Driving Lessons, Japanese Style!

After successfully getting past the paperwork check stage, the next step for me toward getting my Japanese driver's license was to take driving lessons.

Since I've been driving on and off for about the past 25 years, the idea of taking driving lessons initially seemed a little absurd to me. But considering what the Japanese driving test entails, I decided that paying $65 each for two hours of driving lessons was a wise move.

I did a bit of research and found the names of two driving instructors in Miyazaki City who gave private lessons. I chose Taura-san over Hirabara-san simply because I got a good vibe when I read about him.

It turns out that I made a great decision.

Taura-san was a short guy with a bubbly personality. (I've got to meet him again some day so I can add his picture here). Even the way he laughed was kind of cute. The guy was so relaxed throughout the lessons that he put me completely at ease, too. And the guy was a master of his craft, putting my driving skills to shame.

Granted, we were practicing on a closed course that Taura-san must have driven on thousands of times. Furthermore, the speed limit was 40 kmh (25 mph) and there were probably no more than 10 cars on the entire course at any given time. Nevertheless, I had the feeling that Taura-san could have driven around the course with his eyes closed and no one would have ever noticed. Not only that, his composure and demeanor were so perfect, he could have won an Academy Award for Driving Mister Yama. Taura-san was the pro and I was the rookie. And I was determined to learn from him. Fast.

If you try to fight the Japanese system, you'll surely lose. Knowing that, I adopted the following mindset before my lessons began: "Don't ask why. Be humble. And be respectful." Or, in other words: "Kiss ass and ye shall pass."

So when Taura-san told me that before opening the door to get into the car I should look both ways while saying "Migi, okay. Hidari, okay," I did so.

And when he told me to say out loud what I was doing or thinking, such as "I'm putting on my seat belt," "I'm making sure no one is in my blind spot," or "I'm speeding up," I did so, in Japanese no less!

And when he told me to speed up almost immediately after coming out of a turn, even when there was a stop sign or red light only about 100 feet(!) ahead of me, I did so.

And when he told me to hit the brakes, sometimes three times in quick succession, a few seconds after accelerating out of those turns, I did so.

And when he told me to hug the solid white line running along the curb, I did so.

And when he told me to hug the center line, I did so.

And when he told me to put on my "winker" (blinker) way before I planned to turn or change lanes, I did so.

And when he told me to count to three, out loud, while checking my rear-view (or, as the Japanese say, "room") mirror, side mirror, and blind spot, before changing lanes, I did so.

And when he told me to change lanes rapidly, in an "s" shape, rather than gradually gliding over, I did so.

And when he told me to stop within a foot of the pole at the side of the start/finish area, I did so. (If you don't, you fail the test. No matter how well you drove around the course.)

And when he told me to look both ways before opening the door to exit the vehicle, I did so. (Again, if you forget to do that, you automatically fail the test!)

All in the name of passing the test.

I drove two distinct routes around the closed course because the actual driving test I would be taking the following day would be on one of the two routes.

Taura-san told me that I wouldn't have to memorize the courses completely since, when I would be taking the actual test, the instructor would tell me where to turn. But he also told me that it was best to not rely on the instructor's help, because after I made each turn I had to know if I had to hug the left or right side of my lane and I would be on my own as far as that was concerned. And I had to know exactly where to change lanes, since the instructor wouldn't tell me that, either.

As the lessons went on, I kept wondering how memorizing a driving route and driving the way no one drives in reality proved I was a good/safe driver. But I guess that's just the way the Japanese think: If you can master the ritual, you are a success.

After a few of hours of driving practice, I felt that I was as ready for the driving test as I could be. I thanked Taura-san repeatedly, bowed several times, and thanked him again. He smiled, giggled some more, and wished me luck.