Home > Personal > Driver’s License Chronicles, Part 5

Driver’s License Chronicles, Part 5

It had been almost a month since my last trip to the Menkyo center in Kaihinmakuhari to fail the practical driving test, but going there again on Friday still felt like routine. The only difference was I had work in the morning, whereas every other time I’d gone had been on a day off. I greatly preferred this circumstance, as the Menkyo center trip didn’t cost me a holiday but merely an afternoon sitting in the teacher’s room of K-chu doing nothing. Also, teaching a couple of successful lessons at H-sho in the morning made it a good day regardless of what would happen in the afternoon.

I woke up early and decided to go for a run in the morning so I wouldn’t have to bother with it in the afternoon. Success.

I taught a fifth-grade class “I’m from ~” and they greatly enjoyed the games and activities. Success.

In order to accommodate my need to get to the Menkyo center on time, H-sho combined both 20-student sixth-grade classes into one giant 40-student class so I could do my lesson for both and leave after third period. I had to alter the plan a bit, but it worked out well. Rather than having the class arrange the alphabet on the blackboard and then having them try to beat their own time, I pitted one class against the other and had them try to beat the other class’s time. One class won the uppercase battle, and the other won the lowercase. The students loved it. Success.

After third-period I had just enough time to ride home and drop off my computer and excess baggage so I wouldn’t have to lug it around with me all afternoon, stop at the 7/11 to pick up a snack for lunch, and get to the train station with time to spare. Success.

I made it to the Menkyo center with no trouble at all, as by now I know the train and bus routine so well as to be able to sleep-walk through the whole journey. Success.

So by the time I got there, I figured I’d already chalked up enough successes on the day that one little failure wouldn’t bother me too much. On top of that, I now know what the consequences of failure are, and they’re not bad at all. I have to work up a sweat on the way to work four days a week, but that’s no big deal. And on Wednesdays I have to pay for a taxi to M-sho and walk home from K-chu, but the cost of the cab-ride four days a month is less than a monthly lease of a car anyway and the walk home from K-chu is a doable 45 minutes. The worst consequence of another failure is simply having to bother with the whole annoying process of going to the Menkyo center and taking the test yet again.

I got there just as the booths were opening up after the lunch break, and immediately spotted my Tunisian friend at the front of the line. He asked me about why I failed last time and I told him about my left turns not being tight enough for our super-strict lady proctor. He agreed that she was definitely too strict and wished me better luck this time. I thought I’d see him again in the waiting room for the test-course but that was not to be. Apparently he was there for something else that day, or perhaps he’d taken the test in the morning and was still there for some reason. Who knows?

In the test-course waiting room I didn’t even bother going through the course in my head again like every other time. I just took out my Kindle and did some reading, just wanting to get this over with and go home. A Chinese guy sitting next to me attempted to talk with me about the test, but he spoke no English and I speak no Chinese so we could only use our limited Japanese to communicate. I found out it was also his fourth time, and we managed to explain to each other why we’d failed our previous tests.

Our proctor was the first to enter, and while I was immediately relieved that it wasn’t the woman, this guy seemed just as strict and no-nonsense as her. I was hoping for the guy I had the first time, who seemed the friendliest out of all of them and might very well have passed me had I not driven up on the curb in the S-curve. No such luck. This guy just told us the order we’d be going in, explained that the test was very difficult and recommended that we all go to driving school. He didn’t walk us through the course map and explain the rules about backing up in the crank and S-curve like the other proctors had. He was in and out in two minutes.

I finished the chapter I was reading, and very soon after the vehicles were brought around and I went outside. I was to go second again, so I’d be riding in the back while the first person took the test. This time it was a Filipino woman who was taking the test for the second time. We didn’t exchange many words before getting in the car, but I wished her luck.

I could tell she was going to fail pretty early on. She wasn’t staying nearly left enough as she drove around the course perimeter, and she almost missed the right-turn onto the center road. The proctor had to point it out to her as she was driving past it, so she had to come to an abrupt stop and make the turn well past the turn-marker. She did come to a full stop at the stop sign at the end of the road, but forgot to signal her left turns until she was already making them. I was surprised that he didn’t fail her before the crank, but he let her get to it. At first it seemed like she really knew what she was doing, as she made the sharp right-turn like a pro, doing it surprisingly quickly and not hitting the poles. But as soon as she got to the left turn I knew she’d miscalculated and the back wheel was going to hit the curb. Indeed, she not only hit the curb but drove right up over it. Instant fail. She took the car back to the dock and then it was my turn.

Here we go again. I check under the back and front of the car like every other time. Get seated, adjust the seat, the mirrors and all that. Same old routine. I feel like I’ve done this a hundred times already, not merely three. Of course as I take my foot off the break and start to pull out I realize I forgot to disengage the emergency break, but the proctor doesn’t write anything on my sheet so I assume it doesn’t matter.

I don’t bother verbalizing my actions this time. I just make all of my mirror-checks and head-turns as blatant as possible. All I say is “hai” to the proctor’s instructions, all of which I know before he says them. As I make my way around the perimeter I’m only half-focused on the course, thinking about this morning’s lessons and how well they went.

At the right-turn I make sure to get as close to the center lane as possible and make the turn without incident—no other vehicles are coming the other way. It’s not until I get to the series of left-turns before the crank that the proctor starts writing on my sheet. What could he possibly be writing? I’ve done everything perfectly so far. I suppose it’s still just not perfect enough.

At the entrance to the crank I move to the right to reduce my chances of hitting the curb on the way in like I had the second time, and I notice him writing something but I make it in without any trouble, do the right-turn perfectly, and make the left-turn only having to back up once. I’ve got the whole crank thing down.

More easy stuff, then it’s the S-curve. I move to the right again at the entrance to get in a good position to not hit the curb at I drive through it, and for the second time I make it through the S-curve without needing to back up at all, though I make sure to excessively check my mirrors like a paranoid schizophrenic throughout.

The proctor doesn’t tell me to head back to the dock before finishing the course, so that’s a good sign but I was able to finish the previous two times as well and still failed. As I make the final turn into the dock, my old instincts kick in and I accidentally engage the windshield wipers a second before remembering the blinker is on the other side. The proctor doesn’t write anything though, so either that’s not something you lose points for or I’ve already failed and it makes no difference. I park the car, the woman riding in the back gets out, and I prepare to accept my fate.

The proctor speaks in Japanese with a few English words thrown in here and there. “This time was okay” he says. “Okay?” I repeat. What does that mean? “Yes, it was okay,” he says making the OK hand-gesture. He says a few things in Japanese I don’t understand but assume it’s about how I drove well. Then he says, “demo” which means “but”. Of course.

He explains that at the entrance to the crank and S-curve I shouldn’t have moved to the right because there could have been bicyclists or something. I’d blatantly checked the right mirror before doing so for that very reason, but apparently it didn’t matter. I should have just taken the turn from where I was, even though that makes it much harder not to hit the curb. I accept his advice with humility, and wait for him to jot down that awful “fail” kanji (不) on my paper.

But he doesn’t hand me back my paper. He tells me to wait. Confused, I get out of the car and walk towards the other people there. “You passed?” the Filipino woman asks me. “I don’t know,” I say. He didn’t tell me I passed (at least I don’t think so—I’m not sure what ‘you passed’ is in Japanese) but he didn’t hand me back my paper and he’d told me to wait. The other test-takers tell me this probably means I passed, and they congratulate me. I realize that I probably had passed—otherwise he would have given me my paper so I could go make a new appointment—but I’m not quite ready to start celebrating. Not until I know for sure.

The Filipino woman is waiting behind for her friend—the woman going after me—to finish the test, and she asks me if I could give her any pointers on how to make it through the crank. I take her to the map and walk her through the procedure, and she’s surprised to learn that you’re allowed to back up three times. The proctor hadn’t explained that this time, much to her unfair disadvantage. But she was very grateful to me for telling her, and we got to chatting a bit as we waited for her friend to finish the test.

I get to know the other test-takers a bit better. All of them have been in Japan longer than me and have been driving with an international license. They only need a Japanese license because the rule has changed and you can only use an international license for a year. The only other American to go had been renewing her international license for years every time she goes back to Arizona, which you’re not supposed to do. It was also her fourth time on the test and she ended up failing because her left-turns weren’t tight enough, a frustration I told her I knew all too well.

After all of them had left, I sit in the waiting room and eventually the proctor enters and calls my name. He tells me what I now need to do to get the driver’s license, and it is thusly confirmed. Success.

All that remained was the long slow process of getting the actual license. I first had to go to Window 2 to pay for the license, which costs 2050 yen, just slightly less than the 2200 yen cost of taking the driving test. Then it was back to Window 10 to give them the stamps indicating I’d paid. Waited there for awhile, then was taken to another room to go to another window and fill out another form. Waited there for a long time, then was given a receipt for the license and told where to go next. Got my photo taken, then waited outside in the hallway for a very long time hoping I was in the right place and they hadn’t forgotten about me. While I waited, the woman proctor from my last two tests hurried by. I would have liked for her to stop and take note of the fact that I’d passed, but she didn’t acknowledge me. A short while later, a man came out from the back room with my license and a paper with instructions for how to renew it after a year. He explained a bunch of things in Japanese which I pretended to understand (I can find out anything I need to know through Interac), then he gave me my long-awaited license. I took a quick iPhone photo of it for Facebook, then inserted it into my wallet.

On my way back home I called Interac to let Takahashi-san know that I’d passed and got the license. She sounded happy for me, congratulated me, and told me she’d send me an e-mail about getting me a car as soon as possible.

I happened to be riding the train back to Togane at the same time as most high school students journey home, so I had the nice bonus of seeing some of my Togane Chu students who graduated last year. I ran into a lot of them at Togane Station and proudly showed off my new license.

I still haven’t got an e-mail from Takahashi-san, but I assume I’ll be taken somewhere by an independent contractor to get a car one afternoon this week, as I have no lessons on any afternoon. I have M-sho on Tuesday though, so if it doesn’t happen tomorrow I’ll have to cab it one more day. If it does, I’ll be driving to work in Japan for the first time ever in just two days. I’m a bit nervous about driving on these super-narrow windy roads, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it quickly enough.

I’m actually not nearly as happy about being able to drive as I am about not having to go back and take the driving test again. I still don’t really want a car, but I know I’ll be glad to have one to drive to work when it’s really hot and humid or when it rains. It’ll also be convenient in many other ways, some I probably don’t even realize yet. But the experience-factor is probably the best thing, as driving in a foreign country where they drive on the left side of the road is a pretty cool experience to have.

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