The woman in the spa’s reception area was in quite a state.
Her taxi driver had pulled up onto the pavement outside the large front window and was leaning against the car with his arms folded and a murderous expression on his face.
There’d been a dispute about the fare, she explained to the receptionist.
There was 7,500 on the meter, and she gave him a 10,000 note. He gave it back, and wanted more. She handed it to him again, but he balled it up and threw it at her, at which point she fled into the spa.
The receptionist suggested that 15,000 might solve the problem. The woman wasn’t convinced. Eventually the receptionist went outside to talk to the driver and try to reach a compromise (Bali is a famously peaceable country), but without success.
Finally the driver got back into his taxi, gunned the motor furiously, and reversed at full speed, barely missing a couple of Japanese girls who were walking on the pavement in front of the salon. They ran. He pulled forward a few metres and tried a second time. They scattered, he missed again, and then (apparently deciding not to crash through the plate glass window) roared away.
The Constant Companion and I watched and listened as the drama unfolded — we didn’t have much choice –- and pondered the meaning of it all.
•The woman said she’d hailed the taxi at the top of the road, about 200 metres away. She was young and fit, and she said she was a local resident, so she would have known it was a gentle two-and-a-half-minute walk. (Yes, I timed it.)
•The amount on the meter was equivalent to about 75 U.S. cents. She’d given the driver about one U.S. dollar. The receptionist’s suggested compromise was $1.50.
•Two utterly terrified young tourists, who were innocent bystanders, could have been badly injured — or worse – for the sake of less than a dollar.
Here’s some advice. If you’re a tourist, have the common sense to understand the local currency so you don’t find yourself in a life-or-death bargaining session over a few cents off the price of a souvenir (yes, we’ve seen it happen a hundred times). It’s just plain undignified.
And if you’re an expat, don’t be an idiot. No matter how long you’ve lived there, the locals won’t give you locals’ prices, and you shouldn’t expect them to. Show some generosity.
OK, the cabbie was a psycho. But drivers in countries like this often work 18-hour days to support their families for just a few dollars a day. You can afford it, so give him $2, or even $4, and make him a happy man.
Or, of course, you could always walk.