Dankie Driver!

I obviously romantised being back home in Joburg. It's the first week and just like any good romance, it comes with some bit of grinding... Some heart-core stuff.

A few weeks ago, I got involved in a car accident (in Cape Town), got rear-ended by a car coming too close behind me - partly my fault for not giving him enough time to see I had indicated to turn. Anyway, the car's a write-off...

I've had to go back to basics. As I write this, I'm sitting in a taxi (minibus) from Alexandra to President Park, Midrand (via Ebony Park) listening to the taxi driver ranting to a friend about how unappreciated taxi drivers are. He says that he finds it quite ironic that taxis should be underrated, given that a whole nation of nurses, police, teachers, employed, unemployed etc. all make use of the taxi service. He has an incredibly valid point.

Being in a taxi does feel like being in a whole nation... A nation wrapped up in the problems of the day/ life. All around I can feel the heaviness. Driving home this heavy nation must be quite daunting. And to be treated like the scum of society (taxi drivers are seen as rude/obnoxious/ignorant in South Africa - perhaps even the world round), could leave one feeling rather indignant. I can only imagine.

Given that I live in the outskirts, I had to take a cab (meter taxi) from the plush Sandton to the taxi rank. I met up with Lucky, a cab driver I met a while back. Our meeting several months ago was brief, he's taken me home from Sandton for just R180 (reasonable for Jozi rates). I remember our initial conversation clearly. I asked him about his dreams/passions. He told me he dreamt of being a race car driver and has a passion for VERY fast cars. He rated the Honda V-tec highly, a car I'd also grown to appreciate from a distance. Lucky had the misfortune (excuse the pun) of getting involved in an accident as a race car driver back in the day - while driving a V-tec (came out unharmed). He hasn't raced since but hasn't lost a grip on his dreams as he navigates the sharp bends of life.

As I walk the short distance home (still mobile blogging), I get interrupted by a community businessman (owns a container of public phones. He asks me what happened to my car and shares a beautiful line with me: 'Thank God for life. You can fix a car but you can't fix a life (that's gone).' Amen to that!

And thank God for the beautiful strangers who care to share their inspiring stories of indignation and hope.

I'm not sure when I'll find myself behind a steering wheel again; but right now I feel like I have full control of my life/missions/destiny - sharp bends withstanding. Moving forward (like the slogan of a local bank)!

I'll leave it at 'Dankie Driver'. Til the next stop.

Sent via my BlackBerry from Vodacom!