On the Road Again

There is a very common stereotype that Asian people cannot drive. And like many stereotypes, it did come from somewhere. Now that I have lived in a couple of Asian countries for the last few years, I am beginning to understand where it comes from.

It is not true at all that Asian people cannot drive. In fact, they are excellent drivers. However, if you get even a glimpse into the world in which they have to drive in their home countries, you can quickly understand why they drive radically different than the people in the Western world.

The attitude on the roads here in Vietnam can only be described as “different than America” or possibly “predictable chaos”. I have found the Vietnamese people to be friendly, selfless and humble, but as soon as they get onto the roads that all seems to go out of the window. It’s every man for himself here. If you leave a gap at a traffic light of a couple of feet or so, you can expect somebody to pull in diagonally in front of you. If you aren't already moving two seconds before the lights go green, people will get angry. If you are crossing the road at a crosswalk, people will not stop. You will be beeped at, swerved around, wheel clipped, shunted and stressed out at every given opportunity. But you have to get out there if you expect to cross.

This is not a joke.

This really is how it works

Move forward at a steady predictable pace.
And NEVER stop or step backward.

Traffic lights are a guideline. I am told that they are new here although I cannot find the facts as to when they were first introduced to back this up. What I can say is that they are few and far between for a city the size of Da Nang (1.1 million) or Hội An (150,000 and less than a dozen traffic lights or stop signs). It’s a normal thing for people to run red lights. Quite often people will start aggressively beeping horns at you if you have the audacity to stop at a red and block their way. At many junctions, it is a free-for-all, with the Vietnamese drivers having perfected the art of not slowing down. You would be amazed at just how last second people can leave the intersection to avoid an obstacle. Razor-thin margins of close calls are expected every time we venture out of our house.

Hesitation will get you killed

Define for me who has the right-of-way here

Lanes? What lanes?

So, if you grew up in this chaos and were then dropped on the streets of America, your driving may seem quite erratic to the people around you.

Despite this rectum-clenching scenario I just described, I am very excited about the events of this week.

I got my driver's license.
Sort of.

This is a license to drive a car. I have no use for this. I drive a motorbike (illegally for the last year--SHHHHH!). But it was the first step in the long process of getting a motorbike license. Similar to how you have to buy the farmer a couple of beers before he'll let you kiss his cows.

First, I had to get my American driver's license converted to a Vietnamese license. This involved a trip to a government office in Tam Ky. Then a couple of weeks later, I had to travel to Da Nang to get a medical check-up. I talked to over a dozen different doctors about my medical history, my family, my purpose in Vietnam, my job, my intentions on staying and my ranking of bún chả, mì quảng, and phở noodles. I was weighed, poked, monitored, blood pressured, blood was drawn and I was drug tested, urine tested, and questioned endlessly.

Tiniest urine sample vial I've ever used.
LESSON LEARNED: My penile aim is impeccable.
I got a tight stream, yo.

After three hours of grunting at Vietnamese doctors, I got my paperwork proving I was healthy enough to drive a motorbike in Vietnam. Or even on one of the moons of Jupiter.

It says it on there somewhere.
Just trust me. Shut up.

After all that, it was just a matter of passing the driving test. And this is where it got difficult.

Now, I know how to ride a bike. I've been doing it for over a year in all this chaos. Illegally, but still. In the States, I rode a Harley.

Much more machine than the toys they have here.

I am not in the least concerned about my ability to handle the motorbikes of Vietnam. However, I was quite concerned about the test. For several reasons:

• They provide the bike which is made for tiny Asian people (not 6'3" Americans)
• Every bike has little idiosyncracies (tricky clutch, varying brake strength, touchy accelerator, etc), but you are not allowed to practice with the bike they give you. Get on and go.
• You must wear their helmet. It did not fit on my head.
• Most people (73%) fail.
• My knees hit the handlebars.
• My big feet kept triggering the foot brake.

These are just some of the problems I encountered when I went to the practice lot. There is a place in Da Nang that has all the markings on the ground for people to go practice. You go to a bike rental shop and rent a bike like the ones used for testing and go practice. This was how I learned that I hated the bikes we would have to use. But I practiced for hours anyway. I felt ridiculous and told my wife there was no way I would pass this test.

Two days ago, we went to the testing facility. This place is only open once a month. If someone fails, they have to wait a month before coming back again. They test for everything in that one day.

Behind the facility for big trucks, buses and cars.

We were taken in the back to tackle some treacherous stairs to the bike testing place.

If you are handicapped, you must be confused
about needing a license.

The testing site was rigged with ground sensors. If you touched the line, the system knew it.

An instructor (with a translator) walked us through the course. First was the figure 8, then a straight section followed by a zig-zag and ending with a heavily speed-bumped area. Just stay within the lines. We start with 100 points. Every violation deducts 5 points and we needed 80 to pass. This means we were allowed only 4 or less. Side note: If you put your foot down once, you fail.

One of the other Americans testing with me asked, "If we go outside the barrier, the tire hits that cord twice. Once going out and once coming back. Does that count as one or two violations?"

The instructor looked sternly at him, "Why do you ask this?

"I just want to know how many marks that will be against me."

The instructor turned away shaking his head and yelled, "Stupid question. Does not matter. Do your best. You either pass or you do not. Let's start."

We all looked at each other. No more questions I guess.

The first of my friends to try was a South African man and he was pulled off the track before he did one circuit on the figure 8. Done. Failed before he even hardly got started.

The next was a 60 y/o man from Idaho. He pulled a perfect score. So, it could be done. I was assigned my bike and did a quick circle in the parking lot while being yelled at by the instructors. I just wanted to get a quick feel for the bike. My legs were splayed straight out to prevent hitting the handlebars. I pointed my feet out to keep them away from the brakes and I noticed the gas caused the bike to jump when the transmission finally caught.

I started into the 8 knowing that I better keep a steady speed because moving the accelerator would have unpredicable results. I hit two violations within seconds of entering, but managed the rest of the course with only one more. I finished with an 85. I passed!

I still am not a legal driver until the license is in my hand. I am supposed to receive it on October 31.

No more running from the cops. I've had to do that a couple of times in the last year. YAY me!

I'm ready to be legal. I'm looking forward to not having to hide in the small town we live in. We will actually be able to get out and drive without having to worry. It's time to see the rest of Vietnam.