Guantanamo Bay? How about Japanese Driving Center...

Drivers test today. How did I do? Please read on.

It was a long, difficult day at the Nagaoka licensing center, so this will be a long post worthy of a day at the DMV. 7 HOURS straight for about 9 minutes of testing. Blah...

To start, one thing that was revealed to me was the blatant discrimination towards foreigners throughout beaureucratic processes like these, and I know this sounds overdramatic, but it was one of the most segregated and gulag-like things I've been subjected to in a long time. Let me describe a bit of the day to you...

Started with leaving Tokamachi at 7:30 AM for the hour drive to the city. It was dark, and pouring rain, with the occasional lightning bolt for atmosphere. Got to the center, crossed many rows of frowny-face employees, and waited in line for a while to figure out what to do...turned out once we got to the front, we were turned away and told to wait in the corner because we were not Japanese. "Foreigners will go last after all Japanese are done" was the explanation, after being one of the first in line. So, after waiting for quite a while, we were put in our own special line and given our own special papers. There were five of us...Nate and I, plus a men's club hostess from the Phillipines and a couple ladies from somewhere else. After the Japanese all cleared out, we were shuffled into a barren white room with a grumpy man in a blue police suit. This is where we had to try to complete a 10 question written test in "English", with a guidebook fostering some of the worst Japanese-English translations I've seen in a while. Thank Buddha for those pictures.

"No pencil? You no bring pencil? HERE. Fill blanks. BLAH BLAH BLAH." Something like that came out of the proctor's mouth.

Finished the written test, which was ridiculous in how such completely easy questions were actually made difficult by the perfect vagueness abound in the translations. Had to wait another long while for the results, and when Blue Suit Man came back, he tossed the results into two piles and we had to make two little groups...sort of staring at each other not sure which was pass and which was fail. Not surprisingly, the two non-Philipino women who spoke neither Japanese or English failed the test, and me, Nate and the pseudo-hooker passed. We didn't mean to, but we laughed inside at their demise. Felt like Survivor. We all stared at each other suspiciously.

Next, pay some money to more frowny-face people, shuffle through some lines, sit in our little foreigner corner, and then wait for the driving test for a long, long time. Like 4 hours. Spent this time wandering the empty halls, eating rice, studying the course map and mentally preparing myself to operate the blinker and the steering wheel in harmonious synchronized perfection, and basically feeling the life slowly sucked out of me.

Finally the time came. A shout came from the distance: FOREIGNERS THIS WAY. Judgement Day had arrived. I heard ominous music in my head. We were led through a long, blank hallway to a small bright room at the end. The semi-prostitute had her head down. Nate was fidgeting nervously. The established prep routine in my mind was going haywire: 'OK, BLINKER, SHOULDER CHECK, PUMP BRAKE, LOOK LEFT...NO...RIGHT...REARVIEW, DON'T CROSS THE LINE! EJECT! MAYDAY!"

We were all placed in seats in the tiny room and told something in Japanese. Blue Suit Man left and we remained alone with our nerves. I felt we would never see another person again and we stared out the windows of our isolation booth.

This is the point at which I really expected to realize it was a trap, see the nerve gas chamber door slam shut and slowly feel my eyelids drooping.

But instead, more waiting. Then...the License God spoke. A loudspeaker called names and directed us down to the first floor where a car and a new, Apparently Mute Blue Suit Tester Man awaited us.

The Hostess went first. As we watched her run the track, she seemed OK, but we realized immediately that something had gone wrong when her rear tire went gazonkers over the edge during her tricky Z shape turns. Instant fail. To make things worse, she forgot the course and ended up going the complete wrong way. Before she left the car, Apparently Mute Blue Suit Tester Man finally spoke. "Fail. Wait at second floor."

Not a good example. Nate and I then made a brotherly pact that we wouldn't watch each other do our courses, so as not to add to the stress of the thing. I was next...I said a prayer and Nate put his head down, and I slowly walked towards the car. I checked for children and animals under each tire, and entered the car.

"Konnichiwa!" I said. No Longer Mute Blue Suit Tester Man: "grumble grumble. practice lap grumble". OK. Went through all the motions, engaged blinker #1, and off for my practice lap.

Somehow, they managed to install the world's most sensitive breaks on the test car. Good thing for the practice lap, cuz it took about a block to make it feel less like a rodeo.

Circled back, stopped, and the real test began. Did all the checks, buttons, twists, maneuvers and tweaks I could remember that I needed to do. I felt I was at one with the crew on the space shuttle as they, at that very moment, were checking their gauges and instruments during their fiery re-entry back to earth. "Houston, we have an all systems go!" Then, I started driving.

Everything seemed well. I was OWNING the course. I was twisting my head more than an owl at Wimbledon. CHECK CHECK CHECK! BLINKER TURN BRAKE! SLOW FAST SLOW! Momentarily lost track of my place on the course but divine intervention brought me back. The trickiest moment came at the Z turn where I had just witnessed my Philipino course-sister take one for the team. But I pulled through and didn't even knock over a pole.

Finished up strong, even though a couple blinkers came on a little late and some turns were taken at maybe 5 or 6 mph, perhaps a little too fast. Pulled up and Nate still had his head down. I looked across at No Longer Mute Blue Suit Tester Man, and awaited his final judgement. "Wait at second floor..."

HA HA HE DIDN'T SAY FAIL! I gave a thumbs up to Nate, warned him about the brakes, and headed up to pray for his safe return. However, a bit of doubt lingered...I hadn't really been told I passed. I suddenly felt that tester man was running to his phone to quickly call the police to come take me away and cast me into Bad Lego Course Driver prison...

Nate returned. All signs were positive though he looked like he had just gotten out of the electric chair. His eyes were wide, he had been sweating with nerves, and his hair was sticking up and frazzled.

More waiting. Another woman yelled "FOREIGNERS OVER HERE. WAIT." Hooker girl seemed upset and Nate and I were hopeful. Another Blue Suit Man came up the stairs. We stared at him as he paced across the bare room slowly, holding three sets of files. He pointed at me and Nate: "Gokaku!" he said. He looked at the girl: "Zannen" (too bad) he said. At this point I still didn't know what Gokaku meant. The guy from the Board of Education started to shake my hand. "Pass, Pass!"

Woo hoo! Nate and I shook hands and did lots of slapping and jumping. The bar girl stared at us scornfully. This ridiculous event was finally over. We prepped for pictures (Nate slicked back his test-hair, I tried to smile but wasn't allowed to) and we were handed our licenses an hour later.

SO, I am the eternal ruler of all ridiculous foreign driving tests, with a first-try pass.

Sort of supports my theory of the connection between spending money on the driving schools across the street from the test center. I swear old man Yoshioka must have phoned up his crony friend and said "big white boy, skinny white boy, did the classes, give them some love". And love was given. We survived, and will never go back...