When we first arrived in Spain and everything was new and overwhelming, the idea of getting a driver's license seemed as attainable as touching the stars from the top of Tibidabo; a lovely notion but no real chance of it happening. There were two basic reasons for this. First, even though the test was translated into English, EVERYONE said it was impossible, that the English translations were incredibly difficult to follow. Second, and most important, everyone said that the driving portion had to be done on a stick shift. I don't drive a stick shift. Once upon a time, in a kingdom far far away, (we'll call Freehold) I wanted to learn stick...turns out though, that the combined frustrations of my parents and myself was a nearly lethal combination so Automatic it was and ever shall be never having given a thought to possibly ending up in Europe where automatic transmissions are less economical since they use more gas, and no one drives them. Here it is, let's say, "some" years later and I no longer wished to learn how to drive a stick shift, especially on the hills here...in Spanish. So, it looked as if there would be no driver's license for me.
As it turns out though, Everyone, as is often the case, was wrong. You could take the test in a car with an Automatic transmission, apparently they stick an A on your license so you don't go about willy nilly renting and driving a stick shift. That is fine with me, Officer, I will be oh so proud of my A...since I have no intention of trying to drive a stick shift...did I mention the hills. (shudder) Armed with this new found determination to be a law abiding citizen I signed up for a class on how to pass the exam in English. The class is supposed to be two full weekends, the first being instruction and the second taking practice tests over and over again. And so began the comedy of errors that turned a two week endeavor into two months.
Our first Saturday, Eduardo, the instructor was sick with a stomach flu. That put us a day behind. No worries though, we could push the exam back a week and get an extra week of studying in before the exam. The class was a straight forward review of what we needed to know and then it was just practicing the tests to get used to the English that they used.
I was first scheduled to take the exam on February 1st. The day before I got a text saying they wouldn't let me take the test because my DNI was expired. (A DNI is like a residency card...our's expired last January, as in over a year ago, as in Spanish Bureaucracy is mind boggling in it's inefficiency) We gathered all the documents that stated we had reapplied and done all that we should and the instructor pulled strings and got me re-scheduled for February 2nd. So I resumed studying. Well, I tried but wasn't feeling well. Nerves, I thought...until about 11 pm Tuesday night when it became apparent that fever had set in that I had caught a stomach bug. There was no way I was taking the test the next morning. I had to get a doctor's note so they would reschedule me...and the earliest I could get in was February 14th. Happy Valentine's day to me.
The morning before I was scheduled to take the test, as before, I went to the school to take some practice exams where I learned once again, I was not on the list to take the exam. This was getting old, but it was what it was and there was little I could do about it but wait for Eduardo to figure out the problem and fix it. It turned out that when they initially refused my application because of the expired DNI, they created a duplicate folder of me as a favor to allow me to take the test on Wednesday. When I didn't show up, they then had two folders on me in the system...so they couldn't schedule me until they removed one. Eduardo removed the duplicate and I was rescheduled for Tuesday, March 1st.
On Monday I went for the third time into the school to study the day before the exam. This time I really was scheduled for the exam the next day at noon. Suddenly I had an image of myself walking down a deserted ghost town at high noon, spurs jingling with each foot fall....cue the western shootout music. Armed with only a pen and all my ID's, (I wasn't taking a chance they'd find a reason to kick me out) I sat down with my 30 questions...of which I could only get 3 wrong and still pass...and began. 30 minutes later, I emerged, unsure of 4 of my answers. The English translations were not that difficult. Eduardo assured me that 3 of the 4 were correct...(I decided to stop when I came across a man in a crosswalk with a green light instead of you know...killing him.) Eduardo said, "You Americans...slow down but keep going. You have the right of way, he'll get out of the way...or not." Later I received a text saying I passed!! I was so excited. I only had one wrong...so now I know...hit the pedestrian. OK, not really, I was supposed to slow down and take precautions....but without stopping.
Now all I have to do is convince a very nice Spanish man with a clipboard that I can drive...after a few more classes behind the wheel. But, I'm half way there. I'm half way to the stars.
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