When we go on buying trips to Mexico (for Chiripa), we do a lot of walking. We also rely on public transportation – buses and taxis. So we have met a lot of taxi drivers. Each taxi driver in Mexico has his own personal style (the taxi driver is always a “he”). Some are middle-aged and courtly, while others are young and macho. Some are talkative, some not. Most have a rosary or religious token hanging from the rear view mirror. Some wear seat belts, but others (perhaps trusting in the Virgin’s protection) only pretend to be buckling their seat belt when they approach a police car.
Most taxi drivers prefer Mexican traditional or pop music on the radio. But you may hear classical or New Age music, or even Johnnie cash singing “Your Own Personal Jesus.” Many taxi drivers have been in the U.S., but most say they prefer Mexico. As one driver told us on this trip, Mexico is “más bonito” (more beautiful) and “más tranquilo” (more tranquil) than Aurora, Illinois, and you don’t have to spend so much time putting coats on and off.
Mexican taxi drivers usually know exactly how to get where you want to go, (they sometimes they take disconcerting shortcuts that make you wonder, if only for a moment, whether you are being kidnapped). But taxi drivers occasionally have trouble locating the obscure and unmarked family workshops that Chiripa seeks out.
In Guadalajara, we asked our young taxi driver to get us back to our somewhat low-profile downtown hotel during rush hour. He gave the impression that he knew where it was, and we started on our way. We passed, among other things, the statue dedicated to the “Niños heroes” (child heroes) – the young Mexico City military cadets who fought to the death against the invading U.S. Army in 1846, while the main Mexican army abandoned the city. Every Mexican city has a street named “Niños Heroes.” In the Mexican-American War, the U.S. forced Mexico to cede much of its northern territory (including Texas, California, Utah, Colorado, and most of New Mexico and Arizona).
The Guadalajara taxi driver seemed to have a plan, and was making good headway. But eventually he admitted that he didn’t know exactly where our hotel was located. I knew we were in trouble when he asked me which way to go. We were actually pretty close, but on the wrong side of the central plaza, and the downtown streets were choked with traffic. Getting to the other side took, well, a long time....
We crept along -- measuring our progress in feet, not blocks. The young driver maintained a cheerful demeanor, but was sweating with anxiety. We passed the glorious cathedral, as well as the famous hotel established in 1610 (our pace gave us plenty of time to take in the sites). We could easily have made faster progress on foot, but the taxi driver was determined and we didn’t have the heart to stop him short of his goal. As the sun was going down, we finally arrived. The taxi driver beamed, and we paid him extra for his trouble.
[Note: See post on March 10, 2008 for a description of the hotel Chiripa partners were trying to find.]
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