Upon stepping out of the airport, I walked into a sea of taxi drivers, scrambling to get the attention of tourists. I thought I should save a few bucks and commute by public transportation, but a similar group of drivers were enshrouding the bus stop.
I told them I was going to look around the surrounding shops and did not need a ride immediately. “Make sure you come find me later, remember to find me,” said a driver with a desperate look in his eye.
I ended up forgetting to find that same driver, but the driver I did leave with was not any wealthier. He was not a licensed taxi driver, working from a beat up, grayish-blue Toyota that had no meter.
It must be hard to make ends meet when your pay check is determined by how many tourists come by as you wait by sweltering bus stops day in and day out.
Yet, as we stopped at a red light, the driver rolled down his window and handed money to a beggar! It was the first, but not the last time that I was taken back by the kindness and sincerity of the locals.
