License to Kill
While taking a breather from Kenya, I should probably tell a few stories. While in USA I screwed up and did not renew my international driver’s license. It’s about the dumbest thing I have for travel given that AAA just issues it to me after I show my California DL and pay a few dollars and it is a very insecure document especially compared to a real license. But the world seems to like it over the real thing so I carry it. Mine expired in August and I certainly had the hour to spare in Santa Rosa to get a new one, but I did not. I went to the Kenya Revenue Authority because I was told that they would renew it for me. Nope. So I went to Kenya AA (no that is not a program for alcoholics although I chuckle every time someone tells me they are going to AA for a driving class or test).
Kenya AA told me they could not renew mine because it had expired. Reading between the lines… “we’d rather charge you a bunch of money to get a real license”. They act real serious about their license process and I scoffed that the way Kenyans drive, the process is not so serious. I didn’t mean to speak what was on my mind and I certainly started things off poorly. The woman handling foreigners took to me their “theory” room and an “instructor” pointed to a big board of road signs and tell me what a few mean. Many such as “STOP” were self-evident. Again, I dug more of a hole with these folks when my thought about how odd it is that I never see any of these signs on the roadways of Kenya suddenly was audible. They told me that when I took the real test then any failures with the chosen signs would be a failure on the test. My thought on this one which I managed to keep inaudible was that a failure only means that I have to cough up money to bribe the test proctor.
David, a drunken Scot owrking in Kenya because he lost his license for DUI at home, lives upstairs and he told me a few days prior that I should use his “fixer”. This is a guy that you pay a little money to and he gets you into the test easily and the person giving you the test is paid off so they pass you regardless of what you do. I hate Kenyan corruption and I especially hate it when foreigners partake. I decided I would just do it the way you’re suppose to do it. David said that it did not matter what he said for the signs or roundabout toy car test, they passed him. And all he had to do is sit in the driver’s side of the car to pass the road test. His test proctor was the Karen police chief’s daughter and that is no surprise since the police are the most corrupt people in Kenya. Well, maybe the politicians are the most corrupt!
Back at AA’s theory room, the instructor took me over to a kid’s toy which is basically a model of a roundabout with some side streets and a few matchbox cars. They put one matchbox on the roadway after the roundabout and then put another before the roundabout and told me to drive it so that it is parked behind the first one. The first thing that I noticed is that this roundabout is perfect with painted lines and arrows. There is no roundabout in Kenya looking as nice as this toy one. When Kenyans drive through a roundabout they do whatever they please. It was obvious they did not want me to do what I would be forced to do on the real roads for this little game. The game is a trick in that there is no way to just go through the roundabout and get behind the first car and instead you have to do some ridiculous side street driving in order to approach the roundabout in a manner that you can be in the right position to get behind that car. There is nothing about reality in this game other than the instructor is very serious about its importance. Again, failure to handle this test right at the police testing facility would mean I would not get a Kenyan license. Do I really want one?
I showed up at the Karen police station as instructed at 8:00 AM. So did 200 other folks. It was basically a free-for-all pushing to get your name in. We were then instructed to line up. The students were lectured intensely while waiting. All was in Kiswahili, but the gist was that driving is serious business – no alcohol, speeding, etc. Fine discussion especially since I did not have to understand it, but it seemed totally disconnected from what I witness every single day in Kenya as far as most drivers doing stupid tricks behind the wheel as often as possible. I was suppose to be tested on two randomly chosen signs, but the tester kept going making me answer at least ten of them. I was thinking that was more appropriate for the kids rather than the guy that has been driving for 29 years, but who am I to say. They then took me to the toy torture test and I watched a couple of testees get easy roundabout configuration tests. For me, they gave me the most difficult… make that ridiculous… one possible. It involves something like going through the roundabout, driving past the car to park behind, doing a U-turn, going through the roundabout again, driving on a side street in order to get back on the road headed for the roundabout and go through the roundabout a third time in the correct lane for parking behind a car (which is in a lane that is not parking so in reality that car would be long gone). I told them this was the most stupid test I have ever been given and was particularly insane given the realities of Kenya roundabouts, roads and drivers. I don’t think they liked me.
A lot waiting around and then about 50 of us boarded a truck and rode out to the country roads of Karen. This is where we met four cars which would be used for the road test. While waiting, I asked the eight other students if they had automobiles or plans to buy one. None had any such plans. They just wanted their license. I suggested they should take refresher courses when they eventually get the opportunity to drive a car. They looked at me blankly. Two students walked off with one of the instruction monitors and it was obvious that they paid him some money to skip the test and they were driven back to the police station to get their temporary license. The rest of us knew exactly what they did.
I was finally packed into a small car with five other students and a police woman who sat in the passenger seat. Each student took a turn trying to drive the manual transmission car for a few dozen meters. We nearly drove off the road a couple of times and the car must have stalled for each of them a couple of times. I was quite scared to be a passenger for each of them. They all passed. When I had my turn, I got in and did all the normal pre-check items like adjusting the seat and adjusting the mirrors. I threw it in first and blasted down the road getting into third gear whereas no one else had even tried to shift. It was a ten second drive when she told me to pull over. I was aiming for a driveway, but that was not quick enough and she started to grab the wheel. Your a passenger in my car and you try to grab the wheel… I have an involuntary reaction that basically involves smacking you! I stopped my hand inches from hitting a police woman. She knew she was wrong and told me I was a good driver (can one really make such a pronouncement after ten seconds???). I was happy that my ability to stop my fist was faster than my ability to stop my mouth.
As far I could tell, no one failed the testing that day and two hundred more Kenyan driver’s licenses were issued. My guess is that 190 of those 200 would make for the world’s most scary drivers, but I am sure they will fit in nicely on the roads once they get the opportunity. I had been talking to an Australian woman that day comparing notes on the most ridiculous testing of our lives and we could only roll our eyes when it came to receiving our paperwork and congratulations. Why David would want to pay someone a bribe to skip such experience is beyond me!
Tags: kenya
vagabondrick
It’s good to see you posting your wonderful stories again, Rick! They’ve been a real treat for many of us armchair travelers who’ve vicariously shared in your adventures…