[Pakistan]
The 800 mile Karakorum highway from Islamabad, Pakistan had been open a year, and I was heading to China over the highest paved road in the world – the 15,000 foot Kunjerab pass.
Earlier on the trip, I had taken a bus from Lahore to Peshawar that was pretty scary, and so I had the idea of arranging for a car and driver to get me from Islamabad to Gilgit, which must have been 400 miles. I thought that would be a more mellow way to go.
I was scared out of my mind the whole time. The driver was a jerk, and kept up a constant monotone of prayer punctuated by the muted “Inshalla” (“God willing”) as he tore down the road at breakneck speed. We barely missed head-on collisions. I was freaked out and increasingly angry.
The strangest part is that I felt compelled to stay with him. I still don’t understand this. Why didn’t I just get out and wait for a bus? Maybe I kept thinking I could influence him to slow down. And in my trusting American way, I had pre-paid him.
I tried everything, including offering him money to drive slower. He couldn’t understand my problem – his whole self image was constructed around being a “driver.” His frame of reference was “this is how good drivers drive.”
When we got to Gilgit he asked for a tip. I said “no way” and walked off. For the next 15 minutes he trailed me around shouting, haranguing, and begging. Finally, I turned and tossed five cassette tapes at him that we had listened to. And then I started to run down the street. I looked back and saw him collecting them off the road….
Several months later, I was on a bus in Nepal that was really dangerous. It was the middle of night, and I made the driver stop. I walked five miles to the next town. I had to beat off a Tibetan mastiff who charged me in the dark. The animal just about gave me a heart attack. (No big problem, though. When I walk alone I carry a two foot metal tent pole, which is excellent portable dog protection.)