Still a Local

Back when we lived in Delhi, I didn’t have to take taxis very often for which I was incredibly grateful. The rule for taxis here is that you either insist they use their meter or negotiate a fare before you leave. The latter was only a good idea if you knew where you going and around how much it should cost so you didn’t get gouged. The former could be tricky because taxi drivers often took the long way thinking you didn’t know better.

It may have been several years since I was technically a local in Delhi but thanks to my taxi training here in Cairo, I have mad taxi negotiating skills. On the rare occasions when I took taxis this summer, it was my job to make sure we got the best price. One night, a large group of us headed out to GK2 for dinner and before we got to the end of the hotel’s driveway, the driver and I had agreed that he would be waiting around to drive us back to the hotel after dinner, would keep the air conditioning on, and wouldn’t overcharge us for either of these services. (That driver would later try to gouge one of my friends in retaliation.)

Most of the time when we were in Delhi this summer, I avoided over-priced taxis and hopped on a three-wheeler to my destination. You may know these conveyances better as tuktuks, auto rickshaws, or death traps. Cheaper and slower than taxis, three-wheelers are how most Delhites get around town. The doorman at our hotel was shocked and vaguely scandalized that I kept leaving to find a three-wheeler rather than asking him to call me a taxi.

More westerners have taken to dressing in Indian clothes like kurtas and salwar kameezes since we lived there so drivers were puzzled for a moment trying to determine if my olive skin, dark hair, and local style of dress marked me as an Indian or a tourist. My lack of Hindi put me in the latter category but my hard-line on haggling definitely marked me as the former. I knew of at least one group of three-wheeler drivers who refused to take me anywhere after I insisted on paying local fares to my touristy destinations.

Although I was beyond glad when my friend Sunnymorn arrived back in town and loaned me her driver to get me to our mutual destinations, I kind of liked getting around town like a local. When we lived there, I never needed to flag down a three-wheeler in the pouring rain or negotiate for a taxi from the mall whilst sweat dripped from all my pores but I honestly felt less like a foreigner doing so this time around.