“Taxi Cab” meets “All in the Family”

ANKARA, Turkey — On a corner across from the Turkish prime minister’s grand residence lays the humble shed of what drives Ankara’s society: its taksiciler, or taxi drivers.

Like many big cities, Turkey’s capital depends on a mammoth fleet of taxis. Cars and gas are too costly for most citizens, which increases the demand for taxis. Hundreds of small taxi companies, each with their own taxi sheds or shacks, compete. Some are large, like those at airports. Most are just big enough for a card table and a few drivers.

“It’s kind of like being in a frat house,” says Jeff Turner, an American who spent several years in Turkey as a child and returned this year as a student researcher.

Inside the taxi stand near Turner’s corner, four drivers slammed down cards on a table in a complex card game. Downing several cups of tea each and sharing a cigarette or two, they laughed and chatted with each other through the night shift.

Turner says the taxi stands are often a strategic place for neighborhood information.

“They just sit there all day long,” Turner says. “They see who comes and who goes.”

Turner likened the taxi stands to a neighborhood water cooler. After disposing of several wine bottles near the taxi stand after a party, Turner was surprised but not offended when the taxi drivers asked whether he was, indeed, a tea-totaler as he’d earlier claimed.

Taxi receipts are neither constant nor plentiful, and overnight shifts can come away with less than 10 Turkish lira, or about $7. Customers are not always sympathetic.

“They bust their ass for very little,” adds Turner.

Ibrahim Corekci, 23, has owned his own taxi for five years. Corekci’s father drove for 40 years before quitting in 2006.

“I wanted to work,” says Corekci, a high school graduate. “If I could have gone to an American university, that would be different.”

Corekci works nearly 12 hours a day, seven days a week, except for major religious holidays.

"The money gets worse the longer you do this job,” Corecki says.

Still, Corecki said that he loves his job. His dream job, he said, would be working in the U.S. or for the Turkish government, the most competitive job market in Turkey. With no advanced degrees, Corekci’s realization of either dream is unlikely.

With not nearly enough jobs to support Europe’s youngest population, Turkey’s unemployment rate has climbed to 10.9 percent. Many college graduates are unemployed or underemployed.

Corekci grabs a wet rag and swipes his cab for 25 minutes at a time, several times a day.

“There are a lot of jobs here that wouldn’t be jobs in the U.S.,” Turner says. “And Turks take pride in the work.”

Although Corekci is unmarried, both his parents are alive, and he has three older sisters who have given him five nephews and four nieces. Corekci and the other drivers all say that their family is their top motivation.

“Family is more important than anything, it’s the world to me,” Corekci says. “I learned everything from my family.”

Corekci wanted to make sure Americans knew these feelings. After being asked what else he’d want to share, he said this:

“First, I say ‘Hello’ to them all," Corekci says. "Then, come to Turkey, and call me for a taxi."

Turner, our translator, shoots back, “But Ibrahim, there are 350 million people in the U.S.!”

“So what, let them come. I’ll take them all," Corekci counters.

This report comes from a journalist in our Student Correspondent Corps, a GlobalPost project training the next generation of foreign correspondents while they study abroad.