TAXIS

I never really understood the taxi system, even after reading about it on the net and trying to use it every day for 8 days. There always seemed to be a driver in the lobby of the Melia Hotel, one hanging out at Lucy’s Pub, and some in the lobby of Hotel 2000. All were young men and drove newer, well kept cars. The Melia driver expected and demanded a minimum 20,000 fare no matter how short a distance. By contrast, I noticed that the girls paid just 5,000 for short to medium distance rides. Lucy’s and Hotel 2000 drivers easily accepted 10,000 for the short rides, I never tried to give them less.

The first day in Batam I tried to find a taxi in front of Melia to take me around town and show me the “sights”,the booking clubs. They said 35,000 per hour, which seemed a bit high but not out of sight. Then they said there was a three hour minimum. I was having none of that. What I had in mind would not even take one hour. I walked down to the street, and realized I was totally out my element, totally lost, had no idea how to find a taxi, who to trust, what sort of vehicles I should not enter, what sort of scams I might be subjected to, etc. etc. I was being careful to the point of being paranoid. I went back to the hotel lobby and contemplated my situation. Then I tried once again to negotiate with the hotel taxi. Turned out the first hotel taxi had just left, and another driver was there. I did not want the 3 hour minimum thing, but at least he offered to call his “friend” on his cell phone, who spoke better English. The friend showed up 10 minutes later, and spoke English no better than the first guy. Somehow we got it figured out that I was looking for a booking place. The first taxi guy was much more animated when he heard us talking about booking places, and highly recommended Queens Bee, Louis 15(?), and Mutiara, repeating “young, cute, young, cute”. My taxi guy seemed to know Queens Bee, and we finally agreed on 40,000 for round trip, and he would wait for me at Queens Bee. I knew I was getting a bad price, but was anxious to get going, and felt like I had no alternatives.

Whenever a girl was in the taxi with me, they always gave less than half of what the drivers demanded from me, and the drivers never said a word to the girls.

A few taxis had that taxi light on top, but most did not. None used meters. In 8 days, I only rode in one taxi that had a dispatch radio. There is no way to tell what cars are taxis, and which are not. But I soon realized it did not matter. I was constantly solicited by cars of all types, new, old, dirty, clean, ugly, stylish. It was amazing to me that I could stand on the corner and have four or five consecutive cars, all in a row, one right behind the other, stop ask me if I wanted a ride. A few taxis were nicer new cars, but most were old and very poorly maintained. Window handles and door handles were missing more often than not. Tinted plastic coverings on the windows were peeling off. The seats nearly always had holes and cigarette burns. The whole car was basically a mess.

I remember one incident in particular. I was with my last girl. We went to the street to find a taxi. A particularly decrepit car stopped and solicited us. The car was old, had many dings, several places painted with primer, the interior was badly worn, the seats had long gashes in them, no door handles or window handles, peeling tint covers on the windows, even the interior door covers were literally falling off. The driver looked as old and decrepit as the car. I would have never considered entering this vehicle, yet my companion just jumped right in. When I hesitated she gave me that “come on don’t worry” smile that endeared me to her. Surprising myself at how much I trusted her considering I barely knew her, I jumped in. She gave the driver instructions and we were off. The guy drove us where we wanted to go, waited for us to shop, drove us to an outdoor market, waited again, then returned us to the hotel, about 90 minutes in all. The girl gave him 10,000, he smiled and drove off. He was polite, rarely talked, made no rude comments or disapproving looks to me or my girl, was pretty much a very professional, unobtrusive driver, completely the opposite the first impression he and his car made.

A few taxi drivers made a wolfish, shit-eating grin at either me or my girl when we got in. My girls never said anything, but were clearly put off by the guy’s rudeness, and were pretty curt when telling him where to go and when paying and exiting. Only once did a driver try to hit up my girl for more money. She had given him 5,000 for a short ride. She tried to wave him off, but he was persistent. She took a 500 and a 100 note (less than ten cents!) from my wad, crumpled them up, put them in the drivers hand and walked away without even looking over her shoulder. I was afraid the driver would follow us, but he did not. This little 18 year old girl had way more street smarts than her 50 year old “worldly” companion!

I never got used to constantly haggling over taxi prices. It was always stressful for me. I did not like being constantly overcharged and hassled. I felt like a victim, like I was being taken advantage of.

If I ever go again, I will just accept the situation that white tourists pay at least twice the going rate, and not worry about it. It was just one of many little hassles that kept me from really having a good time in Batam.