There are certain people that you just have to be able to trust. At home, it's the contracts department in my office. At church, it's the nursery workers watching your kids (I imagine, no kids of my own). Traveling, it's definitely the driver. Drivers definitely carry your life in their hands - knowing the best routes, shortcuts, and traffic-free spots are all key, but it's more than just that. They have to know how to navigate through police checkpoints without getting stopped, see all those potholes in the road before we hit one, fix the car when it breaks down. Drivers end up knowing basically everything about your life - whether you want them to or not. They see you at your best and worst, and they remember. So, the first person to befriend in a new country? A taxi driver who can get you around town safely and quickly.
My first driver was - well, that was a different story (see earlier blog post). My first good driver was Big John in Gulu - about 300 pounds and the nicest man you've ever met, Big John took care of me the whole time I was in Uganda. He always checked up on me, and made sure I was safe and getting where I needed to be. He also handed me the car keys, and let me drive myself around Gulu at night (maybe not so smart, but at least I was independent :) Big John loved to give me life advice - all about when to get married and have babies, but also to take my time and be happy and wait for the right person.
Then in Zimbabwe, we had Shepherd - he was lovely, and always got me around on time. In Kenya, my favorite driver was Maurice - he used to drive tanker trucks from Johannesburg to Nairobi and back. In another lifetime, he drove the High Bishop around Juba. He was always, always in a good mood, and knew where the traffic was going to be on any given day (if you've ever sat for 4 hours in Nairobi traffic, you understand why this is important). We had some other drivers who tried to give me life advice in Kenya (thanks a lot, Alex) - told me I should already be having babies, and I need to find a Kenyan man to take care of me. I gave him a lil' dose of American Feminism, which totally confused him, hah!
My driver here in Juba is Saddiq. He was a bit quiet when I first arrived, but he's loosened up significantly over the past few months. He taught me some Juba Arabic, and even knows the Saturday routine - yoga, swimming, then work. Now he even teases me for all the bags that I carry around! Saddiq only works during the day, so I now have a cadre of Kenyan taxi drivers who drop me off in the evenings - Amos, Paul, Bonny, Moses, Hafeez, David... they are also great, except for Hafeez who sometimes drinks between drop off and pickup, *sigh*
When I first got to Juba, I heard two versions of the same story - some gals who worked for my company had gotten stopped by the police, and they told me that they had talked the police down from taking lots of money and blah blah. Then Saddiq told his version of the story, in which the girls were "all shaking" and he had to speak to the police to let them go. Guess whose story I believe?
If I come back to Juba long-term, I will definitely want to drive myself around - but until then, I'm so thankful for Saddiq and his slow, methodical way of getting me around town safely.
My first driver was - well, that was a different story (see earlier blog post). My first good driver was Big John in Gulu - about 300 pounds and the nicest man you've ever met, Big John took care of me the whole time I was in Uganda. He always checked up on me, and made sure I was safe and getting where I needed to be. He also handed me the car keys, and let me drive myself around Gulu at night (maybe not so smart, but at least I was independent :) Big John loved to give me life advice - all about when to get married and have babies, but also to take my time and be happy and wait for the right person.
Then in Zimbabwe, we had Shepherd - he was lovely, and always got me around on time. In Kenya, my favorite driver was Maurice - he used to drive tanker trucks from Johannesburg to Nairobi and back. In another lifetime, he drove the High Bishop around Juba. He was always, always in a good mood, and knew where the traffic was going to be on any given day (if you've ever sat for 4 hours in Nairobi traffic, you understand why this is important). We had some other drivers who tried to give me life advice in Kenya (thanks a lot, Alex) - told me I should already be having babies, and I need to find a Kenyan man to take care of me. I gave him a lil' dose of American Feminism, which totally confused him, hah!
My driver here in Juba is Saddiq. He was a bit quiet when I first arrived, but he's loosened up significantly over the past few months. He taught me some Juba Arabic, and even knows the Saturday routine - yoga, swimming, then work. Now he even teases me for all the bags that I carry around! Saddiq only works during the day, so I now have a cadre of Kenyan taxi drivers who drop me off in the evenings - Amos, Paul, Bonny, Moses, Hafeez, David... they are also great, except for Hafeez who sometimes drinks between drop off and pickup, *sigh*
When I first got to Juba, I heard two versions of the same story - some gals who worked for my company had gotten stopped by the police, and they told me that they had talked the police down from taking lots of money and blah blah. Then Saddiq told his version of the story, in which the girls were "all shaking" and he had to speak to the police to let them go. Guess whose story I believe?
If I come back to Juba long-term, I will definitely want to drive myself around - but until then, I'm so thankful for Saddiq and his slow, methodical way of getting me around town safely.
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