Fredster is hot.
When she’s near, the New Year’s here, and there is not a resolution that I can’t do.
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Felicien the cab driver.
Today, I met Felicien.
I’ve mainly been using cabs to get around Cape Town. After paying the cab fares from Midtown to Park Slope, I’ve become jaded to overpriced cabs–as far as I’m concerned, they are just another overpriced, necessary, evil (and occasionally very convenient) method of public transportation. Over here, it’s 10 ZAR per km after the 2 ZAR initial fee.
During these trips, you get to meet really interesting people. Like New York, a lot of the cab drivers are foreign. Felicien is one of them. He’s a refugee from the DRC. He’s been in South Africa for about 8 years, but only spent the last 6 months in Cape Town. His cab is kinda crappy. There’s no sugarcoating it. It was an older foreign model–I’d guess early 90s or so. The inside was dingy and it smelt like cigarette smoke. Still, Felicien works 24/7. Literally. He’s always on call. In fact, during our ride, he put our lively conversation on hold so he could figure out where his next client was. He says its necessary to work that much in order to support his family.
It’s going to be along 8 weeks.
I always figured traveling to Africa would get easier.
I mean, what’s the big deal? At some point, things just have to get easier, right? Especially considering how cushy this trip is compared to the last two. I’m practically staying in a resort with my own personal garden. I take warm showers in a bathroom equipped with towel warmers. There’s underfloor heating here–a rarity in Cape Town. Heck, I even have internet every now and then.
I have, however, been known to be wrong from time to time and I can confidently say this is one of those times.
