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The Knowledge

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“Shifu?” I ask, “shifu? Ting bu jian ma?” With no response, I peer over the front seat. “Ke’chink”, goes the lighter, blazing up another Nanjing Gold as he simultaneously gags up impressive fat greeny phlegm and spits it out of the window.

After some intense coughing for a moment, he takes a toke of his smoke and a swig of tea from a jam jar, turns to me and says, “So, where you going?”

Finally hailing him down after what felt like hours, I was just pleased to be on my way. If it is even close to rush hour in Nanjing, one can forget it; regular taxis are as elusive as toilet paper. Didi Chuxin and Uber are the way to go these days, making life faster, hassle free and cheaper.

The evolution of transport in Nanjing over the nine years I have been coming here has happened amazingly fast when compared to how things move in my native Australia. Nine years ago, the trek from Xianlin to downtown meant a 45-minute, ¥100 car journey, while the snows of 2008-2009 had the Xianlin folk quite literally stuck; there was no way to go downtown. Four years later, the metro came, and a couple of years after that I can take a Didi from downtown to Xianlin on the new highway in 30 minutes, for just ¥18. With the arrival of taxi hailing apps, these days I rarely take the bus or metro; why go through all the pushing and shoving, gawking and groping?

My phone rings. “Wei? Are you at your pick up point?” asks the softly spoken driver, “yes, I’m here, I’ll wait on the corner” I reply. “Ok, I’ll be there in a sec”. I scan the app for his car colour and number plate. As I look up he arrives, gliding down the road, all black, slick and shiny. I sit back and close my eyes until I arrive home. No messing about with money, I only have to get out and say goodbye to the driver.

This mode of transportation is nothing new; soccer mums from the Californian coast to the suburbs of Melbourne have been car-pooling for decades. The development of cellular 4G, GPS systems and instant third party payment options paved the way for co-founders Travis Kalanick and Garett Camp to launch Uber. The first time I took an Uber was in Leeds; it came to the door and dropped us at the pub for a third of the price a taxi would have cost. In Mexico, taxi drivers went on strike twice in the time I lived there, protesting the use of private cars. Uber is everywhere and its popularity is spreading like wildfire.

The public, the taxis and the government have welcomed Uber China and Didi Chuxin with open arms. Anything that helps relieve the strain on public transport is a help. However, I wonder whether Didi cars are adding to Nanjing’s horrific traffic problem. Possible.

As long as one books a private car for themselves, the cheaper option is obviously to car-pool with others. So if I am not in so much of a hurry I will choose this option, at times to my detriment. If people are not going to conduct themselves in an orderly manner when getting on the metro and off a bus, what makes you think they will in a car?

As the driver pulls up, he calls a passenger; there is already a man in the front seat, so I move over to let this other person in (a courtesy I rarely get in return). She dumps all of her shopping in the middle of the seat and squeezes her way in. As we pull away, she huffs and puffs while eyeing me up and eventually asks me to move over “just a bit more”. I look at her. “Like, are you kidding me? Where do you suppose I move to? There is no room!” She immediately gets her back up and starts ranting and raving that she has paid for two seats (one for her, one for her bags); in my defence, I start ranting and raving back until the driver eventually intervenes and breaks up our cat fight.

So etiquette problems have begun to surface in the Didi universe, some of which the drivers have to deal with. Who sits up front? Why do all the men get the front seat? Who is dropped off first? Where should people’s bags go? If I know a quicker way, is it rude to tell the driver? Wet umbrellas should stay on the floor.

London cabbies need to pass a test called The Knowledge before they can begin driving people around. This is a very extensive examination that tests every part of the city; the drivers must know every lane, to every hotel, before they can drive. It is said that their brain even expands half an inch due to the test!

In China no such luck. The Knowledge is a part passenger, part driver cooperation, which sometimes ends badly.

GPS systems these days are pretty accurate at getting drivers where they need to go, which makes it possible for any yokel and his goat to download the app, rent a car and be on their way.

The leaves fall all around me, landing on my shoulders as autumn sets in and I stand on the corner of the road waiting for my Didi. My phone rings. “Wei?” I answer softly as it is 8:45am and my morning coffee hasn’t kicked in yet. “Wei! WHERE ARE YOU?!” the driver bellows down the phone. “I’m at the address it says, the address I put in.” “YEAH BUT I CAN’T READ! SO YOU NEED TO TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE!” the driver roars in a slightly panicky voice. This is not a good sign. I should have known.

After successfully leading him to my address, I get in the car and we are on our way; his car being slightly older and more unkempt than other Didi cars worries me but he seems jolly enough. I explain where I need to go and he seems sure of my destination, so I let my guard down. I open the BBC on my phone, sit back and settle into an article about Trump. That is, until the driver shouts, “CAN I USE THIS TUNNEL?”

I look up from my phone and recognise the tunnel, “Yes you can, but you need to bear left”, I said. “Hao de!” he said and pressed on. Forgetting he cannot read, I notice he is about to miss the left turn, “SHIFU! LEFT LEFT!!” I shout but to no avail, he has missed the turn and now we are on our way out to Pukou.

“WHAT? Oh no! I’ve missed the turn! Oh no, now we can’t turn around, oh no, miss…miss…miss, we’ve missed the turn… MISS, WE’VE MISSED THE TURN!” he cries. “YES Sherlock! I know! Now we are under the Yangtze river and on our way to Pukou, you can’t turn around now; you have to just go straight and turn around when we get out”, I explain.

“PUKOU! AIYA! Why did you tell me we could take that tunnel?” Of course, it is the foreigner’s fault that we are now under the Yangtze River. He then spends the next half an hour it takes us to turn around to come back apologising after I scold him for blaming me. Having already returned my money to me via Wechat, after we exit the tunnel he says, “Ok, I think we are back, now where do we go?” He proceeded to get lost again in the Hexi suburbs having ignored my advice to just use his GPS.

Rumours are running wild with talk of Didi matching train prices and getting people to and from Shanghai and Nanjing, door to door. With technology rapidly improving such services, they are only going to become easier to use, cheaper and more accessible. It also gives ordinary people a way to run their own business successfully.

Shading ourselves from the rain, we wait for our Didi to pick us up from Shanghai Lu at midnight. It arrives five minutes after I book it. We get in (a little inebriated) and my partner whispers to me in English, “do you think they rent these cars? All the plastic is still on?” “I’m not sure” I reply softly. “Can you ask her?” he inquires of me, “I can’t remember how to say that in Chinese…” I tell him, defeated. “Yes, I rent this car”, says the driver in perfect English. Ah! Well that was embarrassing. “I’m an accountant by day and a Didi driver by night, it is obviously very profitable. That is why I do it”, said told us.

“Welcome to my car!” the driver pronounced. “Please put on your seat belt, sit back and relax. Any questions you have, just ask!” This particular professional even had a business card and asked me to not only give him five stars when I leave but to leave a comment too!

With as many as 16 million rides completed on Didi’s platform on a daily basis in 2016, its popularity is proving steadfast. As I look at my phone, I am astounded that I have built up 560 Didi points in seven months, points that allow me further ride discounts, spa treatments and discounts on flights! With my Didi booked and ready for tomorrow morning, it is one less thing I need to worry about.

This article was first published in The Nanjinger Magazine, December 2016 issue. If you would like to read the whole magazine, please follow this link.

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