Street Cred

So, I get in my cab last week and get greeted with “yea I don’t travel without a weapon on me-o.” (awesome cab choice, Brehaung). The conversation continues with something about cab drivers and crashing and danger. “If it seem like bad ting will happen I can stab the driver and get out quick quick.” (I should get out quick quick, where’s a motorbike?) More about trips down to Broad Street (my neighborhood), sketchy cab drivers and then “I get out and hit the driver in his face.” By the end of the cab ride it’s just crazy woman and me. “Why don’t you move tis way.”(no I’m good over here, armed and dangerous). By the end of the ride, I get out, shake my head and say the only thing you can say at this point: “oh, Liberia.” This all happened right after Phil brought up street cred. Liberia, of all the places I could be gaining street cred. What gets me is that there are tons of expats around the world gaining equal street cred and having a lovely time. Where’s my CV shirt? On top of listing the places off in alphabetical order, I’ll group them by level of difficulty. Liberia should go in bold, maybe in a different color and in bigger font on the shirt, because let’s be honest, not ever street cred country should be treated equal. Heck not even every African country should be equal (because Africa is not one place).

Soon I’ll be lining up for jobs with a bunch of eager beavers who have earned equal street cred. I’m sorry, you were where? Beirut? Accra? Tunis? No. Not the same to me. Did you have decent electricity? Running water? How long can you go without a shower? Can you track down an ex combatant? How about a drug dealer? Stranded in the jungle in the rain? No. Revoking your street cred is pushing it, knocking it down a notch or 2…or 12, is fair. I’m not discrediting your time in Geneva, I’m just saying there should be a point system and you should get a 3. Oh you don’t speak French? You get a 4. Come back to me when your nurse thinks putting on gloves before drawing your blood is unnecessary.

ipal workers: I give you a 10.