"One Crazy Sheik"
Trip Start
Jan 13, 2005
1
7
23
Trip End
Apr 28, 2005
Vancouver,
British Columbia,
Canada
Monday, January 17, 2005
Flash back 15 minutes ago: I had just gotten my cage rattled by a dangerously flirtatious customs agent, it was after 11 p.m., and all I wanted was to lay my bags down. My repartee with the aforementioned vixen caused me to be the last to the baggage claim. I arrived just in time to prevent them from loading my bags and hauling them to God-knows-where in the northern tundra. I stood my bags up and looked for the nearest exit. Keeeeeeer-phwump! Right on cue. I picked up my baggage again and made my way for the most logical exit.
I put on my jacket. Keeeeeer-phwump! I picked up my bags again, headed outside and saw the only taxi available; the one carrying my current driver, one crazy sheik.
He opened the trunk and before he could maneuver his robust form out of the front seat I had loaded them all in myself. He was mumbling something in his thick Indian accent.
So, flash forward, here we find me praying. 'Don't let me get screwed. Don't let me get screwed.' Tick: $4.50. Long silence. Tick: $5.50. Long silence.
"So, yong mahn. You vant to get to de Lahndmark. Vhere ees dis place?"
'Dear, God...!'
"Oh, jyes. I vremember. Jyes."
Tick: $7.25. Long silence.
"So, yong mahn. Vhere are you from?"
"Florida." Remembering my problems at the customs desk, I correct myself. "United States. I am from the United States." Tick: $9.00.
"Vhat are you doing ere een Vahncouver?"
"I am studying with Semester-At-Sea."
"Vhat ees dis Shemehstere-Aht-Sea?"
"It is school. On a cruise ship. I am studying college on a cruise ship." I stare outside and wonder if all people in Canada drive this slow or if this is what kilometers per hour does to drivers here. 'Who takes this place seriously anyhow?' Tick: $12.75. The black night blankets the city. The only things I can make out are the lights that fade in the mist in the hills across the bay. Tick: $15.
"Vhat are you studying, yong mahn?"
"International Marketing. I would like to minor in religious studies, if possible."
"Vreally?!" he suddenly exclaims. "I studied religion myself, yong mahn! I have a doctorate in dis! Eet es my passhon to understahnd Godh and hyis people."
"Really?"
"Oh, jyes! I tell you, yong man," he started excitedly. His round belly jiggled as he squirmed in his chair. He was obviously passionate about this topic. His white turban brushed the roof of the taxi as he kept on. "Dere needs to be more love, jyes? Afdere all, does not Jesus even say dat vhe are to love vone anoder?! Jyes ee does."
Each time the crazy sheik said the word 'love' and 'jyes' his tight white beard shook with a jiggle, as if he were chuckling with delight.
"Da Buddha vanted all to love each other, jyes. Kindess vas his teaching, and dat takes love. Jyes. Yong man, you need to tell dem, jyes, dat dey need to love more. Dey need to trow avay de greed, and the burahcrahcy, jyes. Dey need to trow avay dere mindsets dat close people to godh. Tell dem to act vith visdom about de feenahnces. I vonce vent to speak wit de rabbi. Ohll ee could tell me vas vhy I vas going to de hell. Vhat ees dat? Vho sheys dees tings? Dat does noting for de godh. Shejus even said to dem dat dey vill know dem by deir love. De indu mahn, de jew, de Christeahn mahn, de Buddhist mahn, de all need Godh. Tell dem about de vone true Godh, about hees love for dem, and you will be doing de good ting, jyes. Ere ve are!"
The sound of brakes broke the spell of intrigue that propped my mouth wide. Brakes sounded and he was out of the car in a flash. Before I got my senses, my door was opened and the man ushered me out of the car.
"Now remember, yong man." I handed him the fare and tip. "Remember, tell dem of de love. Jyes." He climbed back in his car. Keeeeeer-phwump!
"Wait," I yelled. "What is your faith?"
"I, yong man," here he chuckled, "am de sheik."
