I rode home one night in a real rattletrap of a taxi. The car was so loose, I thought the rear axle might come around and visit the front axle... if it didn't get left behind in a couple of the larger potholes. We'd hit a rippling washboard in the road and each of the wheels would individually start doing an Irish jig, but not in step. By the time they settled down, we had jigged half way across the road toward the poor guy coming towards us on a bicycle. Just before disaster, the wheels would start dancing to the same tune and we would lurch around the panicked rider. I should have known I was in for an adventure when I came out from the house to catch the taxi and the driver was pouring water into the radiator in the dim light of one cockeyed Cyclopes headlight. I just sat there and laughed. It was truly an experience. I love Afghanistan! I paid the driver extra because I felt so sorry for him. This car was probably his only means of livelihood and he was so proud of it.
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