“Serving overseas as a small-town boy from America is intense, stressful and humorous! Enjoy a light-hearted story with me from our last 20 years overseas!”
– Matt
PUSHING A LITTLE FRENCHIE
I have learned, if push-starting a car, pray it be a small one!
I grew up like most people watching movies and TV shows where the exciting and fast-paced scenes happened in big cities. New York, Los Angeles, Chicago and Miami where favorite locals for the adventures. Often times, at some point, the good guys (or the bad guys) would jump into a stopped taxi and yell, “Follow that vehicle!” The taxi cab driver would oblige, squeal the tires in a quick start, but never follow too closely to be detected.
Needless to say, growing up in small-town America, I never once saw a car chase, nor stepped foot in a taxi. I can’t remember ever seeing a taxi on the actual road! Taxis just weren’t needed or it was a lot cheaper to rent a car. Nowadays, Uber and other services have changed that. And of course, those big, white, long vans are more likely to be seen on our roads transporting large families or our Amish friends. I have enjoyed having one of those vans myself.
When overseas with a team of workers in a rough, undeveloped city, I was glad to not see one of those big, white, long vans. First, it would never have fit in the narrow lanes nor through the skinny streets. Second, having gotten one of those vans stuck on a snowy drive in the winter demonstrated that they are impossible to move by pushing.
In order to get around that large, grubby overseas city to our different responsibilities, our team would split up and meet back at a given location at a set time. The only way to navigate the winding, congested streets was by the “petit taxis.” Tiny, red, French-built, sub-compact cars that buzzed around the city for the cost of a couple dollars per trip. However, foreigners in the country (like me), had to negotiate an exorbitant price down to the local market price. It could take longer to negotiate a fair price, than the journey itself.
Once when finding a taxi to take me to meet our team across the city, I began the long and theatrical negotiation process to get a fair price for the journey. When I no longer had the patience and time to negotiate the price lower, I accepted and jumped into the back seat of the taxi. I was perplexed to hear the cab driver yelling at me to get out. I couldn’t understand why until he stood behind his “petit taxi” and yelled, “Help push!” In shocked disbelief, I and the driver had to push his taxi for a half block to get it started, and we both quickly jumped in, and off we went.
I have learned to only take taxis that have their engines running.
Something similar ever happen to you? Contact me and let me hear your story!
mattsmishaps@gmail.com Matt’s Mishaps, PO BOX 114, Grabill, IN 46741
