I wanted
to take a moment and explain our trip from Karachi to Hyderabad in a
bit more detail. An hour after finally getting McDonalds at the
Airport, Megan and I were ready to head out. It was 6 am and the day
was about to begin. So we headed off to the taxi stands. Terry had
told us that we needed to get either a Metro Radio Cab or a White Top
Cab. As we approached the booths a fellow came up and asked if we
needed a cab. Since I was told by Terry not to take any random cab, I
tried to ignore the fellow and went to the White cab’s window and
asked how much it would be. The reply was 5500 Rps. This was way over
the 3700 Rps that Terry had told us it would be, so I went to Metro
Cab, and they as well were well above the price Terry gave, priced at
5250 Rps. The fellow kept pestering me saying he could do it for 4000
Rps. Liking his price I told him that if he let me use his cell phone
I would think about it. He leant me the cell phone so I called Terry
and told him the situation. Terry again advised me not to just take
any cab, but get an official cab from one of the legit businesses
regardless of how much the cost was. As I was talking to Terry I did
notice that the fellow had bloodshot eyes and may not be the best
choice. Hanging up the phone I politely told the fellow that I was
told not to use his services, but offered to pay for the use of his
phone. He blew me off and left. I went back to the Metro Cab and
asked why it was so expensive they mumbled something about it being a
petrol day and not a CNG day. I had no idea what this meant, but I
told him we would use their services for no more then 5000. He agreed
on the price and I paid him in advance. Then without warning two men
grabbed our bags and told us to follow them. Megan and I looked at
each other knowing that this also meant that a tip would be expected
from these men who carried our bags, and we had no idea how much was
normal. After we found a cab and loaded the bags in, I did the stupid
thing and asked how much they wanted. The bargaining I did on the cab
price didn’t matter after that. The one guy said 500 Rps each. That
seemed a lot in my mind and I had already given the one guy 100 Rps,
without thinking I gave the other guy 500 Rps, he left happy, but the
guy I gave 100 Rps to started begging for more. Our cab driver had to
tell him to stop begging and he finally left. Good for them, taking
advantage of tired foreigners. I found out later that 20 Rps is
really all one would give them. Regardless, they provided me a
service and for $6 I got my bags carried and put in the taxi. I felt
a bit safer after we climbed into the cab. Less safe after the cabbie
didn’t understand my request for a phone and grabbed the address
out of my hand and said, “I know where this is, it’s all okay.”
At this point I was too tired to try and get a cell phone out of the
guy and just hoped Terry would figure out we had gotten the cab and
were on our way. After thirty minutes of painfully trying to do small
talk, thanks to the cabbies limited english (It helped that Megan had
a limited vocabulary of Urdu), Abi was a sleep and Megan tried to
sleep, so I sat in silence trying to stay awake and alert. All of a
sudden the cab came to a stop and we pulled over to the side of the
road. I did notice that the cabbie was looking at every gas station
we passed and figured it was just out of petrol. He said some words
in Urdu, which I can only imagine were curses. After trying to start
the car a few more times he jumped out. Told us everything was okay
and started pushing the cab down the road. I tried to get out and
help, but he insisted I stay inside, and that he had everything under
control. Luckily for him it was down hill. He was pretty coordinated
too as he was steering and pushing at the same time. I had my foot
ready, close to the break, just in case we needed to stop suddenly.
Fortunately we made it to the gas station that was 500 m behind us.
After we got there, the cabbie jumped in the car again and rummaged
around for piece of paper, mumbling something about a phone number.
Apparently he had no cell phone and was going to ask to use
someone’s, but he had lost the number of the person he was trying
to call. After 10 minutes of searching he finally found it. I was
still unsure why he didn’t just pump some gas into his car. The
cabbie told us not to worry again and ran to the other side of the
lot and started talking to some people. Fifteen minutes later he came
back and told us it would be 15 minutes more. I asked to use the cell
phone he had borrowed, but the cabbie blew me off and said it would
be fine and then left again. At this point I started to imagine the
worse. What if he was calling in some friends to rob us or kidnap us?
It was at this point I stopped carrying how much it would cost to use
my TELUS serviced phone and pulled it out. I tried to text Terry, I
told him where we were, and what we were doing, and hoping that
stalling in the middle of the road was a normal thing in Pakistan. I
got no reply back, and realized after we were in Hyderabad that
because it is a Canadian carrier I had to dial +92 in front of the
number before it would go through. True to his word the cabbie came
back 15 minutes later and tried to start his car again. This time it
worked, “See,” He said, “It is satellite tracker.” I found
out later this was normally installed in cabs to stop theft of the
vehicle. If no phone call is made to extend the distance, the cab
will automatically shut off after it reaches a certain point.
Hyderabad was obviously too far. Why the cabbie didn’t call to
extend the distance before we left is beyond my understanding, but at
least he was able to fix the problem. We started out again, and made
one more stop at a petrol station, which I was happy about seeing as
the cab was on empty. It was nice that Megan could just hold Abi on
her lap as there is no need for car seats in Pakistan; child safety
is the least of their worries. This meant Megan could feed Abi as we
drove and so we were able to keep her happy the whole way to
Hyderabad. Once we reached Hyderabad the cabbie of course had no idea
how to get to Terry and Joanie’s place (our hosts). He had to pull
over and ask a lot of people. Eventually we just got close enough for
Terry to spot us from his roof. He ran down and showed us how to get
the rest of the way. When we stopped Terry quickly questioned our
cabbie to figure out what was going on. The Cabbie explained
everything in Sindhi. Regardless of the way our trip ended up I felt
obligated to tip the cabbie (that and just before we got to the
address he was begging us for money to help him for something). I
gave him 500 Rps, which probably after seeing how much I gave our bag
handlers didn’t seem a lot to him and he still had a frown on his
face. Once the cab driver left Terry explained the
satellite-positioning thing, as well as said he would follow up on
why it cost the 5000 Rps, so much more then quoted. A few days later
he found out that it was because it was a petrol day. It all started
a few years ago when natural gas was promoted as being cleaner, more
efficient, and cheaper then gasoline.
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| Clock Tower Market |
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