I was riding home from work yesterday in a taxi and thinking about what I had wrote about not being sad to leave La Paz. Maybe that wasn’t entirely correct. You see, I had been preparing to come and work here for two years prior to my arrival. I knew I’d be coming here before I even married Jessie. For two years it was a fact of life that I’d come here and spend the next two years here. And then, three months after arriving - poof, it’s gone. That has been somewhat of a blow to my sense of being. A piece of my identity has disappeared, and I’m feeling a little bewildered by it.
I guess I was also noticing some of the stark beauty of La Paz from the window of the taxi and it brought it all to mind. And then, while pondering all of this, I smelled one of the most indescribably bad odors I had ever run across. We were passing the river that passes through La Paz, which by the time it makes it through the city can technically be decribed as a biohazard. Which, my friends, is why you don’t drink the water out of the tap here. Ah, the third world, how I’ve missed you…
Speaking of which, a word on taxis in La Paz. I’ve taken various modes of public transportation all around the world. I’ve been in fancy limos, those fun classic taxis in London, tuktuks in Bangkok, and a beaten-up Volkswagen taxi in Skopje with no A/C and a driver who refused to let me roll down the window in the middle of summer because the blowing air “would make us sick.” Hell, I’ve ridden side-saddle on the back of a scooter in Phnom Penh because that was the only way to get around that city (wow, there’s a scary memory I had blocked out for quite a while). But taking a taxi in La Paz is in a class of it’s own. First, there’s the nature of traffic in La Paz. There are a lot of hills, a lot of poorly maintained roads, and a lot of drivers who use momentum as the deciding traffic law (as in, whoever has the biggest vehicle and is going the fastest has the right of way). Then, there are the taxis, which are universally 90’s era Toyota Corollas in various states of disrepair. My favorite twist I’ve seen so far? The ability some drivers have to turn off their engines on downward hills and turn them back on again (without turning over the ignition) when back on level ground or inclines. Anyway, I’m not saying there aren’t crazier taxis rides in the world; in fact, I’m sure there are. I’m just saying that I haven’t taken them, and am not looking forward to discovering them.
