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Taxi rides, taxi rides and more taxi rides… If you're a world traveler, then you've probably heard people complaining about taxi drivers ripping you off. I've heard these complaints in Bangkok, New Delhi, Hong Kong and Beijing. I've heard these complaints in almost in every country I've visited. Everyone seems to think their city has the worst drivers around. Well, I don't know who has the market cornered on bad taxis, but I do know that I was taken to the cleaners in Beijing. This happened a few years ago. I've heard that things are different now. The government has been regulating taxi drivers more since winning the bid for the Olympics. All kinds of prohibitions have been put into place. Drivers are no longer allowed to spit or smoke while driving, or throw trash out the window. They even have a new dress code, and they're being told not to overcharge tourists. If their taxi is especially smelly, they can even be fined! In Beijing, there are various kinds of taxis coming in various colors and sizes. The larger the taxi, the more money you'll have to spend. Red taxis, known as 'bullet' taxis, are the best bet. They are the cheapest rides around, and should have a meter ticking off the price and kilometers. Always tell the driver to turn on the meter (kai ji in Mandarin Chinese).

Well, back to my story. I was new in China. My only other Asian experience had been in Japan, where transportation, albeit expensive, operated by the book. After arriving at Beijing Capital International Airport and picking up my bags, I wandered outside. I was immediately approached by a number of drivers. I chose a black taxi and asked the driver to take me to my university. Of course, being very nave at the time, I didn't even think to ask him to start the meter. Once underway, he told me that he had to make a quick stop. I didn't know Beijing at that time. We went to the southern part of the city (my university was in the north) to pick up his friend. Both of the men complemented me on my Chinese. The driver pointed out landmarks and his friend leaned over the front seat and talked to me in the back, giving me a little history about the city. Pleased at being able to communicate in Chinese, I didn't pay much attention to our rout. I know we passed the Forbidden Palace and Tiananmen Square. Twice. The ride was taking longer than expected. My driver told me there was of construction. There was always construction in Beijing. After reaching my university, I got out and both of them helped me with my bags. Then they told me the price. I almost collapsed. It was ten times what I'd expected. I tried to argue with them, but I was inexperienced and nervous on my first day in China. I paid them and turned to walk away, angry and embarrassed. The driver's friend shuffled over to put his arm around me. Yes, he told, we ripped you off. But I'd learned a valuable lesson. Ripping off foreigners was a national sport, he explained, and I'd better be careful. 'Don't trust anyone,' he warned me, 'and always use the meter.'