Ever since I first came to Japan in August, I’ve heard people talking about how impossibly hard it is for foreigners to get their driver’s licenses in Japan. For a couple of months, all that talk just went in one ear and out the other, because I figured I’d just be here for a year and could use my international permit until then. No problem. I didn’t need a license.
But then I decided to stay for another year, and despite whatever strings I thought I could pull, I discovered that I actually couldn’t drive for two years on an international permit, even if I got it renewed when I go back to the States this summer. It’s a one-year deal in Japan. So, if I wanted to drive legally in this country for the 2011-2012 JET year, I was going to have to get my Japanese driver’s license.
I kept reminding myself all through February and March, “Jaimie, get your license. Get your license,” thinking of all those “it-took-me-six-months-to-get-mine” horror stories I’d heard. “Oh, I’ve got time, I’ve got time,” I threw back, wondering why I always repeat things twice when talking to myself.
In May, though, I got serious. My international permit would expire on July 31. Time was not on my side anymore. So I started reading blogs, the Gunma JET site, and any other website my friends would send me, trying to get ready.
The process in Japan is a little bit different from in the States. Back home, when I was 16, I took a summer driver’s ed course in high school, took the written test, took the driving test on a real road (OK, so I failed it twice, but hey, I was 16), and that was that. Renewing it has been easy: just a trip to the local DMV, answer a few questions, get a bad photo taken, and voila! License to drive. Now that you can’t drive till you’re 18, I don’t know how the process works, but that was my experience back in 1998.
Here, most Japanese people spend something like $3,000 on a rigorous driving school. They take these classes for six months, take a 50-question written test, take a closed-course driving test, and then they’re good to go.
Foreigners only have to take a 10-question written test (that a moron could answer) and the closed-course driving test (which is what everyone fails repeatedly).
I first started this process on Thursday, May 12. The Saturday before, I had gone to the practice course in Takasaki to see what I was up against. I drove it a few times; it didn’t seem too bad. So I walked into the DMV feeling pretty confident that I’d pass the first time.
But I didn’t even get through the door that day! The stern-looking man behind the counter took a look at all my papers, identification cards, passport, NC license, alien registration card and the duly-made copies of all of them, and determined them to be insufficient proof that I had had my driver’s license for the requisite three months before coming to Japan.
The last license I got was in 2007. It doesn’t expire till 2015. But they wanted to make a big deal of the fact that I had traveled outside of the U.S. in 2008, 2009, and 2010. I had stamps for all of my travels but one, where Immigration had scanned my passport instead of stamping it. Because of that one missing stamp, I was sent home in a huff on the first day with an order to bring back more proof.
What I brought back the next Tuesday was an English-speaking Japanese teacher from my school. I explained (with her interpreting) that the DMV was just being stupid, that if I got my license in August and didn't travel until the following July, and then went in and out of the country a few more times, that I was obviously residing legally in the United States, and that I was driving the whole time, and don’t be nit-picky. Of course I said all of this deferentially and politely. And it worked.
My interpreter left, and I took the paper test alone in a room with a less-stern-than-the-other-guy officer guarding me. The questions were like: “If the traffic light is green, but a police officer is standing in the middle of the road with his arms out, must you stop?” Or, “Is it OK to drive after you drink just a little alcohol or take just a few drugs?” You answer by putting a large O in the box if it’s correct, and an X if it’s wrong. I passed 8 out of 10, which could have been due to the poorly translated English, the double negatives that I thought too much about before answering, or because I just didn’t know (ha).
I waited in the lobby for about an hour before I was told to go down the hall to the practice course. “Look, but don’t go outside,” I was warned. So I went down the hall and into another wing, which looked down on the course. This is a picture of it:
That day, it was me and about 10 or 12 other foreigners from all over the world: China, the Philippines, Nepal, Bangladesh, Brazil. I talked to a couple of people and was slightly shocked that some were there for their 8th or 9th go. So it’s true what they say about foreigners taking forever.
Talking to the other drivers (in a lovely mix of English and our bad Japanese), I realized that the driving test has nothing to do with your actual driving ability. What it is about is following the rules to a T. Just to move a few feet, you have to follow these steps exactly in order, or you lose points:
1) Inspect the car from the outside before getting in.
2) Look both ways before opening the door.
3) After you get in, a) adjust your seat, b) adjust the center mirror, c) put on your seatbelt, d) check your mirrors, e) put the car in Drive, f) release the emergency brake.
4) Put on your right turn signal. Look in your right mirror. Look behind your shoulder. Pull out and go.
I wonder how many people actually follow these steps when they drive every day. For the test, though, you have to know these rules! If you turn on your turn signal a second later than they want you to, or if you don’t brake three times when slowing down from 50 km/hr, or any number of tiny details, you lose points. And if you do something really stupid like hit a curb during the crank or the S, you automatically fail.
After everyone takes the test, you all go back to the lobby and wait for the officer to come out. He holds up a big whiteboard with numbers written on it. If your number is there, you passed. If your number isn’t there, you didn’t.
I thought I drove OK that first day, but obviously I didn’t. Only one person passed.
The second time I came back, I thought I’d be all right. I did all my preparations and was going OK, until I came to the S curve. I hit the curb. Automatic fail. My new Spanish-speaking Brazilian friend Ana (whom I met that first day) got her license, though, and I was happy for her.
The third time’s the charm! But after we all congregated in the lobby after taking the test, the officer came out empty-handed. “Kyo imasen,” he said. (Today, there’s nobody.)
I was beginning to think I’d never get that damn thing. I’d already gone to the practice course twice (and spent 150 bucks on it). I was tired of failing and tired of trying. I was also mad because they don’t tell you what you do wrong during the test! They just pass or fail you without letting you know what you need to improve on. When you ask, they say, “This is a test, not driving school. If you want to know how to improve, go to driving school.” Ouch.
A few days after my third try, I went to Maebashi to meet with a girl who had taken the test 11 times. She gave me a detailed course printout with copious notes and a lot of great pointers on what to do during the test. I left thinking maybe I could do it in less than ten.
On Thursday, June 2, I went back for the fifth time (fourth driving). There were only four of us that day: two college-aged boys from Shanghai and a graduate-student from Nepal. We chattered away in an English/Japanese mix, with one Chinese boy interpreting for his friend. We were all fairly confident we’d all fail, especially the Nepalese guy, who had been told as soon as he walked in that he wouldn’t pass. “It’s only your second time,” he was told. “There’s no way you’ll get it.” What if he’d have driven it perfectly, though? Would they fail him just because he hadn’t had enough experience? Do they just want you to spend a lot of money?
The English-speaking Chinese boy went first, with his friend and me in the backseat. It was his first time, and you could tell. He seemed unsure of the course and didn’t know quite what to do. He left the car door open when he got out, and didn’t put the E brake on like you’re supposed do.
Then it was my turn. I did all my preparatory work, checking my mirrors and adjusting my seat and all that, then pulled out onto the course. As I drove, I counted mentally the hateful sound of the officer’s pen striking the paper, as he marks off mistakes. It seemed an awful lot. As I rounded the last curve to go back to start, he started scribbling even more onto his paper. “Great, just great,” I thought. “Well, maybe next time.”
But lo and behold, when the four of us congregated in front of the counter like beggars waiting for a scrap of bread, the officer held up a sign with the number 5 scrawled on it. That was me! I couldn’t believe it for a second. Then I did a little jump and a little dance and blew kisses at the officer (SO un-Japanese of me!). Since he was the kindly man, not the mean one, he smiled and wasn’t offended. He walked me through some paperwork and told me to come back soon to get my picture taken and the real license issued.
Today is Sunday. I go back tomorrow afternoon for the last time, and I will walk out with a real Japanese driver’s license! I’m still not exactly convinced I need a car next year. . . I wonder if I could save my 25,000ish yen a month (about what I spent just to get the license) and save it instead. But am I really disciplined enough to bike or take the bus all the time, everywhere? At least, now that I actually have a license, I can make that decision myself and not have it be made for me.
By the way, I was Skyping with my mom this morning, and my stepdad stepped in just to say, “Hey, I was reading in the Japanese papers this morning: ‘American Finally Gets Driver’s License.’” Thanks for giving me a good title! :)
