Taxi!

My friends Steve and Ali are the first two people to go home from their year in the Marshall Islands. They are getting on a plane tomorrow and going back to hot water, real coffee and fast Internet.

Oh man, do I feel sorry for them.

The problem is that they are leaving behind the ever-entertaining Marshallese taxi. What are they going to do when they hop in a cab and the driver just takes them where they want to go? Where is the fun in that?

Here you get so much more than a ride. You flag down a cab and the driver is either half-asleep at the wheel or talking excitedly to you about his experience with the American cultural underbelly. Either way you’re riveted.

Then there is always this lady next to you insists on dropping plates of food off at about 35 different houses. At each stop she gets out and pauses to have a word with someone in the front yard and you get to witness first hand how good news and rumors travel so dang fast here.

Plus, the windows of these cabs are so much better than any TV channel you will ever get at home. I zoom by touching scenes of kids playing baseball, swimming or three-legged racing each other down the street. I see lines of kids waiting their turn under the electric razor for a hair cut. I see people playing cards on front steps and the flipper end of a fisherman bringing home his reef catch. I see sunsets gambling their rays out on top of the ocean like a game of dice. I see dogs wrestling each other to the ground and women starting coconut fires.

Then there are also the comedy channels. These are window scenes of kids sucking on rocks and grooving out to the latest Akon rap song. You’re sitting there, laughing your head off, wondering where the heck they get their material. I mean, kids sucking on rocks, who could have come up with that. When the TV stations were hurting for writers they should have just walked around Majuro.

Here’s another great thing about cabs; they are air-conditioned. For fifteen minutes out of your day you get to sit down on a cushy seat and just give your pores a break already. I have been thinking about this; I’ve been sweating for about nine months straight here in this equatorial sun and I don’t know how much longer my glands can hold up.

What’s the warranty policy on these babies?

Then, and here is a real sweet part about taxis, you get a glimpse into the real world! Yes, that’s right, on the most popular radio station in town the BBC splices in ever hour or so to tell you what is happening in the grander scheme of things and you sit back and sigh and know that yes the world is still in fact turning even though you have been caught up in the same summer since last July.

And all of this for a mere 75 cents – how much did your last DVD cost?

I am excited for Steve and Ali to get on with their lives in Boston, but do they realize what they are missing?