ECO1011: Introduction to Tuk Tuk Economics 101
The first lesson in any introductory subject is always some dodgey lecturer standing up the front jabbering on about the subject material, boring the students to the extent they actually choose to read the newspaper. So if you're bored of this already, click here or here or here. Or you can listen to me explain the tuk-tuk's of Sri Lanka. Firstly, after investigating for about 8 seconds, I have realised why nobody understands what the heck I am talking about when I call those three wheelie things a tuk-tuk. According to Wikpedia, in South Asia they are "autorickshaws". <- click there. Whereas in South East Asia, they are more like this. I like urban dictionary, it's a much more technical reference dealing with the definitions of sexual positions: this is a rickshaw ho (ooer) and this is a tuk tuk (fuck political correctness). Whatever you call them, tuk-tuks rock as transport and surely are better than the two busses I would have to catch to work.
That's a picture of a tuk-tuk when I was in Usangoodya - looks like the outback, ey? Here's some pictures of tuk-tuk's I'm glad I don't need to catch. Doooooooooooooooooodge.
Tuk-tuk economics is a practical subject. It's all about avoiding being ripped off by dodgey little men in their motorbike cabooses. So arriving in Colombo, I've had to employ all my knowledge of Tuk Tuk Economics 101. First thing, find your local tuk tuk stand. Luckily here in SL, there's one every 12 meters with about four dodgey little men sitting around waiting to steal your money. But don't rush to make a deal with them.. that would be foolish. You need to stake out a bargaining position. So for the first three days of working in the new office from a new apartment, I took my street smarts to the street. Every day, there and back, bargaining and arguing and throwing tanties doing whatever it takes to get the best deal: they agree to 100 rupes (pr. Roops) occasionaly, but always bump it up at the end when they realise I am at the "other side" of Welawata. Minimum: 115. Maximum 150. 1 1-0 to street smart Bozza.
Aight.. time to bargain. So on Monday, I head to the tuk tuk stand in the morning.. as usual, four dodgey little men hanging out of tuk tuks waiting for their prey: bonus, I arrive, and I'm white stocked with roops that they reckon they can get their grubby little hands on. But no cigar: I'm well equipped with street smarts. "How much to Kirulapane" - they correct my pronounciation, 1-1 to the tuk tuk stand (even after two weeks they still correct me, obviously they don't realise we won the war and they speak English I don't speak Sinhalese). They try to charge me 150, but I aint havin' none of it. "Everyday, " (they love that word) "i will travel to work. Everyday". They ask me to jump in, but no price is settled. "I am not paying 150", "no problem".. yeah, 2-1 to my bank manager. We drive, I direct.. I know where to go, my street smarts is coming in handy already. I tell him a short cut, he likey very muchy, 3-1 to A-Z Colombo. We arrive at my workplace.. he stops. Assesses the drive and his imaginary tuk tuk calculator (based on distance, price of petrol, time of day, and a random variable that is positively correlated to the flavour of chupa-chup the shortest guy in China is sucking on); he quotes 125. We bargain, I start at 100, at which point he reminds me that the shortest guy in China is currently sucking a strawberry chupa chup - darn, 3-2 to Mao Tsu-Tung. I try 110, no cigaro. 120. "Okay, everyday?". Everyday. 120 roops to work. It's a draw, 3-3.
The next day, I head back to the tuk tuk stand, where four dodgey little men are waiting with their grubby little hands to get my money. But somethings different.. they wave me down from a distance. I acknowledge with a little hand movement. There's movement as one jumps in his tuk tuk and turns the engine on.. the other little man who took me yesterday directs me to get in; a different driver.. to worry? No. This country is a socialist democracy. They share me around like the rickshaw ho I am. When I get in, he pronounces correctly, "Kirulapane?", "Kirulapane". I never need to say another word.. right out the front of my workplace, he stops. What convenience.. that surely is worth 10 roops a day! But sadly, I only have a hungie.. "Tomorrow, I give you 20 more, ok?" I spatter out in my pidgeon English with a dodgey Sri Lankan accent that they seem to understand much better. "No problem". Next day, I pay 140 and never hear about it again.. the system works!
Getting home isn't quite as easy, but I still always pay 120 roops. The tuk tuk stand is a part time dodgey little man hang out; often, nobody is there to take my money so I need to wave down an empty tuk. This doesnt take long, but it does mean explaining where I live, and while they try to bargain "150 sir, price of petrol high" I steadfastly say "120 or I walk". They always let me in.. but I don't get that 10 roop convenience discount.. bugger.
That's a picture of a tuk-tuk when I was in Usangoodya - looks like the outback, ey? Here's some pictures of tuk-tuk's I'm glad I don't need to catch. Doooooooooooooooooodge.
Tuk-tuk economics is a practical subject. It's all about avoiding being ripped off by dodgey little men in their motorbike cabooses. So arriving in Colombo, I've had to employ all my knowledge of Tuk Tuk Economics 101. First thing, find your local tuk tuk stand. Luckily here in SL, there's one every 12 meters with about four dodgey little men sitting around waiting to steal your money. But don't rush to make a deal with them.. that would be foolish. You need to stake out a bargaining position. So for the first three days of working in the new office from a new apartment, I took my street smarts to the street. Every day, there and back, bargaining and arguing and throwing tanties doing whatever it takes to get the best deal: they agree to 100 rupes (pr. Roops) occasionaly, but always bump it up at the end when they realise I am at the "other side" of Welawata. Minimum: 115. Maximum 150. 1 1-0 to street smart Bozza.
Aight.. time to bargain. So on Monday, I head to the tuk tuk stand in the morning.. as usual, four dodgey little men hanging out of tuk tuks waiting for their prey: bonus, I arrive, and I'm white stocked with roops that they reckon they can get their grubby little hands on. But no cigar: I'm well equipped with street smarts. "How much to Kirulapane" - they correct my pronounciation, 1-1 to the tuk tuk stand (even after two weeks they still correct me, obviously they don't realise we won the war and they speak English I don't speak Sinhalese). They try to charge me 150, but I aint havin' none of it. "Everyday, " (they love that word) "i will travel to work. Everyday". They ask me to jump in, but no price is settled. "I am not paying 150", "no problem".. yeah, 2-1 to my bank manager. We drive, I direct.. I know where to go, my street smarts is coming in handy already. I tell him a short cut, he likey very muchy, 3-1 to A-Z Colombo. We arrive at my workplace.. he stops. Assesses the drive and his imaginary tuk tuk calculator (based on distance, price of petrol, time of day, and a random variable that is positively correlated to the flavour of chupa-chup the shortest guy in China is sucking on); he quotes 125. We bargain, I start at 100, at which point he reminds me that the shortest guy in China is currently sucking a strawberry chupa chup - darn, 3-2 to Mao Tsu-Tung. I try 110, no cigaro. 120. "Okay, everyday?". Everyday. 120 roops to work. It's a draw, 3-3.
The next day, I head back to the tuk tuk stand, where four dodgey little men are waiting with their grubby little hands to get my money. But somethings different.. they wave me down from a distance. I acknowledge with a little hand movement. There's movement as one jumps in his tuk tuk and turns the engine on.. the other little man who took me yesterday directs me to get in; a different driver.. to worry? No. This country is a socialist democracy. They share me around like the rickshaw ho I am. When I get in, he pronounces correctly, "Kirulapane?", "Kirulapane". I never need to say another word.. right out the front of my workplace, he stops. What convenience.. that surely is worth 10 roops a day! But sadly, I only have a hungie.. "Tomorrow, I give you 20 more, ok?" I spatter out in my pidgeon English with a dodgey Sri Lankan accent that they seem to understand much better. "No problem". Next day, I pay 140 and never hear about it again.. the system works!
Getting home isn't quite as easy, but I still always pay 120 roops. The tuk tuk stand is a part time dodgey little man hang out; often, nobody is there to take my money so I need to wave down an empty tuk. This doesnt take long, but it does mean explaining where I live, and while they try to bargain "150 sir, price of petrol high" I steadfastly say "120 or I walk". They always let me in.. but I don't get that 10 roop convenience discount.. bugger.
posted by Byron&Emma at 9:49 PM
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