The Biography Taxi Ride Posted on 12 May 23:18 , 0 comments
By Vivi Rathbone.
“My family has been in Argentina for seven generations.” The portly, white-haired taxi driver told me as we turned left on Avenida Libertador.
“My ancestors settled in Moron. They came here in a boat from Europe hundreds of years ago and built a home in the area where my family still lives today.”
I didn’t quite know how to respond, so I let him continue.
“Vos? How long have you been en Buenos Aires? How many years do you have?”
I live, work and write in Buenos Aires. I have been here since January, 2010. On my twenty third birthday, I hopped a plane to Buenos Aires. I never went back.
“Que?!” The taxi driver shook his raised right hand in disbelief. “You came here when you were twenty-three? Sos una nena! If you were my daughter, I’d hit you on the head, and I wouldn’t let you go!”
I started to feel uncomfortable in the backseat. I remained quiet and grateful for my parents.
“My daughter is thirty-five and she lives at home because she isn’t ready yet to live independently. She is too young. I could buy her an apartment, but she wants to live with us. It isn’t normal to leave the home when you are so young.”
I just shrugged my shoulders. The heard the voice of my psychoanalyst saying, “Vivi, there are no solutions in arguing.”
We arrived at the destination and I paid the eighteen peso cab fare with a crumpled up twenty peso note. The driver handed me a moneda and I thanked him.
“Ey,” He stopped me as I was about to step out of the cab and pointed to his eye, a gesture of caution. “You should think seriously about settling down. You’re getting old and soon it will be too late.”