On the way to the airport this morning the best thing I can say about my cab ride was that I survived. I don’t know if the driving rules are quite as structured in South Sudan. I know that is where he was from because I was trying to distract him from whatever voices were telling him that today was a good day to die. I even had him turn on whatever he was listening to before he picked me up but that turned out to be a mistake. It sounded like an angry mob banging garbage cans together and complaining in chant form about the poor quality refuse containers.
While we ignored shoulder driving rules and treated lane lines as whimsical suggestions I realized that he couldn’t see through the rising sun. The haze on his windshield had texture so he flipped down the visor and used it like an extension to his baseball cap. He actually leaned forward and touched the bill to the visor. I was in the back on a van bench seat that allowed me to hold on to both handles. I am not a big prayer guy especially about me but I found myself in a mobile Iron Cross with my head bowed. When I looked up we locked em up to avoid rear ending a stopped truck.
He must have a pit crew to swap tires and brakes at least once a week. And one side note he crushed the best ever airport time by more than five minutes. Aside from choosing to continue the ride after he almost wrecked turning on to the frontage road by my house I made another error. I wore my suit coat as a jacket and as I type to you now it is hanging up to dry after my laundering efforts. It is harder than you would think to sweat completely through a dress jacket especially with your arms stretched out to each side in cargo tether mode.
I book my own travel and usually choose the cheapest hotel in my preferred points whore chain. This time it bit me in the ass. I wil take some pictures tomorrow to do it justice.