Q: How Long Does it Take to Get Into Your First Fender-Bender in Yerevan?

A: 16 days.

Unfortunately, this question that RaeJean and I have been kicking around since before we got the car was answered for us this morning by a local taxi driver. As I’m pulling out of the garage and onto our street I move into the right turn lane, which quickly fills up behind me with other morning commuters. Two or three car lengths in front of me I notice a taxi—given that our street is home to strip clubs, banks, government buildings and a few taxi companies there are normally a lot of them. I also notice that he is backing up, so I don’t proceed forward. Then I notice that he is accelerating. Backwards. Towards me.

I honk. He keeps driving backwards. It is not uncommon in Yerevan to see cars drive backwards for blocks at a time. And, since my only other option is to back into the SUV behind me I continue to honk. He speeds up. I press both my hands on the horn, swear for good measure, and brace for impact.

Crunch.

The taxi driver emerges from his Lada smoking a long, thin pink cigarette, astonished to learn that there was ever a car behind him. Maybe he’s deaf and that’s why he didn’t hear the prolonged honking and screaming despite the fact that he had his window down. Or maybe he would have seen me if each of his windows, including the rear window, were not tinted to the point that light cannot penetrate or escape their surface. Whatever the status of his other sensory capabilities, it’s readily obvious that there is nothing wrong with his vision as his eyes widen upon noticing that he has just rammed into a car with diplomatic plates. He pulls his car slightly forward, takes a look and fans his arms saying, “Everything is normal!” And it is normal. For us. In the process of denting his vehicle, Reba’s bumper got a smudge on it.