Idid not want a Cadillac or a Pontiac, the gas guzzlers, the folks with money, drove in the streets of Dubai. They were out of my reach. So instead, I lusted for a small hatchback I could afford.
I had to work on two things simultaneously, saving for my dream car and getting a driving license.
My driving experience was limited to riding a scooter in Sri Lanka, despite never obtaining a proper driver’s license. In retrospect, I must take responsibility for my lapse in judgment and attribute it to my youthful bluster.
Putting aside my previous lack of responsibility, I made obtaining a driver’s license my primary focus. There were many driving schools in Dubai, some reputed and some not. But I was determined to find the best. So, I enrolled in the Dubai Police Driving School.
I began to save for my hatchback.
In the driving school, the instructor was Richard, aka Rick, a tall man with a Liverpool accent. He looked like a battle-hardened soldier with a thick moustache and a sun tan. Rick wore his police uniform impeccably and his brown boots, polished to a shine.
With Rick’s pointy instructions, I learned the fine art of taking off without a jerk. I learned to pedal the accelerator, clutch, and change gears without a hitch. He taught three-point turns and reversing around a corner. Under his specific instructions, I learned foolproof techniques in parking.
On sunny afternoons, I drove the Police provided sedan, a Daihatsu Charmant with Rick's tall frame in the passenger seat.
Rick was precise when dishing out instructions like a military commander. He taught me the cool art of glancing at the speedometer and the rear mirror every sixty seconds while keeping eyes on the road. There were hard no-nos, like relaxing your hands while driving and resting a hand on the door, as many youngsters did. Keeping hands on the steering wheel at the 10:10 position, as if pointing to the corresponding numbers on a clock face, was a must. He taught me the grand technique of overtaking safely and sticking to speed limits. Adjusting the rear mirror and the two side mirrors and putting the seatbelt on before take-off was a must-do ritual. He sequenced every instruction to make the learner action them logically.
Rick was a disciplined man, for he put the fear of God into me as if my life depended on me learning to drive. My hands, legs, and eyes had never worked so hard to coordinate every action as when I learned to drive on the streets of Bur Dubai, in Jumeirah and Satwa with Rick sitting next to me, giving me instructions, sequentially, perhaps the only way a young lad could follow.
Learning to drive wasn’t always easy. Sometimes, I made stupid mistakes, and Rick would yell at me to admonish me, but I never gave up. And he never gave up on me. So I knew he had my back.
I was determined to get my license and my dream car. So, I practised hard with 100% attention to my actions and learned the fine art of coordinating all fours, eyes and ears.
About four weeks later, I was ready for prime time; for the driving test.
Now, this was the thing. Asians had the most challenging time getting a license in Dubai, for driving in Asia is a tricky game. As a result, they failed the test many, many times. Doing the test seven to eight times was the norm for them. Obtaining a driving license was more challenging than earning a college degree, as it took years to pass the test.
I was determined to buck this trend and pass the first time.
Finally, the big day arrived. My driving test was scheduled for a Tuesday morning. I woke up that morning feeling nervous and excited at the same time. I spent the whole morning visualising myself driving and imagining how proud I would feel when I passed my test.
No way I could fail the test.
When I arrived at the driving school, people were waiting to be tested, assembling at reception. Some were seated, and some were standing. They were talking among themselves, sharing their sob stories of failure.
I activated my action plan. I did not mingle with them and instead walked out to the sun, waiting outside, far away from them. If I listened to them, it would take my positivity away. I came to win, so I decided to sit it out, away from the clutter. It was a mind game.
When my name was called over the loudspeaker, I came in, joining the driving examiner, also wearing a Police uniform with a clipboard in his hand. I knew he would be tough on me, but I was ready. I did not feel nervous when the uniformed inspector got into the car, for I was used to Rick sitting beside me in his uniform. I got behind the wheel and started the vehicle precisely as Rick had taught me. I drove confidently, following all the rules and regulations Rick brainwashed me with.
I followed everything the examiner told me to do, showing my confidence and demonstrating that I was a safe driver, could read the road signs and had a general sense of direction in the streets of Dubai.
After an eternity of thirty minutes in Satwa and Jumeirah, I returned to the driving school. I took the parking tests in the vast car park in the driving school. I nailed them, too, following Rick’s instructions to the letter. Finally, the inspector turned to me and said, “Congratulations, you have passed your driving test!” I was over the moon. I couldn’t believe it. All the hard work, practice, determination, sacrifice and Rick’s yelling had finally paid off.
As I walked out of the driving school, I knew my dream of owning a car was a reality. Walking on air, I felt proud, knowing I had accomplished something significant. From that day forward, I was a licensed driver, ready to hit the roads of Dubai.
Obtaining a driver’s license was a game changer, a big deal that I treated my colleagues to snacks at work. It was something to be celebrated. Remember the comparison to a college degree.
The next day, I came to the driving school to thank Rick. Young as I was, I knew he changed my life with his precision driving lessons.
A month later, I bought my first-ever car, a white Mitsubishi Colt hatchback.
Now, I drive a semi-autonomous EV, but Rick’s efforts back in the day in a manual Daihatsu Charmant are never forgotten. His lessons in safe driving are lifelong.
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