A challenge and a choice

I'm writing this at the time I'm usually at my pilates class. I got up at my usual time, got myself ready, took the dogs out, and waited. My taxi didn't come to pick me up today, and Kiko is working. I guess I could have walked to a main street like Roca y Bologna or Tomas Marsano to hail a cab, which would have taken a little while because most taxis are full during rush hour. I'm kind of frustrated because this is the second time it has happened, but I really like my taxi driver and will give him the benefit of the doubt that something unavoidable came up. It's challenging to have to rely on others to get me where I want and need to go. I'll try again tomorrow.


Last night Kiko and I were trying to figure out my transportation needs for next week.  I think I will be teaching nine classes, in two different locations, and only have back-to-back classes once, so that's 16 one-way trips. Add to that six trips to the Academia Natacion Johnny Bello where my pilates classes are held, and financially it's barely worth it because my earnings will be paying for my transportation. Plus now I'm nervous that my taxi might not come, and I won't get to work on time. Kiko will drive me whenever he can, so that will help. My other option would be to take a bus, combi, or micro, but my comfort zone is honestly not there yet. I suppose I can count myself fortunate to have this problem. Although I feel very limited without my own car (and even if I had it, I don't think I'd actually want to drive in the craziness here), I do have a few transportation options, and I do have the money to ride in taxis. Most Peruvians don't have a choice in their mode of transport because they simply cannot afford anything other than public transportation.


Most of the people I know in the U.S. are not faced with the disparity of social class and income on a constant basis like we are here in Peru. I walk out my door and encounter service workers like maids, nannies, gardeners, security guards, personal drivers, street vendors, maintenance men, street sweepers, trash collectors, dog walkers, and car washers. I see them, and talk to them, in my own neighborhood, everyday, all day long. In the U.S. we see our gardener and trash collector once a week, and how often do we talk to them? I don't live in a wealthy neighborhood, yet my neighbors and I enjoy their services. I'm sure when their work day is done that they don't have the choice of taking a taxi or waiting for a spouse to pick them up. They'll walk, and they'll take public transportation, often having to stand because the bus is so packed. After a lengthy journey they will probably arrive at a neighborhood that is not as nice as mine, and in their small dwelling they'll take a cold shower because they don't have hot water, and wash their clothes by hand because they don't have a washing machine. Then I'll see them busy at their jobs on my street tomorrow when I go out to catch my taxi for pilates class.


I have some choices, and today I choose to be grateful.