La Vida Idealist

Parked tranquility: a typical Tico taxi in Cusco

During evening rush hour, the experience of traffic in Cusco harkens back to my days of commutes in Los Angeles: tempers flare, the cacophony of ear-piercing car horns pollutes everyone’s sanity, and drivers use dubious maneuvers to inch their ways forward or around the gridlock. As distraction from this claustrophobic chaos is clearly in everyone’s best interest, my cab drivers in Cusco will often solicit me for small talk to pass the time.

It is rare to see a female driver in Cusco, even in a private car, so inevitably my taxi drivers are always male. Should he fall between the ages of eighteen and forty, the predictability of the conversation’s progression is remarkable, and usually plays out in the following way:

The obligatory opening line acknowledges the cold weather overtaking Cusco, to which the respondent agrees that this time of year is, indeed, very cold. After a few more weather-related exclamations, he will usually ask where I’m from. Once a response is procured, the next logical small-talk questions are about, of course, my marital status and whether or not I have children. Talk about getting straight to the point.

If I don’t feel like enshrouding myself in a complex web of lies, there will certainly be further questioning regarding whether I have a Peruvian boyfriend, do I want one, and eventually, “Can I have your number?” The fact that I’m 23 and not thinking about marriage or children often causes confusion.

More recently, I’ve learned to play the good politician and completely ignore the marital inquiry, launching instead into an unrelated topic of my own choosing. I like to pick their brains about their homes and how they came to be taxistas. Some come from cities or towns hours outside of Cusco, but have moved to the city in search of work. Others are students, barely eighteen, who are using their taxi gig to support themselves through college.

Yesterday, I asked my driver if driving around Cusco at this hour didn’t give him anxiety. At this he laughed out loud and grinned widely, then stepped onto the accelerator and swerved briefly into a lane of oncoming traffic. Leaning on his horn to shove his way back into the original line-up, he nearly swiped off the mirror of another taxi, all to gain a position five cars ahead of our previous spot. Classic Cusco.

Kimberly is currently serving as Program Manager for GirlSportWorks, a US-based NGO that seeks to enhance the lives of Peruvian girls through athletics. For more on transportation in Latin America, check out “Day in the Life: Morning Commute“; “An Adventurous Routine“; “Where to Get Off the Bus?“; “Good Travel Karma“; “Traffic Circle from Hell!” and “All-Female Transport in Mexico.”

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