"Taxi, do you need a TAXI!!" This had quickly become a phrase that we had become used to while walking around Peru. There was no hiding our foreign roots here. I, being six-foot-two was decidedly above all other heads, and with me, Chris was a very Asian looking guy- together we felt like we stood out like sore thumbs. Especially on this last flight from Lima to Pucallpa there was a lack of tourists as there was going to Lima itself.
"Taxi!!! Sir, you want a taxi!!" At this Chris or I would politely say No then proceed on.
"TAXI, Please!!!"
This stunned us as we had not met any taxi driver so persistent to beg. But then the Peruvian man began to yank Chris and pull the luggage away.
We landed in this airport very unsure of ourselves- unsure of why we were here, unsure of what to expect, and more importantly at the moment, uncertain if anyone knew we were here to pick us up. It was dark out, and we were in a foreign country where no one spoke english. We thought that our best bet was to try to call the Doctor in charge of Touche De Amor to see if he could come pick us up. We were scared to call him as we knew that he only spoke Spanish and we did not want to feel incompetent once again failing at conversing in Spanish. Still, we thought we would at least try on the pay phones that we were already at, besides it was better than spending the night in another airport. And the last thing we wanted to do was to take a chance with a taxi driver and get lost in the darkness of this small town.
"Come Taxi!!! PLEASE!!!"
This guy wouldn't leave us alone, all we wanted to do was to figure out the pay phone. He was jerking Chris around harassing us trying to take our luggage cart. We tried ignoring him to no avail. Now we were getting agitated.
"Come Taxi! You Chris???"
Chris froze. How could he possibly know his name. He didn't have his name written anywhere. I began to freak out, maybe this taxi driver was so desperate he grabbed Chris' Passport for ransom of a taxi service. The look of confusion and scared, he suddenly burst out laughing, "I Joke!! I am Doctor Matthews!!!"
Hearing this we felt a little embarrassed, but definitely relieved. We tried to laugh along as he showed us his truck and told us to throw in the luggage.
The speed limit read 35km/hr. The Spedometer read 115km/hr. It was an interesting ride adjusting to the customs of the road here. As oncoming cars passed in the night along the one straight road into the darkness, they would flash their hi-beams at just the right second to blind. Zooming around many other cars and motorcycles the 38Km journey was rapidly ended with a dirt road up to large wooden cabin and what would soon become our new home.
