Last October, while I was in Cyprus, a taxi driver refused to let me put my backpack in the backseat of his car. I’m sure he had his reasons, though I can’t imagine what they were. I had my mine too – namely that my backpack contained my driver’s license, laptop, wallet, medications and almost every other thing of value I owned. When I’m traveling, I don’t let it out of my sight.
After quite a few rounds of questioning, the driver finally lost his patience.
“You put it in the trunk,” he said. “Or you take another taxi.”
“OK, another taxi then,” I said, getting out of the car and hauling my suitcase down the sidewalk behind me. I would have followed through with that plan but for the fact that the man then shouted in Turkish to the line of waiting drivers. I don’t know what he said exactly, but judging from their reaction it was something along the lines of, “You take her and you deal with me.”
At that point, I opted for the bus – and I arrived at my hotel shortly thereafter, safe, sound and $20 richer.
That interaction bugged me for days, though I couldn’t quite explain why. I didn’t think there was anything sinister going on – no modified “bump and run” scam or a pickpocketing scheme in the works. Most likely it was just a power play made by a middle-aged man who resented the idea of driving a single young lady to a two and a half star hotel. Or maybe it was even less than that. Maybe the driver didn’t want to scuff up the interior of his car. In the end, I decided that it was probably nothing. Still, if it was “nothing” then why did the driver make it into such a big deal?
And this was why my mind kept working the situation over: it didn’t make sense. Why was getting in a taxi with a backpack suddenly such a problem? What did I do to make this person behave so aggressively? Was I the one who overreacted by stomping off with my luggage?
The beauty of traveling solo for years is that I now have plenty of evidence to help answer those questions. I know what normal, appropriate behavior is. I have reasonable expectations about how I will be treated as a woman in different parts of the world. I have a good understanding of my own flaws. The problem with the taxi was not of my making – and I know that because for the past three years I have been getting in and out of cars in more than 50 different countries and had never met another driver who took issue with my backpack. Only one person in the line was being combative and unreasonable that day – and it wasn’t me.
“It’s not me, it’s you.” That’s how I would sum up the problem with the taxi driver and the backpack or the irate Italian guest house owner with the bad directions or the snide German relocation specialist with the overbooked schedule. Each of these men were quick to let me know that I caused a big problem for them. I was too stupid to follow their directions or too inconsiderate to stick to a schedule, which let them little choice but to scream at me and hang up on me and hurl insults at me – this despite the fact that I was paying them for their help.
These men were so loud and so insistent about my shortcomings that I almost believed them. Until, that is, I remembered that I hardly ever have problems like the ones they were describing. I travel to new cities every few weeks; I work a full time job; I have never once missed a plane or a train or a bus. Believe me when I say that if I can’t find an address, then it’s because the directions suck and so does the person giving them. That’s a fact – based on years’ worth of evidence.
“It’s not me, it’s you,” is a lesson I wish I learned five continents ago. I’d like to go back in time and apply it to former managers and ex-boyfriends and just about everyone I ever encountered at CVS. I wish I could get back the time and energy I spent trying to figure out what I did to deserve their mistreatment when, in reality, the answer was far more simple: “It’s not me, it’s you.” I’ve spent the past few years proving that there’s no other explanation. And while I’m thankful for the peace of mind that brings today, it would have been nice to know before I started lugging their baggage all over the world. Nowadays, I know better that to let such things weigh me down. Instead I pack all that nonsense in the trunk… and then drive it straight out of town.
The hotelier in Portugal who would not rent a room to me but insisted that I produce my “husband” who was waiting outside in the rental car.
The taxi driver in Versailles who would not accept me as a passenger because of the “liability”. What?
Thank you for putting them in perspective.
Oh girl… I’m sorry. I’m not shocked that you ran into these problems, though I am a little surprised that you experienced them in Portugal and France. (I want to ask when, but unless you tell me it was in the middle of a world war, that’s still not going to make a difference.) Anyway – I get it. It’s not you, it’s them… Like the tattoos say, Nolite te Bastardes Carborundorum.
I believe that applies way more often than we think! We’re always quick to jump to the conclusion that if someone has a problem with us, it must be our fault – when quite often (most of the time?) it’s theirs.
What a beautiful post!
Yes, I agree. It’s not that I won’t accept fault or admit my own flaws, but there are just so many times that it seems to have nothing to do with me. And it’s just so much more obvious now that I have tested out the same activities all over the world for three years. When someone’s reaction to me differs from the previous 99 people – that’s not something I have to concern myself. Thanks for reading!
This is good. I question, and rattle things over in my head, if I’ve had something done or said to me and blame myself. It’s best to let stuff go and realise it’s not our problem
Yes, exactly. I think we’re trained to do just that and, in so many ways, self-reflection is a good quality to have. But part of that process is realising when the problem is not specific to you… and I think a lot of people have a hard time really believing that it’s not about them personally.
Thanks for reading!!
Some people delight in making their shortcomings and bad days OUR problem: I was in a motel some years back, and wanted just a quick breakfast, coffee and a bun: I turned from the counter and headed for the dining area, and suddenly I am flat on the floor, coffee everywhere, the nicely buttered bun now a battered bun underneath me.
What…
“Oh”, the waitress said, “everyone does that, they just don’t watch where they’re going”, and walked off. Then I realized, the dining area was recessed, three shallow steps down, but the carpet–and the carpeted stairs–AND the carpeted dining area were all of a piece. You simply could not see where one ended and the other dipped. I was furious, and embarrassed, and once I scraped the bun off my clothes, angry.
No one asked if I was okay, or offered me a fresh cup of coffee.
But I refuse to be taken in by “everyone does it’. If everyone does it, sooner or later ‘someone’ is going to break a hip, and their son the lawyer will be calling..
Ugh. I’m sorry. that’s so unbelievably annoying. I’ve noticed that line come up a lot when people have a problem: Oh everyone does it… if everyone does it, then fix it! Even more annoying is, No one else has a problem with this… and as a person who seems to find every possible banana peel to slip on, I sometimes accept the humour in that… But once in a while, like with the bad directions in Italy or the person who got so testy with me because it was taking longer than usual to process my paperwork, hearing “you’re the only one!” is frustrating. It’s also, I’ve decided, not entirely true. Am I supposed to suddenly believe that I can’t read a map – or can we concede that you sent me three blocks in the wrong direction to a similarly named church as a landmark? Am I really a person who can’t fill out paperwork quickly enough in GERMAN, or are you a person who can’t properly schedule your day? I sincerely doubt that it’s me…
Anyway – you’re right. Those steps will get fixed once someone takes a serious fall. And I have tremendous sympathy for that person… because it shouldn’t have happened.
And, sadly, it’s a control thing in many cases: the clerk who directs you to the right room on the wrong floor (you just werent listening), or sends you off in the opposite direction (shrugs, you know what these out of towners are like) deliberately, just to watch you struggle…
I adore this takeaway! Too many years spent feeling like an inconvenience simply for being alive…
so true! now we can both remind ourselves: it’s not me, it’s you. having read your book, I know this is especially true for you, the person who has pretty much seen the best and worst in humanity. if someone cuts you, I sincerely doubt that you’re the one at fault.
Hi there, totally agree w/you that it was definitely HIS problem and not yours. You didn’t do anything wrong. The only thing I can think of that maybe explains why he wanted your bag in the trunk is if he’s had a bad experience in the past with someone taking out some sort of weapon from their backpack or something else that made him uneasy. Or made him a target for carjacking at stoplights or something. Other than that, no idea and definitely not a reason for him to be rude to you! Love your writing. ;-)
yes, I agree. it’s possible he thought I was going to pull a gun out of my carryon after coming out of an airport… but it’s far more likely that he was just some guy with a problem that had nothing to do with me. He can own that. anyway – thanks for reading! happy new year to you!