As usual, the most difficult maneuver was negotiating my way around the bureaucracy. I began queueing at 9am at window 12 of the Oakland Department of Motor Vehicles. When I told a security guard I had an appointment he motioned me towards window 13, where I was told to take my documents and insurance to window 24. There I was informed I should drive my car around the back of the building and wait in line. All instructions were delivered at the usual machine-gun speed of officials, making it very hard for a non-native speaker like myself to keep up.
I waited in line, being sure to check out what the people in front were being asked to do (hand signals), and suddenly my examiner snuck up from behind. After several high-speed, unintelligible sentences she handed me a piece of paper to sign and my test began.
"Where is your emergency break?" was the first question. The fact that Americans only use the parking break in an emergency tells you all you need to know about driving styles around here. We went through indicators, headlights, and the rear window demister(?). "I'm going to get into the car with you now, ok?" she asked. "Um...sure."
There were more instructions, something about carrying straight on until she told me to do otherwise - I was too terrified to do anything else - then we were off.
The Oakland test centre is in the middle of a big trading estate, which brought unpleasant flashbacks to the days of learning to drive in similar places in Frome (Mum shouting "Buster!" at me, the name of her childhood dog, whenever I scared her).
My examiner instructed me to turn right, to turn left, to reverse...
The only hairy moment came when a pedestrian appeared by the side of the road riding a bike, holding a dog on a lead, and made to cross. Having heard stories of friends failing for not giving way all times (it's different in Texas, I'm told) I immediately stopped. The pedestrian remained still. The car behind me beeped its horn. My examiner rolled down the window, shouted at the car behind, then turned to the pedestrian and screamed "are you going or not?"
Back at the test centre (where I was still shaking) I was informed that I'd only missed out on one thing. "Remember to look both ways at every intersection," my examiner said. Looking in one direction is more than most Californian drivers manage, so I was fairly happy. The man at window 23 told me I'd be receiving my licence within ten days.
PS Many thanks to Dana and Amir for trusting me with their car for this adventure. Greater love hath no friends...
