This Really Happened
Last night, woozy and tired after my long day at the office and then teaching at night (yes, the midterms did get graded somehow, and returned), I briefly considered taking the subway home and then gave in to my too frequent indulgence of taking a cab home from where I teach--about 25 minutes and not inexpensive. But it makes me happy, usually, speeding down the FDR Drive alongside the river, the two bridges looming up so solidly and suddenly, the ride so familiar to me that I get lost in my thoughts, forget, have we crossed the bridge or not, no, we're still in Manhattan, here we go, here's the beautiful Brooklyn Bridge, there's the water, there's the sky, it's dark out but the lights of the bridges and the city are shining.
My cab driver last night was from Haiti. I know this because I caught some words of the lovely island music he was playing, some words in French, something about "les hatiennes" (my spelling, probably not correct). He was not a talkative driver, but he liked singing. When there was a chorus or a chirpy instrumental refrain he would sing along, or imitate the sound of the instrument. At one point, I commented, rather obviously, "You like singing!" but I wasn't sure if he heard me.
When we got closer to my neighborhood, he said, "Where exactly are you going?" I told him my street and suggested where he might make a right and then a left to get there. He said resolutely, as if I had proposed a a major life change to him, "I'll do it!" Then, nothing more until we pulled up in front of my house. I sighed because I was tired. Then he said, "I'll miss you." I was a little nonplussed, but I said, "Well, I'll miss you too." He said, "Yes, and my music." I paid the fare, and said, "Maybe we'll meet again someday." "Yes," he said.
As I got out of the cab, I thought, hurriedly, how do you say good night in French? I'm much more familiar with Spanish and I couldn't find anything French in my head at all at first, but I wanted to say it, I thought, what is it, bon nuit, no, that's not what you would say, I felt the words shuffling in my head, almost as if they were on one of those old-fashioned railway station boards. Then it came to me. "Bon soir," I said, as I lugged my heavy backpack after me out of the cab.
"Bon soir," said the driver, and pulled away.
My cab driver last night was from Haiti. I know this because I caught some words of the lovely island music he was playing, some words in French, something about "les hatiennes" (my spelling, probably not correct). He was not a talkative driver, but he liked singing. When there was a chorus or a chirpy instrumental refrain he would sing along, or imitate the sound of the instrument. At one point, I commented, rather obviously, "You like singing!" but I wasn't sure if he heard me.
When we got closer to my neighborhood, he said, "Where exactly are you going?" I told him my street and suggested where he might make a right and then a left to get there. He said resolutely, as if I had proposed a a major life change to him, "I'll do it!" Then, nothing more until we pulled up in front of my house. I sighed because I was tired. Then he said, "I'll miss you." I was a little nonplussed, but I said, "Well, I'll miss you too." He said, "Yes, and my music." I paid the fare, and said, "Maybe we'll meet again someday." "Yes," he said.
As I got out of the cab, I thought, hurriedly, how do you say good night in French? I'm much more familiar with Spanish and I couldn't find anything French in my head at all at first, but I wanted to say it, I thought, what is it, bon nuit, no, that's not what you would say, I felt the words shuffling in my head, almost as if they were on one of those old-fashioned railway station boards. Then it came to me. "Bon soir," I said, as I lugged my heavy backpack after me out of the cab.
"Bon soir," said the driver, and pulled away.
posted by Sarah Sometimes at 11:24 PM
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