Cabs in Winter

One of the best things about catching cabs in winter is the interesting way in which Windhoekers describe the curse of the cold.

For the cab driver speeding me to an art gallery one arctic early morning, the chill comes at him like a beating from a grumpy ghost.

“This winter thing is serious,” says the cabbie, wincing at the trials of existing in subzero temperatures. “When you get up, take off the blanket and put your feet on the floor, it’s like somebody smacks you and says: Neh, man! Go back! Go back!”

Forced to choose between cold, hard capitalism and a poltergeist’s warning against freezing, the cab driver, let’s call him Lebbeus, decides to hit the streets. As he motors around the city, waiting for the telltale tinkle of a rideshare request, my call comes in.

Fooled by bright sunshine through a closed window and the deceptively warm interior of my home, I’ve stepped out in short sleeves, with far too much hope for an early summer.

As I let out a high-pitched little yelp, the icy August winds shock my body into a profound state of regret. Inside his parked car, Lebbeus peers at me from the front seat with an expression that says: “You chose that life.”
“It’s cold!” I declare loudly.

Lebbeus laughs and agrees but he can’t feel it. He’s heeded the Go Back Ghost’s temperature warning. He’s bundled up in long pants and a big, squishy puffer jacket, happily immune to winter’s final blast before the spring.

“I hate winter! Too cold!”, I say grouchily as I rummage in my backpack for my threadbare, just-in-case black jacket that’s always in there.

All the season’s short days and cold nights considered, Lebbeus prefers winter to the summer. As we begin the trip and I ask him why, Lebbeus reckons it’s a simple matter of economics.

“Winter is free,” he says and I ask him to elaborate. “When it’s cold, you wear warm clothes, sleep in a big blanket, drink something hot and you’ll be okay. But in summer, you have to spend. You have to be a survivor!”
The way Lebbeus tells it, Namibian summers need a survival kit.

First on the list is air conditioning, both at home and in your car. For this you have two options, an aircon system or an old-school fan. This runs up your petrol and electricity bill and does very little to drop your core temperature.

“That aircon story also gives you a headache and blocks your nose,” says Lebbeus, touching the side of his head as if recalling a particularly severe migraine.

“You know, summer migraines are usually caused by dehydration. You need to drink more water,” I say jokingly, but also in the manner of someone all too versed in Googling symptoms of various afflictions.

“Water!”, says Lebbeus triumphantly. “In summer, there isn’t enough water. It’s just drought, high water bills and buying ice for warm drinks.”

As a summer lover, I can admit the man has a point. But Lebbeus really begins to turn the tide when he m
entions the season’s ultimate villains … the critters.

“In summer, you never eat alone. Flies! Flies everywhere! There’s always someone to join you,” says Lebbeus of the winged and uninvited guests before coming for their cousins. “And the mosquitoes! Those noisy injectors! Some nights you won’t even sleep because they’re just there singing and biting.”

As we near my destination, Lebbeus adds bees to the bane of his summer existence.

To the cost of summer living, he also tallies the purchasing of multiple cans of ‘Doom’ to aid in the mass murder of flies, mosquitoes and those big, brown spiders.

At this point, I’ve forgotten how much I dislike winter and I’m giggling appreciatively. Lebbeus clearly has a future in comedy. I tell him as much and he seems pleased.

“Enjoy winter while you can, my sister. Summer is hot and it’s just there and coming,” Lebbeus says ominously as he ends our trip and rates the ride.

“Soon, you’ll have to survive!”

– martha@namibian.com.na;
Martha Mukaiwa on Twitter and Instagram; marthamukaiwa.com