As a visually impaired person, I don’t drive. It’s not that I CAN’T drive but more so that I don’t like to. The first and last time I drove I remember not enjoying it. The amount of speed bumps was maddening. It also did not help that each time I went over one I heard the distinct sound of a person or child screaming in agony. Though annoyed, I was very impressed with Thimphu Thromde (municipality) for having spared no expense in procuring the latest in traffic safety technology. Wouldn’t you be more alert if you heard the screams of pedestrians every time you drove over a speed bump? However, in a rather strange coincidence, that day saw a high number of hit and run cases. Some people just shouldn’t drive!
It’s no secret that Bhutan holds a special place on the world stage – ‘The Last Shangri-la’ ‘The Only Carbon-Negative Country’ ‘The Birthplace of GNH’ ‘ ‘The Country on it’s way to boasting the highest number of immigrants in Australia’ – and so on and so forth. Yes, there are many things that make Bhutan stand out but there is also so much that makes us the same as the rest of our global brethren. Such as the fact that everyone who owns a car here believes that they are, indisputably, the best driver and it’s those other useless, inconsiderate mules behind the wheel who need to have their licenses revoked for cutting them off at the roundabout. Like the rest of the world, Bhutanese, despite all our Buddhist compassion and tolerance, are some of the foulest perpetrators of road rage and most, if not all of it, is lobbed at our taxi drivers. And rightly so.
“Aums and Lams” is a phrase used often with regard to a bad driver or someone who is not following traffic protocol. You can be certain that such a driver is either a woman (Aum) or a monk (Lam) And if it’s neither then you can assume the driver is drunk but ‘Aums, Lams and Chhangzeys (drunks)’ doesn’t have the same ring to it. The more sensitive among you will probably deem such a phrase as sexist because being a woman of course does not make you a bad driver and bad drivers are bad regardless of what’s between their legs. The phrase is purely meant more in jest than anything else.
On a side note, monks owning and driving vehicles have always baffled me. I don’t think there is anything wrong with it but growing up I learned that strict practitioners of Buddhism were meant to renounce all material luxuries. I suppose you could still gain enlightenment while revving the engine of your 523 horsepower land cruiser. After all, Guru Rinpoche rode on a flying tigress in one of his manifestations, so a monk driving around shouldn’t be all that bad. A flying tigress is way cooler though!
If you ever find yourself in a situation where you can get away from your tour guide and those meticulously planned out itineraries, I implore you to hail a cab and spend some time driving around with no particular destination in mind. I could probably get in trouble for even suggesting this but I think you truly get an idea of who Bhutanese people are by simply talking with a taxi driver. It’s not too difficult to identify a taxi, simply look for a large metallic box with four wheels, two on either side, bearing a bright yellow sign on top that reads ‘Taxi’. You can’t miss it. Unless you are visually impaired like me in which case you just flag down every vehicle that passes by and apologize to everyone that isn’t a taxi until you get the right one.
Bhutanese taxi drivers are a different breed – capable of interesting conversation while simultaneously flinging expletives and inappropriate comments at other drivers and any unfortunate pedestrians. I once rode in a taxi, which made an illegal U-turn in the middle of a busy street and collided with another taxi. Both drivers proceeded to give each other a vigorous tongue-lashing until a passerby asked them to solve the matter later instead of creating any more drama. As we continued on our way, my cabbie looked over at me and nonchalantly said “Useless, he drives like a woman. So sir, what do you do?” Despite his clearly sexist remark I was more taken aback by his follow-up. I told him I was thankful that I wasn’t a woman in that particular situation.
During another taxi excursion the driver proceeded to speak to me in English, believing I was a Japanese tourist. But when I told him that I was Bhutanese he began complimenting my skin, my features, and not going to lie, I was having a horrible day so those kind words were a great pick-me-up. But then he ruined it by saying he was tempted to kiss me. Needless to say, I stopped the vehicle right there, paid the man and walked the rest of the way home. Now that I think of it, I could have gotten a free ride if I had just kissed the man.
In spite of these incidents, I still believe that Bhutanese taxi drivers are some of the best people to converse with. Even if they can’t speak English fluently they will make the effort. They are horrible drivers with a bloated sense of pride in their own driving. They will stop in the middle of the road without indicating or showing any regard for other drivers and yes, sometimes you may encounter one who says he would like to kiss you in which case your best option is to do as I did but those kinds are few and far between.
Some drivers reek of alcohol, others will play their music obnoxiously loud and most of them will have doma-stained lips and they will offer you some – doma, not the lips except in the case of the earlier driver. And despite all of these “flaws” they will happily converse with you throughout the ride. Some may need a little coaxing but I have yet to meet a taxi driver incapable of holding a conversation.
At the taxi stand they will fight over who gets to take you, which does make you feel a little special. They will tell you about their lives and their families or they’ll proudly declare that they have a wife in every district (for the record, we have 20 districts in Bhutan) so they never have to pay for hotels during long trips. Others will be related to you through some convoluted web of uncles, aunts and cousins in laws – probably not if you are a foreigner but if it is the case then you probably should ask your parents what REALLY happened during their last trip to Bhutan.
It feels nice to be noticed, to be heard, to know that this stranger feels comfortable to confide in you and I imagine it feels nice for them too. To be heard and treated like someone who isn’t just driving you around to make ends meet. Or maybe I am just giving this entire experience more meaning than its worth. Anyway, after your drive and chat, when you reach where you are going, your cabbie will overcharge you and when you protest they will smile and sheepishly say “Amchi ra een, la” (it’s always been this much) and you will begrudgingly pay them even though you know you are being swindled.
I love Bhutanese taxi drivers. They are rough and dependable much like the roads they drive on. On a final note, if taxi drivers and women were such bad drivers, then would you get in a taxi with a female driver?
Kinley Phyntso
He is a freelance writer who enjoys comedy, music and comedic music. Currently racked with existential dread, he also likes long walks and talking people’s ears off.
