Uber rides have long been more than transportation for me. Every ride surprises you because you never know which story awaits. That is why I began writing down some of these encounters. People who would otherwise never meet travel in the same direction for a few minutes, and they often open up with astonishing speed. Over the past three to four years, I have experienced 163 rides, and many of them revealed the diversity of our society. It is remarkable how many worlds can exist inside a single car, invisible next to each other and suddenly audible.
The Frenchman from Metz and the art of relaxed living
The first story began as soon as I stepped into the car. A driver greeted me so warmly it felt like we were old friends. “Bonjour Hari,” he said, and although his name sounded Arabic, his accent was unmistakably French. His father is French, his mother Algerian, and he grew up in Metz (France). Thirty years ago he moved to Wiesbaden and worked in a technical company until it closed two years ago. The severance pay was so generous that he and his German wife decided he no longer needed to really work. Today he drives Uber three times a week, from eight to fourteen, and cooks for his wife afterward. At fifty two, he leads a relaxed life and told me that I should not work myself to death because it is pointless. A man who understood what truly matters.
The Iranian IT specialist and the German reality
Shortly afterward I met an Iranian driver. It was a gray morning, and I was coming from the eye doctor. She told me quietly that she had separated from her husband and now lived in a women’s shelter with her son. Although she has lived in Germany for fifteen years and is an IT specialist, she receives no interview invitations. While her son is at school, she drives Uber. Her story shows how many well educated people with immigrant backgrounds work far below their qualifications. Somehow sad, and a loss of talent.
Pakistani drivers familiar conversations and radical views
Many drivers come from Pakistan. As soon as they hear that I have Indian roots, a familiarity emerges that only people from the subcontinent understand. We talk about politics, corruption, shared wounds and shared jokes. At the same time I encounter radical views that sometimes leave me speechless. Migration brings people together, and it also brings inner conflicts. These rides show what goes on in the minds of very different people and what works or fails in society. Something which needs real attention from the government.
The chef after COVID and the time in between
One driver was a trained chef who ran a successful restaurant until COVID destroyed everything. Now he drives Uber temporarily while he waits for the right moment to cook again. He dreams of opening a food truck and has many fusion dishes in his mind. Many rides tell stories of fate and transition. For many people Uber is a temporary phase, a way to bridge time. I wish him luck.
The Turkish English major and the sleepless nights
A Turkish driver, twenty four years old, came from a working class family. She wore a headscarf but said that she normally does not. She drives only at night because she cannot sleep. Although she has a degree in English literature, she has no job. Uber is her transition, her nightly rhythm, her attempt to outsmart time. These rides are a kind of therapy for her, a way to distract herself from anxiety and insomnia. I thought for myself that it is better she distracts herself with work than spirals into worry. But I hope she will find a fulfilling job.
The Greek musician and the music in the car
A Greek musician drives Uber during the day and listens to the songs he plays in restaurants at night. He thought I was Greek because my name is Hari. He played me his newest song and even sang something he had composed himself. I must say he has talent and the song sounded typical Greek.
The Senegalese driver and asylum as a new beginning
A Senegalese driver beamed as he told me that his asylum application had been approved. Now he works almost around the clock, saves money, and plans a trip home. His story shows that asylum is not always political persecution. Sometimes it is simply a new beginning. That too is part of today’s social reality and difficult to rectify.
The Afghan premium driver in the S-Class Mercedes
Once I was very surprised when a spotless S-Class Mercedes with an Afghan premium driver in a suit and tie pulled up. He looked like he was about to chauffeur a board member. I wondered if I had ordered something wrong. He said that he simply had no premium assignment at that moment and drove me as a regular. I asked him why wealthy people use Uber instead of special companies. His answer was clear. Even rich people are spontaneous. Luxury via an app exists only with Uber. A quick path to comfort and a convincing service. Made sense to me.
The Syrian driver and the car as home
A Syrian driver had decorated his car completely in Arabic. Music, apps and stickers created a small world of his own. When I got in, I was briefly in Syria. When I got out, I was back in Germany.
The Pakistani from London and Brexit
A Pakistani from London spoke such British English that I briefly felt as if I was in Camden Town. We talked about Brexit, which he supported of course, although he was moving to Germany to marry a German Pakistani woman. I felt a small contradiction that made me smile. Out of the EU, into the EU. Brexit to Breturn.
The wedding ride and the moment I stopped connecting
Recently we were on our way to a wedding. The driver was Pakistani. After a few sentences we were in the familiar Hindi Urdu mode. My Greek friend grinned and said that Hari is connected again. Then it turned out the driver had lived in Greece for many years. Suddenly the conversation switched to fluent Thessaloniki Greek. My friend beamed, the driver beamed, and I sat there like an extra who had lost his lines. The driver even wanted to grab a frappe with us, forgetting only that it was an Uber ride and not an afternoon coffee meeting among friends.
Uber rides abroad
Even abroad, the rides were fascinating. On a vacation in Croatia, a driver befriended us so quickly that we ordered him again and again over the next days. He showed us many beautiful places, told us about his life, and was simply a warm human being. When our return flight was delayed eight hours, he spontaneously took us to his home. The man was a former major in the ex-Yugoslavian army and now runs a kind of hobby farm. There he served us homemade bread, freshly pressed olive oil, and the best Croatian sausage I have ever eaten and the wine was exceptional. It was by far the best meal of the entire trip, fresh, honest, full of hospitality. We found it hard to say goodbye. In that moment I truly wondered whether he was our Uber driver or a Croatian friend.
The Cypriot on his last ride
In Bern, Switzerland, the ride turned into an unexpected adventure. Traditional taxis can also accept Uber requests there, and I was with an American friend who greeted the driver warmly. I translated his request for a good place in Bern, and the driver smirked while telling us it was his last day on the job. He was a Cypriot who had lost his wife to cancer the year before and was retiring that evening. He planned to move to Cyprus, enjoy the weather in a new apartment, and take his beloved Mercedes with him. During the ride he shared stories from forty five years behind the wheel and admitted that the new Uber system was not for him. It became an evening filled with stories, warmth and a heartfelt farewell.
A Kaleidoscope of Our Society
These rides show that you cannot generalize people. They reveal more about the diversity of our society than we realize. Migration is not a monolithic block but a kaleidoscope. Many of the people I met appreciate Germany, its freedom, safety and social laws, and at the same time they criticize the support systems and lack of opportunities. In the car, people often share more than they would at home. They open up within minutes, sometimes with heavy topics, sometimes with quiet confessions, and often with an honesty rarely seen in everyday life. Each ride is a small glimpse into another world. Rides within Wiesbaden or to Frankfurt often feel like short excursions, encounters you would never have on the street or in a café. At the same time, there are many rides where not a single word is spoken. That too belongs to the Uber world and is perfectly fine.
What remains after 163 rides
It still amazes me how quickly people can open up, how much trust can form in a few minutes, and how many aspects of life you see during a short ride. Quiet confessions, honest moments, small truths. In all these rides, I met only people with immigrant backgrounds. Without immigrants, there would probably be no Uber world. That too is a reality of today’s society in Germany. And the funny part is that this is going to continue and maybe I will see changes in the society just by having an Uber ride.
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