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2004-06-25 - 5:12 p.m.

The Fucking Japanese Version of the DM-fucking-V

AKA: Wow, look at all those curse words...

Today is what everyone can call a really fucking long day.

The junior high I work at is having the semester finals this week, sort of. The first day was today, the second of Monday, so, technically, those two days are days off for me.

Not so technically, I still have things to do one these two days, especially since my international driver's permit is going to expire next month.

Note: To drive in Japan, and in most other countries around the world, US driver's license holders must get an international driver's permit that pretty much translates their license in several languages so the the local authorities know what's up. These are readily avaible for $10 US at your local AAA. Just bring a photo. They are valid for a year. (I'm writing all this because you would not be how long it took me to know this. No one has a decent guide saying even this much...

Well, my year is almost up, and I can't just get a new one because the police will just look at my alien registration card, see that I've been in town lot longer than the permit says, and the jig will be up.

What I must do, you see, is transfer my good ol' Jersey license to a Japanese one. Not a hard process: just get some stuff together, take a couple of tests, pay 2400 yen ($20-something US) along the way, and you're done.

Ha.

HA!

I ran around like a retard the first half of the day, trying to get everything together: passport, license, registration card, photos, a certificate from Town Hall, and a translation of my license from the Japan Automobile Federation. JAF.

I drive to Town Hall, only to realize I left my wallet at home. The pictures were horrible, and just 'GOD!'

Inconviences that just were preludes to the real shit.

Did I mention I don't like DMV back home? Most people don't. Now try to imagine a stricter, more uptight beauracracy.

It took me an hour or so to drive to that woe-begotten place from the town hall. Through a city. I hate driving in cities. No matter how small they are.

At the DMV, I had to wait a bit. (Everyone was at lunch). At 1pm, I head in and my shit dealt with. All those pieces of paper looked over and verified with my documents. Lots of stamps. And the 2400 yen revenue stamps stuck on.

Then the eye test. Then the written test. Which, by the way, consisted of just ten trick questions. Just ten, all of them trying to trick you.

That, of course, wasn't the hard part.


Here we break for a mini-comment on the Japanese way giving licenses.

Back in the day, when oil was too expensive and parking space was scarce, the goverment thought it would be a really keen idea to make getting a driver's license a hard, costly affair.

Japanese wanna-be drivers must go through a terribly strict, almost impossible written and driving test before they can get the laminated piece of paper.

They can avoid part of this by going to expensive driving schools, where they learn all the basics. At a price. For two weeks worth of classes, you learn everything, take a written and a driving test, and are ready to take on the DMV.

The DMV, of course, will make you take the written test again, but if you go this way, they waver the horrific driving test.

Now we'll return to our regularily schedules rant


And what the fuck is up with that intersection with no stop signs or lights or anything anywhere! Are these people insane!

Sorry.

After the written, we foreigners get a briefing on what's expecting us out there on the driving course.

(To be truthful, I was glad they provide cars for the tests, but that was before I was them. Compared to the little thing I drive, they are massive boats, complete with a drake for the tester.)

I tried it. In fact, I was first. Lucky number 20.

I failed halfway through it. Once I gained enough points that makes it impossible for me to pass, he said it was over, and I had to turn back.

Shit, okay. That intersection should NEVER EVER exist any-fucking-WHERE!!!

So I have to go back. On Monday. At 8. In the morning. So I can fail again, no doubt.

But that failure really got to me. It was 3:15 when I finally left the DMV (which is not called the DMV in Japan, of course, but fuck it). I became so depressed I actually turned to FOOD.

Jesus! Actually McDonald's FOOD.

PS. That McGrand was pretty good.

After that, Baskin Robbins ice cream. Rocky Road and Cookies-n-Cream. (Okay, I've wanted Baskin Robbins for a while now. I really wanted Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, but they didn't have any.)

In any case, tdoay, though not wasted, was a disaster. A disaster I may have to repeat on Monday at 8 or so where I'm going to have to pay 2400 yen (again) to fail my driving test (again).

And I can just hear my mother saying, 'Well, no one's perfect Ileana. Don't worry.' Yeah, but she hasn't tried this course yet.

Ooh, a long one.

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