Taxi!

Yesterday I needed to go and do a bit of stocking shopping at the Sunday Hippie Fair that's located at the TV Tower in Brasilia. There's just about everything you could ever need...furniture, statues of Brasilia's sights, jewelry, crafts, food and of course the tower itself to see the view of the city.

With my new footwear I knew I'd need to take a taxi. I also knew that I wanted the taxi to wait for me while I did my quick 30 minute buzz through the fair. So prior to leaving the apartment I'd practiced phrases like, "Could you please wait for me for 30 minutes at the tower and then bring me back to my apartment?" and also "I've sprained my ankle and am buying X-mas presents for my family," (so playing on the guilt factor there) but was ready to go. I limped on over to the taxi stand which is about a 2 minute walk from my apartment.

One thing you should know is that my boot is now making an extremely loud clicking sound as I walk. Andrea asked if it was like high heels. More like if a giant had high heels or a breaking plastic sound. My friend Vanessa today started laughing about it as we walked. That's when you know how ridiculous you really sound. This new sound just adds to people watching me limp around. A gringa. A boot and now a large sound that accompanies the girl. Seriously, I hope I start getting paid for the crazy things people watch me do around here.

Anyway, got to the taxi stand where there was a taxi waiting. I walked up to the open passenger window and exchanged greetings with the taxi driver. The older gentleman smiled, a kind smile. Then I told him where I wanted to go. He said okay and I got into the front seat which is not my usual seat but that's easier with my boot. After getting in I asked if he'd be able to wait for me. Again same response. Okay. Then I told him about my ankle. He said he was sorry to hear about that and we began our 15 or so minute drive to the tower. The entire drive we chatted about the possible rain, my trip home, about his friends who live in my neighborhood, what building I lived in and that he had one friend who lived in it and exchanged other pleasantries in Portuguese. I was pretty proud of how I was doing considering I've not been to class in a couple of weeks.

I did notice as we were driving he continued to check his watch, a lot. I knew either he was late or needed to be somewhere. We sped up the little hill to the tower parking lot where he dropped me off by all of the dried flowers. He told me that he had to go and pick up a lady and take her to church and then he'd be back for me. He told me to wait by the flowers and that he'd look for me there. He also said he'd be a little late. No problem. I could wait a few extra minutes. Before leaving the taxi, he pointed to the meter. R$14. Okay I said, I'd pay him when he picked me up. Again I was thrilled by how much Portuguese I was able to understand.

He pulled away, I clicked up the small hill to buy my wares. Found things pretty easily. Did some bargaining and was glad I'd waited to buy things in Brasilia over Rio. Much better prices on the stuff I needed.

While opening my purse to put my purchases inside, I checked my phone to check the time. 32 minutes had passed. I quickly and not so quietly limped on back to the taxi pick-up point. No go. So I waited.

10 minutes.

20 minutes...

30 minutes...

40 minutes. At this point, I'd become tired, hot and annoyed so I phoned my Brazilian and Portuguese helpline also known as Andrea. She told me to phone another taxi, get the number at the taxi stand (since taxi stands usually belong to one particular company) and I could take care of paying the first driver later. Sometime soon I think she's going to start charging me since I do this at least one time a week.

Instead of calling I schlepped my butt and goods down to the other side of the Hippie Fair to the taxi stand where I found 3 taxis waiting. None were my friend but I took one home. The whole time I felt guilty, thinking I'd left my original driver in a lurch but at the same time, I needed to get back for myself and to meet a friend for lunch. I just didn't want the taxi driver to think I was some American jerk who skipped out on paying. I feel like at times I need to make sure people know that no matter where people are from, people are kind and true.

Upon arriving back at my apartment building, I explained the situation to my doorman. He completely understood my broken Portuguese. Again, feeling so proud of my Portuguese abilities. I handed him the R$14 in case the taxi driver came to my apartment. Since he knew which building was mine I wanted to make sure I had the support. I left for lunch, returned and no driver. Thinking I'd have Miguel, my amazing teaching assistant call today and remedy the situation, I went upstairs, put on my pjs and settled in. About 15 minutes later, my apartment phone rang. The driver was downstairs.

Quickly I threw on some layers and hobbled on toward the elevator. I was feeling a little nervous as I went down. Would he be upset? Would he think I'd tried to sherk my fee? When I got downstairs, there he was smiling. He told me that the lady who'd he taken and does take weekly to church had not wanted to leave and that the church was far away from where I was so he'd been quite late. No problem. I paid him the R$14 I owed and then he told me to wait a moment. He walked over to his taxi which was parked in front of the building, opened the door and reached toward his glovebox. After finding a piece of paper, he handed it to me. The paper he gave me had his name and phone number. Severino. He told me next time to call him and he can pick me up right there.