I got out of the cab, and because its fairly dark out and hard to see, while I'm opening the door a biker runs into the door, denting and breaking it. It wouldn't close, and was squeaking to high heavens. Then the biker just runs away (and of course, I couldn't exactly chase after him screaming down the street in English). I'm freaking out, but oddly enough the cabbie isn't even that angry. I offer to pay the damages, and get a tow truck and the whole nine yards. After a broken attempt at communication, I finally phone my co-teacher who translates and tells me that cabbie is fine with me just leaving, and I don't owe him anything. SHOCK. Maybe its because my parents are lawyers, or because I'm, well, American but I completely expected to be sued by both the biker AND the cab driver. I was ready to cough up the next six months of paychecks, and eat salt and rice for the next year (weight loss, here I come!). Instead, I went on my merry way, and ate an extravagant dinner with Sam to make up for it!
Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore.
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