SATURDAY, JULY 26, 2003


A large board near the main entrance of the Multiplaza Mall
displays fixed prices to destinations all around the city

Drivers of Tegucigalpa's taxis find driving taxing

BY LARRY SCHWARZ

David Rodriguez stood calmly at the main entrance to the Multiplaza Mall waiting for his next passenger. It's a ritual he knows all too well. Mr. Rodriguez, 24, has been driving a taxi in Tegucigalpa seven days a week for the last eight years.

As a clean-shaven, well dressed man with slicked-back hair and stylish sunglasses, he could easily be mistaken for a security guard at one of the city's fashionable discos. He's single, has no children, and is quick to point out that he has far greater aspirations than merely shuttling people around town. In addition to being a full-time driver, he's studying to be a systems engineer at the Catholic School of Honduras.

For Mr. Rodriguez, driving a taxi isn't just about skillfully navigating the streets of the city. It's also about managing a huge investment - the largest portion being the cost of his used 1989 Nissan Sentra for which he paid 100,000 lempiras (US$5,786). In addition, he forked over a one-time fee of 40,000 lempiras ($2,314) to obtain his officially assigned number. Then, of course, there is the daily cost of gasoline, which by his estimation is approximately 250 - 300 lempiras ($14.47 - $17.36).

"On an average shift, I earn about 400 lempiras ($23.15)," he calculated. "If I work a long shift, like from 8am - 10pm, I can earn as much as 800 lemprias ($46.29)."

Those figures don't take into account other crucial issues such as sick pay, traffic accidents, and auto insurance, which is not required under Honduran law.

"The majority of taxi drivers in Honduras own their cars and are not insured," he said. "If you are sick or get into an accident, it is your responsibility."

Although there is no official union representing drivers, they sometimes come to agreements with each other for the sake of their own survival. Case in point: the taxi stand at the Multiplaza mall. The drivers who use this stand have agreed to specific fares, which are clearly posted on a large board near the departure area. Few people complain about the rates, since they appear to be quite reasonable.

"Foreigners tend to want to pay more than the fixed fare," Mr. Rodriguez said, "so they will often give me a tip. Locals never tip at all."

Honduran taxis do not have meters, so outside of the mall, fares must be negotiated in advance. The best advice for new arrivals is "never get into a taxi without discussing the fare first." In general, it is possible to get anywhere in the city for a maximum of 40 lempiras ($2.31). Prices to and from the airport are higher.

When someone gets into a taxi, a driver must be mentally prepared to go just about anywhere. The majority of trips are local, but every once in a while, people actually request to go out of town.

"Passengers sometimes ask to go to Comayagua (85km/53 miles)," Mr. Rodriguez recalled, "but the farthest I've ever taken anyone is all the way to Trujillo."

He charged 6,000 lempiras ($347) for that journey. After he dropped off the passenger in Trujillo, he drove back to La Ceiba, spent the night, and returned home the following day.

One of the biggest concerns for taxi drivers anywhere in the world is fear of robbery. Mr. Rodriguez has never been robbed, but he always keeps it in the back of his mind.

"I worry more at nights when crime is a bigger problem," he said. "I try to stay near the mall during the evening and on weekends, because it's safer than other places. I never go to places that are inaccesible or dangerous, and I can usually tell by looking at someone if they are going to be a problem. If I get a bad feeling, I don't take them."

These days, a lot of taxi drivers seem to be having that "bad feeling." Last Wednesday, La Tribuna reported that drivers are now refusing to take passengers to gang-infested neighborhoods, because they fear for their lives. Many have been assaulted, injured, or even killed and no longer want to take the risk.

Competition for passengers on the streets of Tegucigalpa can be downright fierce. Mr. Rodriguez estimates there are about 6,000 taxis registered to do business legally, and he believes there are another thousand or so driving around illegally - in other words, using a phony sign with a duplicate number.

Some people believe that the large number of taxis on the road is due to the need for service by the middle class, since many of them don't own cars. Mr. Rodriguez, however, suspects that politics plays a part as well.

"The sale of operating numbers has become a big problem," he said. "Too many numbers have been sold." He suggested that SOPTRAVI (the Ministry of Public Works, Transport and Housing), the office in charge of assigning numbers, sells them as a way to raise money for presidential candidates in exchange for a post in the government.

Most passengers are relatively normal and arrive at their destinations without incident; shocking tales are few and far between. Over the years, the most unusual stuff Mr. Rodriguez described is limited to same-sex kissing and the occasional transvestite.

"One time, an individual got into the car," he said with a straight face. "The person looked like a woman but spoke like a man. I knew by the voice that he was a man."

He also hears a lot of stories much like those seen on the HBO documentary Taxicab Confessions. "I hear things like 'my wife has been unfaithful' and vice versa, or 'my wife doesn't understand me, so I'm thinking of cheating.'"

Mr. Rodriguez immediately dispelled rumors that taxi drivers are occasionally hired by wealthy foreigners to bring street kids to their hotel rooms for sex.

"Every now and then, people walk out of the (Intercontinental) hotel, see a street kid, and take him for something to eat," he said, "but that's about it."

Many foreigners often complain about the irritating horn-honking that drivers use to get their attention. For taxi drivers, it's just another method they use to increase their revenue.

"It really works," Mr. Rodriguez said. "Honking helps business."

For Wilson Guillen, 31, life has been a little bit tougher. During the last six years, he has been driving seven days a week from noon to midnight in order to support his wife and two kids. In 1997, he sold his pickup truck and paid 45,000 lempiras ($2,603) in cash for a 1985 Toyota Corolla. For him, this career choice is likely to be his livelihood for the foreseeable future.

"The economic situation doesn't allow me to study," he said, while keeping a constant eye on his vehicle parked only a few feet away.

Complicating Mr. Guillen's situation is that he owns his car but doesn't own the registration number. As a result, he earns the same 400 lempiras ($23.15) per shift as Mr. Rodriguez, but must work an additional four hours to pay rent to the number's owner. He is also one of the few drivers with an automatic transmission.

"The majority of taxis have a manual transmission," he said. "A lot of people are scared to drive an automatic, because they think it's more difficult."

One thing Mr. Guillen has in his favor is his prior experience as an auto mechanic. Since he knows a lot about cars, he can fix most problems without having to spend too much money. However, if it's an electrical problem, or something too severe, he brings it to an expert.

Another common problem among taxi drivers worldwide is dealing with people who can't or won't pay their fare after arriving at their destination.

"People get into the car, and I take them somewhere," Mr. Guillen said. "Sometimes they don't have any money, so they pay with clothing or food. Other times, they tell me to meet them tomorrow, but they never show up. I'm not happy about it, but there isn't anything I can do."

As for his health, despite the long hours sitting on his backside, his overall physical state is pretty good.

"Sitting down all day is bad for your kidneys," Mr. Guillen said, "so I drink a lot of water."

He acknowledged that the constant intake of fluids made him the city's foremost expert on the location of public restrooms.