Shanghai Yummy

First, the World Cup update: I'm now 3 for 4 on predictions in the first round, as a hard-fought Ireland-Spain match ended in a 3:2 margin on the penalty kick shootout in favor of Spain. However, I called not only the winner, but the exact score and even the golden goal victory for Senegal. I'll be cheering for the Red, White, and Blue this afternoon, but it's going to be a very, very tough game to win.

Okay, on to the main topic, which is taxis.

A little background on the makeup of vehicular traffic in Shanghai first, though... Greater than 50% of all vehicles on Shanghai's streets are variants of the Volkswagen Santana. Those of you who are crinkling your eyebrows right now thinking, "VW Santana? What is that, a car that plays guitar?" just need to think of a 1980's Japanese-import sedan and you have the picture. Say, a Toyota Cressida. Now the VW Santana is not a bad car, per se, I mean it does its job, right? And as long as you take care of it, I imagine it would give you years and years of blissful fahrfegnugen. Literally 3 in 4 cars, AT LEAST, on the street here are either the standard VW Santana, or the new and improved Santana 2000, or S2K to the nouveau chic elite.

The reason this bit of background is important is because the vast majority of cabs in Shanghai are either Santanas or S2Ks. Also, because most people in Shanghai do not own a car of their own, the vast majority of traffic on the streets are, in fact, taxis. The plus side of this is that you can be just about anywhere in the city limits and hail a cab within seconds of needing one. The downside is that I submit to you that this contributes significantly to the pollution and horrible traffic of this city.

So let's run through a typical cab ride.

You step out of the office/house/club/disco/whatever and begin walking toward the curb. Before you even get to within ten feet of the curb, cabbies have slowed down and are eyeing you like pirhanas circling the kill. You begin to raise your hand from your side to actually hail one, but before your hand gets level with your shoulder, a Santana screeches to a halt before you. You step up, pull the door handle, and after a couple of tries the door opens and you step inside.

Most cabs are actually rather clean, and the seats are usually wrapped in a fabric seat cover. In the summer, they usually put on the AC, which is good. In any case, you're now sitting in the back seat of the cab. If you're Shanghainese, you're in the front seat even if there are no other passengers with you. Hey, to each their own. Anyway, the driver looks back at you and you tell him where you're going. And if you don't want to get ripped off, you tell him how to get there too. Actually, most of the time cabbies are pretty honest and take a direct route. The good ones even help you neogtiate a better route through traffic during rush hour. And then there are the just plain idiots who don't know where they're going and even though I've only been here for a couple of months I know the streets better than them, but that's true in any city.

Once he starts on the way, he flips the "For Hire" sign down on the dashboard, and a receipt printer goes for a few seconds to record the time and whatnot. A recording of a female voice will say something ridiculous like, "Welcome to Da Zhong taxi, I wish you the best journey possible with all my heart." And you're on your way. At this point, you can read the little notice stuck to the plastic shield that separates the driver from the rest of the cab... and on all of them it will say something like, "please fasten your seat belt for your safety." So you reach behind you, in search of this "seat belt" and find nothing. Right.

After a while, you notice that each taxi driver actually has a "Shanghai Taxi Service Drivers'" I don't know whether they ran out of room for the word "License" or what... but the important thing here is that this little placard on the dashboard of every cab tells you how much peril your life is in at the moment. The cabbies are all given a number, sequentially from when they got their licenses, I presume. They're up to something like 230000 now. So first thing is that if you've got a relatively low numbered cabbie, he's at least lived that much longer and you might have some hope. Second, under the number, you'll sometimes find stars. Stars are a good thing. Apparently, they get the first two by not running anyone over in a given period of time, and not getting caught by the police doing what every cab does all the time anyway, which is break all the traffic laws. So if your guy has two stars, you know at least he's got some experience and has enough common sense not to get busted. I hear to get the third star you have to take some test (I'd like to think you have to take a test to get the "Shanghai Taxi Service Drivers'" anyway, but who knows? Four stars and five stars are a pretty rare thing, and i've only ever been in a 4 star cab like once or twice, and I've only seen a five star cab, but didn't get in. The other thing is, 3 star and up cabs get to advertise this fact with a lighted placard behind their rearview mirror, so you can see their starage before you hail them if you're good. The four star cabs are really a bit nicer. Same car, but you can tell the dude takes care of it and everything is clean and tidy, including his own appearance. Oh and you've probably noticed that I've generalized with the "he" thing that all cabbies are guys. Well, it's true. I've been in like ONE cab in China driven by a woman. Why this is, I don't know, but this is the way it is for better or worse.

Okay, so let's say you're going along toward your destination merrily, and just when you relax and start letting your mind wander, the cab swerves mightily and tires screech. Yes, another stupid bicyclist has run a red directly into the path of your cab. Now I have absolutely nothing against bicyclists. In fact, I think one thing America lacks severely are bike paths and bike lanes on the roads. However, in China, bicyclists routinely pay no attention to traffic laws, and frequently ingore traffic around them. Anyhow, disaster is avoided this time, but before you start back on your way, the cabbie feels the overwhelming compulsion to hurl insults out the window at this foolish soul. Insult hurling is always done in Shanghainese.

Well, eventually, you're back on the way, and before rolling the window back up, the driver will probably spit outside. No biggie, as I've mentioned before, because hey, it's like breathing, right?

Somehow, you make it to your destination and at this point you pay the cabbie. Most fares are about US$2-3. If you've gone a really frickin' long way, you're out like US$5. You can get the receipt too, which is nice, because it tells you how far you've gone and how much of your life you just wasted sitting in traffic... You get out, making sure that you didn't leave your cell phone in the cab, and go about your business. All's well that ends well.