The Uber driver is a little reserved but after traveling for three blocks, he warms up and starts telling me about his country and his life story. In 30 minutes I feel like I have known him for a long time. . He is from Afghanistan and is very proud of his 21-year-old daughter who is studying to be a nurse. The exact opposite of his son who doesn’t want to go to college.
He said Afghanistan is a beautiful hilly country with four seasons but is savaged by war.
The people lack education so they are easily persuaded. I could tell that he has a deep concern for his beloved country and he feels sad that it’s war-torn.
His wife passed away when she was 33 of cancer. She was his first cousin and was 12 years younger. He said in their country it’s allowed to marry your cousin. He said he recently visited his brother in Germany and when he came back, he showed his son a photo of his brother and his beautiful daughter. He wants his niece to marry his son. His son replied, “No way, she’s like my sister”. His son’s girlfriend is Mexican.
His daughter is the first person in their whole clan to go to college. They are all rooting for her. While we are engaged in his animated stories, something tells me that I don’t want to tell him where I am from. Maybe because he is saying that he is not happy with passengers who like to make friends, talking about politics, most especially the young people.
He tells me it tires him out arguing about politics, Trump, and the war of the world.
Uber drivers normally ask their passengers where they are from (if they are not puti or itim).
I am not going to tell this guy where I am from. If he asks, I will pretend that I am from Malaysia, Indonesia, Thailand, or Cambodia.
Driver—–“Where are you from? I hear a Filipino accent”.
What? Buking!
