I passed! I passed! I passed! Yatta!

One of the strategies I had heard about for passing the driving test was to be sure to say "yoroshiku onegaishimasu" to the examiner. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu is a really useful Japanese expression that most people use when they meet someone for the first time, for instance. It often means something like, "Please be nice to me." In the case of the driving test, I suppose you could say the expression means, "Please allow me to pass."

I was waiting for the right moment to say that to my instructor, but that moment didn't really come. If it did come, I didn't recognize it or take advantage of it. So the test began without a yoroshiku. But I still had faith that I'd pass.

My next error occurred a few seconds later.

I remembered to look both ways before entering the car.

I remembered to play with the brake and gas pedals, adjust my seat, adjust the "room" mirror (for some strange reason, you don't adjust the side mirrors), and put my seat belt on.

I remembered to ensure that my passenger was wearing his seat belt.

I remembered to start the engine, put the car in drive, and release the parking brake.

I also remembered to look in the room mirror, look over my left shoulder, and then look over my right shoulder.

And I remembered to start driving.

What I forgot to do, however, was turn on my "winker" before looking in the room mirror and checking over my shoulders. Oh crap! That's minus 5 points already!

(A passing score is 70, which sounds easy to attain. But, from what I understand, you only get docked in increments of 5 points. Stray just a wee bit too far from the side of the road twice, for instance, and you're already looking at -20 points. So those 30 points you have to work with can disappear in a heartbeat.)

Fortunately, however, I caught myself just as I started to pull out of my parking spot. So I flicked the winker down to indicate that I was "turning" right a second before I flicked the winker back up to indicate that I was turning left onto the actual driving course.

(By the way, here in Japan, the windshield wiper switch is on the left and the winker switch is on the right. I'm so used to them being the other way around that I often turn on the wipers when I actually want to use my turn signal. Luckily, I never did that on the driving course!)

Looking back on that mistake, I'm not so sure it was a mistake. But I was taught to turn on my right winker before turning on my left winker, and I forgot to do so.

Why wasn't it a mistake, perhaps? Well, there are three lanes for cars where the course starts. From what I remember, when I was taking my lessons I had only started out from the left-hand side lane or the middle lane. When you pull out of either of those lanes, there is often a car to your right. So using your right-turn signal seems okay.

But here I was, pulling out from the far-right side for the first time. So I guess my driving instincts told me to not use my winker. But if I didn't use my right-turn winker, I guess I should have used my left-turn winker, right?

Anyway, I told myself not to worry about my little mistake and to keep concentrating on the task at hand. I had made an error on the first play of the game, but there was a lot more baseball to be played.

The rest of the test went fairly well. On at least one occasion, I was pretty sure I was too far from the side of the road. But again, I did my best to stay focused and get through the test without screwing up.

I guess the hardest part of the driving test was simply trying to stay calm. I was so nervous about half-way through the test that my right foot started to bounce up and down ever so slightly against the gas pedal. That was crazy!

When I made it through to the end of the course, I put the car in "park," pulled on the parking brake, and turned off the engine. I then said a brief arigato gozaimashita to the examiner, looked both ways before opening the door (no way was I going to forget that part!), and exited the car.

I still had no idea if I had passed the test.

The instructor then threw me one last curve ball.

There he stood, behind the car, on the passenger side, a serious expression still on his face, motioning toward his side of the car.

The following thoughts flashed through my mind:

"Now what? What the heck does he want me to do? Oh, crap, Taura-san must have forgotten to tell me something. Oh, geez, I better hurry up and figure out what he wants me to do or I'm probably going to fail the test. Am I supposed to look under the car? Am I supposed to walk around the car? Taura-saaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!"

Sensing my confusion, the instructor decided to help me. "Your things," he said.

Whew! All he wants is for me to get my wallet and keys and whatnot out of the car. Hooray!

But wait. Did I pass?

I then followed the instructor back into the waiting room. He put down his clipboard, faced me, and said ... "okay" while giving me the same hand signal.

That's it? Okay? Does "okay" mean "Okay for a foreigner," "Okay for the first time," or "Okay, you passed"?

Still not 100% sure if I passed, I looked back at the instructor, said something like, "Okay? Really?" and breathed a big sigh of relief.

I passed! I passed! I passed! Yatta!

For the most part, I contained my emotion. Nevertheless, my delight was more than clear to everyone in the licensing center.

One guy in particular, who I had seen the day before while I was taking my lessons, actually wondered aloud what the big fuss was all about:

"What did you expect? Of course you passed. You took those lessons yesterday."

See what I mean. Kiss ass and ye shall pass.