Fender Bender...

So I had my first car wreck.  Wreck might be a bit of an overstatement though.  I’m not sure there were enough broken bones for it to be an all out wreck.  Bit of a joke there…chill Mom.  No broken bones.  I just got the front end of the van clipped by a taxi driver.  

Let me explain the van.  My work vehicle looks like it is about 6,000 years old.  It has two rows of bench seats in the back.  The last two have been removed and lost.  It has dents and scratches and bits of blue paint left on it.  It is nicknamed the Silver Bullet.  It must be 20 feet long and James and I often claim it should be driven off a steep cliff.

I fixed the radio.  I still don’t get stations.  There are actually only two here, but the antenna has been broken off.  I can however listen to my iPod with a tape adapter.  It’s been a good car.  Been hit a few times and it’s pretty ugly but I’m glad I have something.  

So Saturday we are on the way to lunch.  I’m driving through a busy section of the city (near Bone Hill for those who have been here).  I notice a taxi driver to the right isn’t paying much attention.  I think, “He might hit me.”  He did.  Never even looked.  Put a huge dent in his front door, but only a small scratch on the Bullet.  We both decided to let it go and drove on.  But we stayed close.  He kept looking out his window checking the damage to his car (he had no concern for mine).  This didn’t help his driving might I add.

Eventually he looked to me and pointed at the door implying, “Look what you did to my car.”  I pointed for him to pull over and quickly moved from the far left lane to the shoulder.  He followed.  

Now understand that in this culture if a disagreement happens the one that yells the loudest is most often right.  He knows it, the other person knows it, and the onlookers know it.  I chewed that driver for a few minutes.  He wanted me to do something about his car.  I told him I was sorry but he hit me.  Therefore he should pay me (knew this would never happen).  

One of his riders spoke English.  She spoke up and I asked her in English, “Didn’t he hit me?”  She agreed but didn’t respond when I said, “So he should have to pay me right?”  The driver wanted money from me.  If I had hit him, everyone would have demanded it.  Since he hit me, I’m supposed to move on and let it happen.  I did, but not without letting them know I could fight with them in their language and I didn’t like being treated this way.  

I told the man we were finished and go away.  He kept talking and I walked away.  We went from there to have some pretty good burgers at a relatively new place called The Texas BBQ.  Not quite the same, but pretty good eats.

Tomorrow is a big day.  I have to go to a government office for some papers.  We are scared it might go poorly.  I’ve been told a fine is likely and arrest or being kicked out of the country isn’t out of the question.  Remember me in the morning.