Confessions of a taxicab addict

By: Jeff Haxer '07

Posted: 12/5/06

Traveling, as any good consultant will tell you, can be a major hassle. As a former consultant I should have been better prepared for the headaches involved in traveling, but during my recent recruiting adventures, I found that I had forgotten the little things that make traveling a bit easier.

For instance, most people get into a cab, tell their destination to the driver, and never say another word. I know this because when I was on the road as a consultant, I made a point to talk to cab drivers. When I moved to Boston, I found that it's almost impossible to do this in Boston because most of the cabbies are unfriendly and obsessed with breaking as many traffic laws as possible. As I recently found out, however, if you try it in most other cities, you may be in for a treat.

My` interview adventures recently took me to Chicago where I learned some amazing things from a cab driver from Somalia.

Quick, where can you find the largest population of Somalis outside of the Middle East? Don't know? I'll bet that if your not from there, you would never have guessed it's Minneapolis. While Minneapolis may boast more Somalis than any other city in the U.S., several thousand Somalis also call Chicago home. I'll bet you didn't know that the Midwest was a bastion of diversity that Boston and New England cannot even come close to matching; I certainly was taken by surprise.

This particular cabbie wasn't a very good cab driver, as he pulled into the gas station and filled up with the meter running, but he seemed nice enough. As we pulled onto the freeway, I noticed that he was about to fall asleep. Terrified of the oncoming traffic, and used to Boston drivers, I decided I'd keep him awake by talking with him. After a few minutes of small talk, my Midwestern roots began to show: "You're from Somalia?" I asked half surprised that he made it to Chicago, and half stunned that he wasn't gunned down by all of the warring we read about or killed in the famine as portrayed by the American media. He replied affirmatively as his head snapped back from dozing.

Saul was the 25th out of 29 siblings with the same father in a remote part of Somalia. His immediate family consisted of ten boys, nineteen girls, six moms, and one dad. In his own right, he has one wife and two sons that he has not seen in eight years. He called them every other day and sent money back each week. I'd caught him on his 40th day in Chicago (after a recent move from Seattle) and on his 30th straight day of driving a cab. When I asked when he'd take a day off, he replied with a grin and a wink of the eye, "tomorrow."

For the next 25 minutes as we made our way to O'Hare, I was fascinated by this guy's tale. One part in particular struck me as truly remarkable.

"My father is the reason that our province passed a law that no man can have more than four wives," he said with a proud smile on his face.

"How many wives do you have?" I asked.

"Just one. All of us boys only have one. But I'd like another."

"Won't that be expensive? I mean, I'm married, and I can't imagine how much a family with three adults would cost. What would your wife think, and why do you want another one?"

"Well, my current wife probably wouldn't like it, but I'm smart enough to know not to ask her over the phone! I could just imagine how proud my father would be if I could have one more wife. It's different over there. Weddings are not as expensive, and everyone pitches in."

I was amazed at listening to this man. I could see in his eyes (as a reflection off of the rear-view mirror) that he was honestly debating how he could ask his wife, whom he obviously cared for a great deal, if he could have another wife. I admired him for working so hard to provide for his family that he hadn't seen in eight years, and found myself wondering how different our lives were, but couldn't help feeling happy that I asked him that lead in question. Here we were, two men with completely different lives and completely different cultures, and both astutely happy that we were in this conversation. I was happy because I had never met someone from Somalia before and found Saul fascinating, and he was happy because he was staying awake, and, as he later told me, "no one ever talks to cabbies about cabbies!"

Saul reminded me of one of the tricks of traveling: never pass up an opportunity to learn about someone. I've tried to do this in Boston, but the cabbies must have all gone to HBS or something as they are completely disinterested about anything but making money. I challenge you to try it. You may just find yourself contemplating the feasibility of more than one spouse!