passenger looks frantically for the seatbelt, rips it across his stomach and pulls it tight. Riding a bus is almost the same experience except...no seat belts, sometimes not even a seat. A surfer on the North Shore has nothing on a person standing up in bus in Korea. I mean, I personally give you a round of applause. Well done. Oh, and usually size has something to do with who you pull out in front of. Unless you want MACK stamped on the back of your car you generally steer away from 18 wheelers and large moving vehicles. Not quite the story here in Korea. Girth and width have nothing do with fear on the roads. Tiny little smart cars are not afraid of some Huge Ass Bus coming their way. 'Fraid not friends.

 It is quite certain, that when one enters the roadways of Korea he is surely staring death in his ugly concrete colored face.