Sathfilms

I was in Los Angeles early last year, and I remember the greatly contrasting attitudes of two cab-drivers I was lucky enough to meet. Strangely enough, I had the same cab-driver for most of my time in LA. He must have been watching out for me (the chump) every morning, knowing that he’d get a decent fare and that he could suggest a place in LA, even if it was quite out of the way, and I’d check it out. I liked LA quite a bit. I spent my time in the nicer areas so I didn’t get a complete impression of the place, but I did like the areas I frequented. Regardless of that, this cab-driver that was taking me around the place probably improved my opinion of LA simply because he seemed to love place, and in fact, he even said so. He told me how happy he was that he moved to LA, and he told me that he would never want to live anywhere else. So, considering that I want to move to LA for a bit, I found his enthusiasm for the place quite contagious. I mean, I wanted and want to live in LA for a couple of years, and I was becoming increasingly optimistic of having a decent time while living in the city. 

However, on my last day in LA I was picked up by a different cab-driver. This guy was quite aggressive and abrasive compared to the jolly articulate cab-driver who had driven me around before; nonetheless he was nice enough I suppose, but I could tell he was pissed off at something. It was quite evident that he was pissed off from the combination of him being extremely silent with me, extremely loud and rude to other drivers (he called them monkies) and just the general angry grimace on his face. Perhaps the man was just like that, however ultimately I was right, and he was pissed off.

At some point in our relatively short journey from West Hollywood to LA international airport I made the mistake of pointing out a cool looking building and inadvertently asking what it was. The cab-driver didn’t answer my question, which was more me think out aloud rather than asking him. Instead he asked me, “where you from? India?” I told him that I was from Australia to which he grunted in acknowledgement making a comment about my accent and that it wasn’t American or Indian. It was at this point my suspicion of him being pissed off was confirmed: he decided to give me a few tips. “You look young, and I’ll tel you something…” firstly he told me to go back to Australia and to never come back to America and the he also told me to never have kids. I was unsure whether I should have been offended or not, but he went on, and it became quite clear that his attack was not directed at me personally but he was just pissed off with his circumstances. He said he moved to America from Bulgaria for the children he was planning to have. He let me know that America is a “piece of shit” and that, to paraphrase his remarks, LA is a festering cesspool that is a concentration of the horrible country. He explained that the selfishness he saw in the driving attitude of LA drivers reflected the attitude of the people that lived in the city and the rest of the country - and he kept calling such people, “monkies”.

He then went on to explain problems he was having with his son who wasn’t working enough to be self-sufficient, and moreover was in gambling debt after the father had bailed him out of debt numerous times already. The cab-driver said that he told his son that he wasn’t going to pay for the gambling any more, but his (the cab-driver’s) wife started secretly giving the son money. So, on top of all the hatred he already had for America, the cab-driver was further pissed off with a country that had let his child become such a useless member of society. So all his (limited) spare money was going towards paying his son’s debts and so on; and he already worked long hours.

So, there I was, a niave 21-year-old from Melbourne on his first visit to LA, listening to all this; my entire impression of LA dissapointedly reducing by the minute along with my slightly optimistic view of the future. And, without thinking at all, I merely managed to ask him why he didn’t go back to where he came from if he hated America so much. I thought he’d say that back “home” was worse or something, but instead he just told me that he couldn’t literally afford to go home and that America had taken every cent he had earned and that he couldn’t imagine a point in time when he’d be able to go home.

I remembered this story since I’m looking at schools in the States (particularly in LA) for 2008 and considering some of the details and potential accomodation and so on. The whole thing scares me: from the applications and admissions to the city and the culture. I’m even sort of scared of getting accepted into some of the courses. Nonetheless, I still want to go overseas and see what happens! But I’m still allowed to get scared and ask if I have what it takes, right?