Leaving Yangon and the Taxi driver-part 1


I am in a bus. And even coming to the station gives me a story. I share a taxi with a couple from Spain. They are great. I steal seat in front and the taxi driver can speak some good English . And what a story under my interview. Takes more than 1.5 our the ride to the bus like place.
First he teaches us more sentences in Burmese. And he can say things in Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Greek, Thai, Indonesian. I ask him why and he tells me he used to work in a ship.
I am amazed. He has been everywhere. In every country the ship stayed 4 days to 2 weeks. So he saw a lot. I asked him why he had stopped.
“I am old. 50.”
He tells me his wife is in hospital and shows me her picture. He shows me his daughters. I show him myself in hospital, André, my parents and my grandma. 
I ask him what is the red thing I see in men teeth. He shows me it is tobacco they chew. “It is not healthy.” They are green leaves and he chews to show me it becomes green and makes you awake. 
I ask him how he started that job in a ship and he tells me he worked for the government. His father also did and told him to leave and take the ship. I was amazed and ask. ” The Junta?”
And yes. And he is in his 70. I ask if misses the ship. And he eventually tells me he does not at all.
” I own this taxi. I decide when I work. When I stop. No one is my boss. I am free. I don’t have to be doing what someone else tells me I need to do. Do you understand?”
Dear lord. How much I understand. We speak so much that as I leave to take the bus I forget to pay the taxi. 10 thousand. I had gotten 7 thousand from the Spaniards. I ran to find him.
When I see him he asks me whether I had forgotten something. 
” I forgot to pay you!”
” Oh. I forgot that too.”
I pay him and come to the bus. As I finish this lines we start the ride. What a country. Ah an he teaches me bikes are allowed. It is motorbikes that are not 🙂

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