Death and taxes. Taxes and death. Taxed until you die. Perhaps we don’t remind ourselves enough of Benjamin Franklin’s words; that these are the only two true things certain in life. Hearing this as a teenager, I recall wondering what this cliche was really going on about.
死亡和税收。 税收和死亡。 纳税直到你死。 也许我们没有充分提醒自己本杰明·富兰克林的话；这是生活中唯一确定的两件真实的事情。 我记得在十几岁的时候听到这个，想知道这个陈词濫調到底是怎麼回事。
I know, I know. The innocence of youth.
我知道，我知道。 青春的纯真。
Taxis are invariably linked to taxes; they share a common etymology that dates back to the ancient Greeks. Indeed, the word taxis evolved from the Greek for tax; to place one’s affairs in a certain order. So much so that an orderly Greek march, a journey, was called a taxidi. Every time we Didi and Uber, use a driver and taxi, we are, in essence, harkening back to this ancient journey: a trip made, money paid. An inevitable tax.
出租车总是与税收有关；它们有一个共同的词源，可以追溯到古希腊人。 事实上，出租车这个词源于希腊语，意思是税收；将一个人的事务按一定顺序排列。 以至于有条不紊的希腊行军，一次旅程，被称为出租车。 每次我们滴滴和优步，使用司机和出租车，从本质上讲，我们都会回到这段古老的旅程：一次旅行，钱付了。 不可避免的税收。
Thus, when we enter a taxi, the certainty of a tax remains: there will be payment and, hopefully, an orderly journey; a tax.
因此，当我们进入出租车时，税收的确定性仍然存在：将有付款，希望有一个有序的旅程；一个税收。
Death is also a certainty; this we know as age continually creeps up, as the body starts to ache more and more, and the years somehow become quicker and quicken, blinking before us before we begin. We hope we can join in with John Donne arguing against our ageing, that we can call on Death to “be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so.” Sometimes, though, our taxes and our death; our wealth and our mortality; combine before they should: for me, it was during a taxi journey.
死亡也是一种确定性；我们知道，随着年龄的不断上升，身体开始越来越疼痛，岁月不知何故变得越来越快，在我们开始之前，在我们面前眨眼。 我们希望我们能与约翰·多恩一起反对我们的衰老，我们可以呼吁死神“不要骄傲，尽管有些人称你强大而可怕，因为你不是。” 然而，有時，我們的稅收和死亡；我們的財富和死亡；在它們應該結合之前：對我來說，那是在出租車的旅程中。
For the closest I have come to death is in a taxi. So close that at times, when the weariness of the current age rears its crazy head, I do wonder if, indeed, I have in fact, been propelled into another universe.
我最接近死亡的是在出租车上。 如此接近，以至于有时，当当今时代的疲惫抬头时，我确实想知道，我是否真的被推向了另一个宇宙。
Or perhaps I am in a time-warp and am still in the reality of a death-time-spiral; that death has kindly stopped for me and time-warped and all that has happened since is an imagining of a fevered brain. My faculties, though, seem sound; my loves and passions and vocation still seem alive, and I must conclude that this story of death and taxis was survived, for here I am; and yes, I still have tax to pay.
或者也许我正处于时间扭曲中，仍然处于死亡-时间螺旋的现实中；死亡对我来说已经仁慈地停止了，时间扭曲了，此后发生的一切都只是对发烧的大脑的想象。 然而，我的能力似乎很健全；我的爱、激情和天职似乎仍然活着，我必须得出结论，这个关于死亡和出租车的故事幸存下来，因为我在这里；是的，我仍然要交税。
This moment of collision occurred in a foreign land. 45 minutes of journey ahead, with raw emotions from a farewell party being our companions as we started the trip home. Our driver had arrived on time, in his 2007 slightly wonky car that is very much the Guatemalan norm. We buckled up and settled in for one of the great joys of marriage: the post-dinner chats and analysis of what was said, who was there, and which interesting interactions we observed and those we will dearly miss.
这个碰撞的时刻发生在异国他乡。45分钟的旅程，当我们开始回家时，告别派对的原始情感是我们的同伴。 我们的司机准时到达，他开着2007年略显摇摇欲坠的车，这非常是危地马拉的常态。 我们系好安全带，安顿下来，享受婚姻的最大乐趣之一：晚餐后聊天，分析所说的话，谁在，以及我们观察到的有趣的互动，以及那些我们将非常想念的互动。
There was snare up on the highway, and in a burst of Spanish, our taxi took a back route that showed flickers of lights echoing through many small, parallel crossings.
高速公路上有圈套，在西班牙语的爆发中，我们的出租车走了一条后路，显示闪烁的灯光在许多平行的小十字路口中回荡。
Continual crossing after crossing; no stop signs, no traffic lights, no hesitating. Tension seemed to rise inside; our chat stalled; we beat on through interchange after intersection, poorly lit stress, speed, road after road after road.
连续交叉；没有停车标志，没有红绿灯，没有犹豫。 内部的紧张感似乎在上升；我们的聊天停滞不前；我们在十字路口接踹地穿过交汇处，光线不足的压力，速度，一条又一条路。
Then, like the foreshadowed cliche it seemed to be, a black shark-like SUV emerged; speeding, jaws like, exceptionally quick in its death pursuit.
然后，就像预示的陈词滥调一样，一辆像黑鲨一样的SUV出现了；超速行驶，像下巴一样，在死亡追逐中异常快。
Another cliche came true; time stood still like we were paralysed by it. I can look back and understand how this cliche is rooted in the experience of the brain beginning to process the inevitable; the hurried prayer of greatest meaning, the speeding and slamming and stunning noise and shock break as the unavoidable drip of a reckless accident bears down on us.
另一个陈词滥调成真了；时间静止不动，就像我们被它麻痹了一样。 我可以回顾并理解这种陈词滥调是如何植根于大脑开始处理不可避免的事情的经验；具有最大意义的匆忙祈祷，加速和猛击以及惊人的噪音和电击，因为鲁莽事故不可避免的滴落向我们带来。
Thankfully, for our lives, it was classic T-Bone. Time returned to the dull ache of a second impact; noise, thump, grasping seatbelts, momentum, dazed, dizziness, crumpled. Glasses and phones flying.
值得庆幸的是，对于我们的生活来说，这是经典的T-Bone。 时间又回到了第二次撞击的沉闷疼痛；噪音、砰砰声、抓住安全带、动力、发呆、头晕、压痕。 眼镜和手机在飞。
In the immediate aftermath, I opened my eyes and was blind; which I stated to my dear Candi. She, with the heroism that defines her, realised that the more significant issue was that our destroyed car was still rolling down a hill; the unconscious driver, not wearing a seatbelt, had been flung to the passenger side; blood covering everything.
紧接着，我睁开了眼睛，失明了；我向我亲爱的坎迪说。 她带着定义她的英雄主义，意识到更重要的问题是，我们被毁的汽车仍在从山上滚下来；昏迷的司机没有系安全带，被甩到乘客一侧；血迹覆盖了一切。
In her courageous strength, Candi managed to PULL: the bloody driver; the emergency brake; the seatbelts loose for us; my senses together. My lack of sight was more due to my glasses being hurled than the reality of a concussion of blood; car stopped, sight found, red light bathing us.
凭借她勇敢的力量，Candi设法拉动了：血淋淋的司机；紧急刹车；安全带松动了我们；我的感官在一起。 我缺乏视力更多的是由于我的眼镜被扔了，而不是血脑震荡的现实；汽车停了下来，看到了视线，红光沐浴着我们。
It felt peaceful then. Like the ocean ripples had decided to breathe, and paradise was issuing forth glorious words: You Are Alive. Again, time played its tricks; 10 minutes flew past, I am sure, (a few seconds in real-time more likely) before a wave of noise started as a local bar emptied onto a street. Banging on doors, slurred shouting in Spanish, bashing windows…
那時感覺很平靜。 就像海洋的涟漪决定呼吸，天堂发出光荣的话语：你还活着。 再一次，时间发挥了它的把戏；我确信，10分钟过去了，（实时几秒钟更有可能），当当地的酒吧倒在街道上时，一波噪音开始。 敲门，用西班牙语含糊不清地喊叫，砸窗户……
está bien? está bien?
你好吗？ 你好吗？
Never before had I even thought what it would be like to be a casualty of an accident; indeed, it felt like I was again an on-looker, rubbernecking at a car that no one should have walked out of alive, seeing flashing lights and hurried paramedics doing patch-ups and whisking drivers away as a crowd slowly withdrew.
我以前甚至从未想过成为事故的受害者会是什么感觉；事实上，感觉我又是一个旁观者，看着一辆没有人应该活着走出来的车，看到闪烁的灯光和匆忙的护理人员在修补，在人群慢慢撤退时把司机赶走。
And then, the question; what does one do when their taxi is no longer a taxi? In the dead of night, in a foreign country, with no ease of language? A night of farewells in many ways, and we were overcoming our shock and about to call our friends when a well-meaning paramedic called an Uber for us.
然后，问题是；当他们的出租车不再是出租车时，一个人该怎么办？ 在夜深人入，在异国他乡，语言不通？ 在许多方面，这是一个告别之夜，我们正克服震惊，正要给朋友打电话时，一位善意的护理人员为我们叫了一辆优步。
Soon, we were in a taxi again, on another journey home, only 15 minutes of streets to go. Yet the world had changed. Every crossing, every corner, every brake felt like a world ending.
很快，我们又坐上了一辆出租车，又在回家的路上，只有15分钟的路程。 然而，世界已经改变了。 每一个十字路口，每一个角落，每一个刹车都感觉像是世界末日。
Home at last, death-like hug expressing how close we had come to losing that most valuable, and as tears started, an acknowledgement that it was purely through Grace that we both were not only alive but avoided any life-altering injury. Yet, as the days became a week, the world stayed changed; the assessment of the taxing journey of our lives and the meaning we find in the day-to-day journey from taxes to death. It was, thankfully, an affirmation that the odyssey where we come alive is more often than not found in the classroom where we practise our craft.
终于到家了，死亡般的拥抱表达了我们多么接近失去最宝贵的生命，当眼泪开始时，承认纯粹是通过恩典，我们俩不仅活着，而且避免了任何改变生活的伤害。 然而，随着日子变成一周，世界一直在变化；对我们生活的征税旅程的评估，以及我們在每天从税收到死亡的旅程中找到的意义。 值得庆幸的是，这证实了我们栩栩如生的奥德赛往往在我们练习手艺的教室里。
So, now, as the story ends, it is time for an inevitable brief public service announcement: the “self help” and obvious things to do that we somehow forget about when using a taxi. We get into a car whose physical safeties are foreign, with a driver we do not know, trusting the app is going to lead to a destination and that we can pay, a tax, on a safe arrival. Perhaps we are too blasé about this: daily in and out of taxies without the consequential thoughts. So yes, always wear a seatbelt. Always! And yes, activate trip tracking for family and friends, and share a location, and let people know your plans, especially in a foreign land. Have your medical card printed and perhaps available in your phone cover (as, I mean, who carries a wallet in China).
所以，现在，随着故事的结束，是时候发布一个不可避免的简短的公共服务公告了：“自助”和我们在乘坐出租车时莫名其妙地忘记了的显而易见的事情。 我们上了一辆人身安全是外国的汽车，有一个我们不认识的司机，相信应用程序会通向目的地，我们可以在安全到达时支付税款。 也许我们对此太平淡了：每天进出出租车，没有后果的想法。 所以，是的，总是系好安全带。 总是！ 是的，激活家人和朋友的旅行跟踪，共享位置，并让人们知道你的计划，特别是在异国他乡。 打印你的医疗卡，也许可以放在手机盖里（我的意思是，在中国谁会带钱包）。
Even contemplate the first person to call and what you would do in an emergency, as when it happens, it is good to pre empt the instinctual.
甚至考虑第一个打电话的人，以及在紧急情况下你会做什么，因为当事情发生时，先发制人是好事。
Between writing that last sentence and this, I used a Didi to commute. Any lingering trauma is long disrupted and dispersed after the first few weeks of the accident’s aftermath. Yet the thought of the experience remains. We never found out how our driver recovered. Life is precious, the journey is more important than the destination, and I am still fortunate to be working in the passion where I can become truly come alive.
在写最后一句话和写这句话之间，我用滴滴来上下班。 任何挥之不去的创伤在事故后的头几周后都会长期受到干扰和分散。 然而，对经历的想法仍然存在。 我们从未发现我们的司机是如何康复的。 生命是宝贵的，旅程比目的地更重要，我仍然很幸运能在激情中工作，在那里我可以真正活过来。
This taxi trip caused the reflection that can define a life, and the reality that Death and Tax and Taxis will be with us for certain, but not forever. We can instead keep the hope of the dream that Tolkien shared: of our own taxi journey of a life of purpose, and that our lives of a grey rain-curtain will one day turn all to silver glass and be rolled back, and we will behold white shores and beyond them a far green country under a swift sunrise.
这次出租车之旅引起了可以定义生命的反思，以及死亡、税收和出租车肯定会与我们同在的现实，但不是永远。 相反，我们可以保留托尔金分享的梦想的希望：我们自己的出租车之旅，有目的的生活，我们灰色雨衣的生活有一天将全部变成银色的玻璃，并被卷回，我们将在快速的日出下看到白色的海岸和它们之外的遥远的绿色国家。