That Elusive License

(Above, the goal: a French driver's license)

Somehow, I managed to make it to my mid twenties without learning how to drive. Not particularly hard for a native New Yorker, but surprising still since I've lived in various elsewheres.

It never seemed odd that I didn't have a driver's license. Growing up, most of the people I knew didn't have one. I didn't realize how odd it was until I went to a large Midwestern university for undergraduate studies. Somehow, it would come up in conversation and people would be in disbelief. There isn't a need for it, I would explain. And that made sense to them. Quickly, not knowing how to drive became a characteristic I proudly assumed.

Still, I began to have the idea that having a license might be useful. I eventually got myself a driver's permit. Sadly, though, I lacked the follow-through to get my license: I allowed the permit to expire (yes, they do expire). Subconsciously, perhaps, I was reluctant to prepare myself for a life outside of New York.

But I left again anyway, this time for graduate studies. Not having a license or a car was crippling. Somewhat quaintly, I had thought learning to bike might be sufficient, mistaking the Midwest to be similar to the under-served areas of the outer boroughs. The reality sunk in the first time I biked home, laden with grocery bags, uphill. And yet, I returned to New York after two years, still without a license.

I have finally met my match. Life in Guadeloupe is simply not possible without a car (and by extension a license). Of course, there are buses, but they are dreadfully inconvenient. It was only this past year that formal stops were made. Previously, buses stopped any where - convenient for anybody getting on or off, but made for a very long ride for everybody else.

I signed up for driving lessons today. I don't know why I didn't begin sooner. I suppose its more of that same reluctance that has kept me license-less all these years. I am nervous about the whole thing. Though I think most people would be nervous about driving in Guadeloupe. The narrow roads are shared by cars and lorry trucks alike; people often walk along the roadside. The roads twist and turn, sometimes in hairpin curves. And most worrisome, Guadeloupeans prove that they are every bit French especially when behind the wheel.

I'll have to pass the written exam (le code) before I start actual driving lessons. I'll be studying all day tomorrow since I have my first session for le code on Thursday.