Driving in Circles: Navigating Japan’s Bizarre Road to Getting a Driver’s License
Ah, the joy of navigating Japan’s driving license labyrinth—where the plot twists more than a mystery novel and bureaucracy dances a tango with your patience. After five years of enjoying Japan's stellar public transport, life threw a curveball: marriage and a baby on the way. Time to buckle up and get that license. With 18 years of driving under my belt, I thought I was ready. Spoiler alert: I wasn’t.
Japan’s driving test is a beast of its own, demanding near-perfect scores on both written and practical tests. But here’s the twist: the practical test is less about real-world driving and more about performing an elaborate driving dance, following steps that often defy common sense. Enter the driving schools—institutions that don’t so much teach you how to drive as they coach you on how to appease the testing gods.
The Costly Tango of Driving Schools
These schools aren’t cheap, ranging from $2000 to $5000, and they’re curiously entwined with the licensing process. A certificate from one of these schools is your golden ticket at the licensing center—a fact that made my eyebrows rise higher than the Tokyo Skytree. Most locals shrug and accept this as the status quo, but something smelled fishier than Tsukiji Market to me.
Textbooks and Trials
I armed myself with $80 worth of textbooks (courtesy of the same folks running these schools) and dove into the depths of Japanese driving lore. After acing the written test (fourth time’s the charm!), I plunged into the practical test. My first attempt was a bust, as expected. The feedback session was less about my driving and more an infomercial for their favorite driving school.
The Hunt for a Real Practice Session
Phoning around for a school that would let an experienced driver like me practice the test route was a journey in itself. The big schools wanted me to sign up for the full, pricey beginner’s course. Smaller schools were more flexible but insisted on knowing which officer had sent me—a detail that set off alarm bells louder than a Tokyo rush hour.
Finally, I found a school that agreed to my terms, only to discover the instructor was an octogenarian who enrolled me in a basic course without my consent. Our “practice session” was him lecturing on basics and making me circle the track endlessly. I still shudder at the thought of trying to get my $300 back.
The Test Day Debacle
Test day arrived, and I watched a fellow examinee, fresh out of driving school, make errors galore, yet he passed. My turn came, and despite nailing it, I was promptly failed with vague reasons and another push towards driving school enrollment. The examiner’s disinterest in my performance was as blatant as a sumo wrestler in a ballet class.
The Real Hack: Gaimen Kirikae
In the end, I went back to my home country to renew my expired license, opting for the “gaimen kirikae” or “license exchange.” It’s no exchange, though, as you still have to take a test, but it’s a mockery compared to the regular one. Ten questions and a five-minute drive, and I passed on my first try. The trip back home was cheaper than paying for driving school in Japan.
Navigating Japan’s licensing system feels like playing an elaborate game where the rules are designed to keep you on your toes. Whether it’s the costly driving schools, the peculiar testing methods, or the endless bureaucracy, every step is an adventure. So if you find yourself on this journey, take a deep breath, embrace the chaos, and remember—you’re not alone in this tango.
