Julius' Taxi
Julius is a handsome, young Kenyan man. He’d be a movie star if he lived in the United States. But in Kisumu, Julius is a polite taxi driver. Steve and Rachel introduce me and Ian to Julius one night while we’re dining at the Lake View Hotel. The lobby of the hotel has tables spread throughout, so it looks more like a restaurant. The waiter’s serving station is the registration desk. Locals come here, not usually white people. But Steve and Rachel have an adventurous side, having met in Nicaragua years ago. They’re not a couple, but they meet in spots around the world when possible. We order goat and chicken with ugali and roasted potatoes—it takes more than hour for the food to be served. Once we’ve eaten it is very late. A little late and it’s okay to take a boda boda home. But this late, 11 p.m., and a taxi is in order. So Rachel calls Julius and he arrives promptly.
We all pile into his car of indeterminate make. But it’s old. And it smells of gasoline. The windows rattle, there are rips and tears throughout the interior and the seats lack cushioning. The car has a 3 on the tree gear shift and nothing powered. It reminds me of my 1964 Ford Fairlane and it smells like it, too. The car is heavy and heaves when Julius releases the clutch. A couple of times, it dies because we’re on an incline. But Julius manages to get it started and up through the gears, but we go no faster than 20 mph. When we turn onto our dirt road, every single rock sends a shock through the old car. It rattles noisily and the landscape jolts our feet against the floorboards. Ian puts Julius’ phone number in his phone so we can use Julius over the next two years.
We arrive home at 11:15 p.m. to find the gate chained and padlocked. While Ian and I climb over the 8-foot gate, being careful of the spikes across the top, Julius works hard to turn his big car around in the narrow road. We laugh at him and he laughs at us. Julius lost both parents before he finished high school, but he was able to get his diploma. College is out of the question for now, so Julius shares the cab with another guy. I’m hoping our patronage over the next two years is a benefit to Julius. He’d be a movie star in the U.S. For now, he’s happy to receive 200 shillings for dropping us home. When Julius picks us up at the Roof Top Bar last night, he teases us by asking, 'Will you have to climb the gate again?'
We all pile into his car of indeterminate make. But it’s old. And it smells of gasoline. The windows rattle, there are rips and tears throughout the interior and the seats lack cushioning. The car has a 3 on the tree gear shift and nothing powered. It reminds me of my 1964 Ford Fairlane and it smells like it, too. The car is heavy and heaves when Julius releases the clutch. A couple of times, it dies because we’re on an incline. But Julius manages to get it started and up through the gears, but we go no faster than 20 mph. When we turn onto our dirt road, every single rock sends a shock through the old car. It rattles noisily and the landscape jolts our feet against the floorboards. Ian puts Julius’ phone number in his phone so we can use Julius over the next two years.
We arrive home at 11:15 p.m. to find the gate chained and padlocked. While Ian and I climb over the 8-foot gate, being careful of the spikes across the top, Julius works hard to turn his big car around in the narrow road. We laugh at him and he laughs at us. Julius lost both parents before he finished high school, but he was able to get his diploma. College is out of the question for now, so Julius shares the cab with another guy. I’m hoping our patronage over the next two years is a benefit to Julius. He’d be a movie star in the U.S. For now, he’s happy to receive 200 shillings for dropping us home. When Julius picks us up at the Roof Top Bar last night, he teases us by asking, 'Will you have to climb the gate again?'
posted by Cindi at 10:53 PM
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