Finally i got my act together and decided to get the whole driving thing rolling. Here in the land of infinite bureaucracy, it is a three pronged process, filled with twists and turns that would send a bobslayer into a fit.
Part 1. - The pysch evaluation
I had asked the people who helped me set this up about this part of the test since it was the part that freaked me out the most. My appointment was at ten am and I arrived promptly and sat down. I was eventually called up at about 10:15, which is fine with me as I was feeling pretty agitated when i arrived. They asked for my details, which i gave them - my passport, my brazilian id. Then they asked me for my parents names. Heh? I asked what for... I mean my parents do not even live here but apparently it is normal. So already i had problems. I told them my parents live in London and Freetown, they said they need it cos that is what Detran (Dept of Transport) says that they need. I guess i shall have to fax it over. They then told me to sit down and i got a chance to catch up on my reading. Am currently reading a very insightful book, in Portuguese, called 1808, all about the move of the Portuguese monarchy to Brazil cos they were far too pussy to stay and fight Napoleon's entire army (ironic tone in my head).
After reading just over a page, I was called into the doctors office, yes you read that right, the DOCTOR'S OFFICE, where he ask me about my general health, took my blood pressure, gave me an eye test, ask about my family history, checked my colour blindness levels and then told me that i was ok and could leave. I then returned to the main waiting room and waited. The next phase of the test took place after another 15 minutes or so. I was taken to a small room, akin to a detain cell in Guantanamo bay and questions more deeply about my existence. The lady asked me where i was from, how much education i had, if i had a job, if i had any siblings, any long term illnesses, where my parents live, what i am doing in brazil, how long am i staying, am i married, what did i study at school, what hand i write with and i am sure there were a few more cos it felt as if i was there for a very long time indeed.
Following that lovely Q&A session, I then one minute to pick all appearances of 4 roads signs that appeared on an A4 piece of paper filled with road signs. Yeah, silly, i know but it had to be done. Then, just as my body was slowly coming to the realisation that i had not fed it the whole morning and was starting to protest this daft decision with a very bad headache, i was told that i had four minutes for my next exercise. This time, on the page, there were 50 signs with speed limits on them from 1 - 50, all nicely jumbled up, and in that 4 minute period, i had to find and cross off all 50 in order. Not too bad I thought, but by the time i got to 20, my headache had reached level 6 in pain, my eyes were blurry and i seemed to have forgotten how to count to 50. i think i may have made it to 40. i hope i did enough. just when i was starting to get frustrated, the fun really started.
Next in line for my now cranky, and over worked cranium was the let's draw lines test. there were about 6 or 7 different sheets of paper, and my task was to draw circles, or lines, or zigs-zags and then zag-zigs, i would start off being able to look and then the lady would cover my eyes and i would have to continue blind. WTF. really. all i want is a driving lesson. For this amount of stress they really should be giving me a free entry into Wharton Business School. So that took a while. Stomach rumbling, head hurting, body dehydrating, The Nasa astronaut test would be a walk in the park compared to this. We finished my last art project, the whole thing reminding me of art class when i was 12 or so, it brought back all those horrible repressed memories of stick men, and crappy landscapes, and constantly being told that i could not even hold the brush right... ok maybe not that bad, but the warden, and i use the word warden here deliberately, kept on readjusting my hand position and the angle of my pencil, as if the angle would straighten my increasingly wonky lines. The particular posture i had to adopt quickly tired me out and i started to think that maybe this was the point. maybe it was not the actual test that they were looking at, but the behavior to the test. So I endeavoured to keep cool and move on to the next part. And yes, there was a next part.
The final part was a logic test - i hate logic... tests. They always make me feel so freaking stupid. box, circle box, circle... what comes next? Come on... i know that, but it gets harder and harder and my poor malnourished brain cannot take it any more and just wants to implode and call it a day. and my stomach is screaming at me to get home and feed it, my mouth is dry, my eyes are watering... and in my mind i am thinking that a night in a Japanese torture chamber would be a better way to spend my time. and then, it is over... and about bloody time too. Really, the only thing missing was a rectal exam.
results.... not until tomorrow.
and guess what. that is probably the easiest, or at least the shortest part of the test since after this, as long as i am not seen as totally dysfunctional, the next part will be a week long of four hour classes where they apparently show videos of car crashes and lovely stuff like that, followed by a written test. all in Portuguese. i guess i should have done my test in England after all. Our car is apparently off the coast of Brazil, and hopefully it will be here very soon. When i say soon, i mean weeks and not days.
To leave on a more positive note, i thought that i would share a lovely song with you.
Kam Moye - Black Enough? | Videos > HipHopDX.com
