I am now the (reluctant) driver of (drum roll)
A BRAND NEW SUBARU PLEO!
It's sleek! It's stylish! It's the size of a rice cooker!
HELP ME! EVERYONE DRIVES ON THE LEFT! I really shouldn't be typing this while I'm driving -- note to self...
Anyway, here's a picture of daddy's little trooper (actual size):
It's pretty much sink or swim when it comes to learning how to drive in Japan -- this concepts undertones come dangerously close to reality given the near miss I had with a bog the other day... Watch out for those farmers! I had no idea that the inhabitants of rural Japan were so well-versed in the ancient art of New York style obscene finger gestures... I was pretty sure I caught a, "Go back to 'Jersey, ya moron!" too.
Aside from roadside detractors and the occasional street sign that, through no fault of my own, ends up in my grill, things have been marginally, somewhat, OK, sort of, behind the wheel. But my skills were hard earned, with hours of work, determination, and sweat put into just getting inside the darn thing...
Imagine my surprise when I hopped in the car the first time and saw this:
Seriously? I was whisked away to Seinfeld's 'Bizzaro World' episode. "Boy! This driver's side sure is roomy for such a little car!"
"You're in the passenger side, sir," the attendant offered meekly, his cohorts stifling their guffaws in the background.
"Right, right... Of course. I just wanted to make sure that...never mind," I blurted out lifelessly.
This is the scenario I played out in my head in anticipation of a nightmarish first experience. But reality's writers could have worked for the original Saturday Night Live line up.
I turned every single feature on and off twice before getting the thing into drive. I'm pretty sure they didn't laugh and point at me at the same time until I ran over the curb exiting the place; but I can't vouch for the time I spent trying to unjam the window-spritzer thing.
Conveniently, the car rental place was 45 minutes away from Maki, so getting home alive was VERY interesting.
What amazes me (and my Japanese friends will get a chuckle about this) is the utter disregard the obaachans (grandmother/older ladies) have for the rules of the road. It's sort of that, "I'm backing up and I don't care what people say!" mentality. I can't tell you how many times one of those geriatric hellions has come tearing out of a side street, not once looking to see if anyone is coming. Like I don't have enough problems behind the wheel?! I'm already freaking out enough about backing into a parking space. Now I have to worry about Old Mother Hubbard and her jidenshya (bike) missle heading for me at 100 MPH? See! I can't even handle the mph/kilometer conversion yet!
Picture a Japanese version of the "Where's the Beef?" lady atop one of those bikes from the Wizard of Oz, and you've just purchased front row seats and service for two in my brain.
I'm ready to start riding my bike again, thank you.
More to follow...hopefully.
Keep surfing!
(with a seatbelt and a helmet!)
Brendan
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