Upon returning from a semester abroad in Lima, Peru, I was confronted with a question by many of my close family and friends: what did you learn? “I learned a lot about myself,” or, “I learned Spanish,” or, “I learned about Peruvian culture” were all answers that crossed my mind, but let’s be honest. These are lame.
One of the most surprisingly significant aspects of my time in South America was learning how to barter for taxis. As a triple threat of distinctive qualities (white, blonde, American – I am what they call a gringa), I was a natural target for ambitious (perhaps a better word is slimy) taxi drivers wanting to overcharge. For starters, let’s get the currency conversation out of the way. One Peruvian sol (soul?) is worth 29 cents and in case you are wondering, “your soul is only worth 33 cents! Hahaha!” is not an original thought/insult.
Since Lima is such a large city, taxis made up a majority of cars seen on the road. Though I was advised both heavily and repeatedly against it, I often took taxis off the street (after all, nothing bad could ever happen to me). My first and most unexperienced interactions went a little something like:
Me - “Hi! I would like to go to the central plaza.”
Taxi driver – “That will be 25 soles.”
Me – “25?! What a steal!” as I ignorantly got in the car completely unaware that the normal price is about 10 soles.
After living in Peru for about a month, I began to learn the regular prices for rides. This enhanced my power from that of a naïve, fanny-pack-wearing tourist to a hard-hearted, city-slicking “local” (as local as a white, blonde American can get) as I was then able to object to prices and explain that I, a gringa, knew the true price. When this change occurred, my taxi-hailing experience converted into something more like:
Me – “I’m going to the central plaza.”
Taxi driver – “Hmmm… 25 soles!”
Me – After faking a shocked face and sometimes offended gasp, “No… 8 soles!”
Taxi driver – Beginning to think as I walk away, “Señora! Okay! 9 soles!”
Me – Walk back with a “that’ll do” sort of face.
You can probably imagine just how quickly this amplified my ego. I began to strut the streets with a prideful air about my shoulders. Since pride has historically been a major elicitor of my eccentricities, I would be lying to you if I told you that my bartering activities ended there. Between me and my international friends, bartering for taxis almost became a game. We would take turns charming/yelling/intimidating taxi drivers to compete for the best prices, and, this was done to just about any expense. A good friend of mine once spent thirty minutes arguing over one sol (again, 29 cents) with multiple taxi drivers. We were competitive and, therefore, this is what bartering for a taxi looked like by the end of my time in Peru:
Me – “Central Plaza”
Taxi driver – “25 soles!”
Me – With an immediate face of disgust I would argue, “NO! That’s ridiculous! I’m not paying more that 4 soles for this and that’s the price I usually pay” (This was a lie).
Taxi driver – “Oh.. that’s what you usually pay?” I nod to him with uncomfortable eye contact while silently moving my face closer and closer, “How about 8 soles?”
Me – Too proud to realize this excellent discount, “NO! 5!” I would yell. I began to walk away knowing that five more taxi drivers were watching to jump in if this one drove away.
Taxi driver – After a defeated shrug, he agreed.
Me – As I slid into the backseat, my affect changed entirely and I would greet him “Buenos días!” chipper and proud as ever.
One time, I even bet a friend that I could get a 12 soles ride for 6 soles. We took turns attempting this bargain with taxis. After several rejections, I had a stroke of brilliance. When asking for the ride, I, with glistening eyes, explained to the cab driver that I needed the ride for 6 soles because it was, unfortunately, all the money I had (this was, again, a lie). My tactic worked flawlessly until I got in the cab and realized that I did not have exact change for 6 soles.
While saving money (however small in amount) was a clear benefit to aggressively bartering for cabs, I noticed a much weightier and lasting change in myself from learning this new skill. When I came back to the states, I was way more likely to advocate for myself. I began volunteering for positions that put me in the spotlight or that I felt entirely unqualified for because I knew that it was silly to wait for other people to realize that I am an asset. If I was shown disrespect or hurt in some way by another person, I was better at directly and immediately confronting negative feelings and situations. I have not had the opportunity to negotiate a salary yet, but I am confident that after this experience, I will approach it fearlessly. It is a lie to believe that salaries and money compensation are such personal matters. More times than not, the person negotiating with you is not affected at all by the outcome.
Ultimately, while living in Peru, I learned more about my own worth than I did about the worth of a ride from one part of the city to the other. Just like my confidence increased after knowing the correct taxi prices, so did it when I began to recognize my own value. It is an act of self-love to advocate for yourself. I’m not sure I realized how many friendships, opportunities and unrealized art I had stifled before learning to love myself well. It is now that I am able to love others better, fulfill my own potential and shake off experiences that used to make me feel rejected and worthless.
After revealing my incredibly aggressive final taxi-hailing strategy, my final advice is to be weary of overcompensation. Though it is funny in a taxi context, screaming your value into another person’s face typically doesn’t end well. Use your judgment, go forth and barter to love yourself better.
