Taxi Driver: Soviet Moscow Style, 1962

From the Soviet Press, 1962.

By Leonid Dugan

TAXI DRIVERS must be a special breed of people. It's amazing how much alike they are, whether the cab you hail is on the Champs Elysée in Paris, Gorky Street in Moscow, or Broadway in New York. They're genial and chatty - will talk about anything under the sun. Your driver may be younger than you, but they have an air of sophistication, of having experienced life.

The hero of our story, Anatoli Lykov, lives in Moscow. Like his counterparts in busy metropolitan centers the world over, he has the characteristic features and traditions of his trade.

And like most of Moscow's drivers, he handles his car well. And, of course, he is an excellent guide. He knows every corner of the city and what's doing there. Want to see a new building project, the latest play, a football game? Just say the word. He'll discuss a recent soccer game or listen to your troubles with a sympathetic ear, with only an occasional glance at the meter.

A short haul or a long one - it's all in the day's work. Money is money, but people are more important, and certainly more interesting. A good cab driver, Anatoli will tell you, has to combine the talents of a chauffeur, guide, psychologist and even an ambulance doctor. There was the fare he picked up last week who had slipped and gotten pretty badly banged up. He had the man stretch out on the seat, made him comfortable, and rushed him to the hospital.

That's why Muscovites are so fond of their taxi drivers. They even have a popular song about the "green light of a taxi." Unfortunately, one doesn't see those "green lights" - for unoccupied - as often as one would like, especially on rainy evenings. Lately taxis have become very popular with the Muscovites. They are so much faster and more convenient than bus or subway, and the fares are not high. Up to a short while ago, the fare depended on the type of car; now there is a standard fare of 10 kopecks a kilometer - 16 cents a mile .

Different fates, different characters pass in succession before the taxi driver. So it is not surprising that he becomes a good "psychologist", a tactful and sympathetic person.

 I'm also an unofficial traffic inspector. It is sometimes necessary to caution drivers against speeding.

Two of my regular fares. I drive Svetlana to kindergarten and her mother to work at a designing office.

See also: Queen of the cabbies of Soviet Kiev, 1982