“O’Hare?” asks the doorman. “Yes, O’Hare airport please,” I
answer. I have never quite figured out what a bellman does except for whistling
a cab and opening doors. I guess having a bellman is one of the criteria to be
rated as a five star hotel. I typically don’t stay in these hotels, but in this
case I had no choice as the meeting organizer paid the bill (direct), but if it
were me, I would have stayed one block down for $100/night less, without being
charged for breakfast, internet in my room and having a beer for a little less
than $10. A Yellow cab pulled up, and I for some reason don’t feel like tipping
the bellman as he opens the door, something does not feel right, more about
that later.
The driver, a young man obviously from Middle Eastern
heritage jumps out of the car, despite the fact that the temperature is below
zero, to assist me in loading my luggage. When taking off, I notice that,
unlike all other cab drivers in Chicago, he does not have a phone earpiece and
therefore is not continuously talking on his phone so I can have a conversation
with him. “Where are you from?” I ask. “From Morocco.” Not having been there
(yet), I have little in common, except for the memory of a photograph my mother
sent me many years ago. It showed her and her friend in front of a mosque she
visited in Morocco. I do find however that I have a lot in common with this
young man, as we both are emigrants, I have lived in the US for more than 30
years, he only for 9 months.
This young man left behind his parents and siblings, and a very
good job. He was doing technical phone support for HP and as the second
language in his country is French, because of its colonial history, he was able
to support customers in France and Canada. He was very experienced and
certified to support CISCO equipment, the gold standard in networking gear.
But, fate, or maybe destiny, caused him to be working as a cab driver right now
in the US. He told me his dream was to work in Canada, but he also signed up
for the lottery to get a work visa in the US, and to his pleasant surprise, he
got his ticket to the USA.
The first several months he stayed with friends and worked
in Moroccan restaurants to make a
living, after that he found a job for a valet
parking company at the same hotel I stayed at, and for the past few months he
was able to get a job as a cab driver. Driving a taxi allowed him more
flexibility with regard to working hours so he can study and get his
certification through a US certification agency, which eventually will allow
him to get back to his IT job. Despite his qualifications, experience, and
(Moroccan) certifications, US companies want US certifications. He also told me
that a cab driver only gets an O’Hare run from a bellman if they pay him $5.
This is in addition to the tips the bellmen get, which (he said?) would be
typically $300/day. Then I realized that this was the reason I did not tip the bellman
earlier.
My driver told me that he was homesick a lot, especially the
first few months, but never showed any of that to the people back home,
especially not to his parents. He is dreaming of the day that he gets his
certification and gets a job that he likes, which he was doing back home. I
wish I could employ him, as I am sure he would be a very capable and loyal
employee, but, as I am listening to him, I have no doubt that he will achieve
his dream and do very well eventually.
When I arrived at the airport, I felt like tipping him a
decent amount. He’ll need it to pay for his study. It is these kind of people
that makes the US what it is, unlike the people expecting kickbacks for doing
favors. We need more of these hardworking, motivated people who see this
country as the land of opportunity and follow the American dream.