Whenever you step off the airplane in a new country, you are forced to throw all common sense aside and sacrifice your body and possessions to a complete stranger -- the taxi driver. From the moment you get inside his car, you become his.
Recently I took a taxi in Bali, where everyone learned to drive in a game center and the objective is to pass the car in front of you.
We've all experienced "that guy in back." You know the guy I'm talking about -- he's tailgating you and wants desperately to pass but keeps chickening out at the last moment. "That guy in back" makes you nervous, like someone looking over your shoulder.