Rory purchased our new Mitsubishi Pajero on BP's guaranteed buy back plan. What that means is we pay for the car, pay to insure and maintain the car, but the car isn't actually registered on our name. Instead it is registered to BP, and we are authorized to drive it. What that also means is no diplomatic license plates -- a big change for me and a detail that is causing the Embassy some concern. The Embassy is trying to figure out a way to let the local cops know they are harassing a diplomatic vehicle without my having to shove a diplomatic card in their faces, but the solution to that problem involves doing something new and everyone who lives overseas knows how nearly impossible it is to ever do anything that is not standard. But that's another story.
We had to jump through a few BP hoops before we could actually drive: 1. Have driver's license translated into Azeri. 2. Get power of attorney. 3. Take defensive driving course. Rory did these three steps with little fanfare and off he drove into the sunset.
The first step for me was getting my Arizona driver's license translated. Rory provided a copy to the translation department and was informed it would take 2 weeks to translate my license. He calculated that as a translation rate of one word per day, slower if you don't count the numbers and dates as words. Wow, I'm thinking a lot of people would like working at that pace. Now, being a holder of a diplomatic ID card, I have no need for license translations or powers of attorney and didn't like not being independently mobile while waiting for 14 words to be converted from English to Azeri. But BP has this super mindmeld power over it's employees. They're all good little rule followers; they fear the evil safety "stop" card if they don't hold the handrails on the stairs. So I waited somewhat impatiently for my translation.
Precisely two weeks later, the translation was done and I scheduled my defensive driving course for Thanksgiving morning. (BP, being British, doesn't recognize Thanksgiving as a holiday.) I thought I'd go see a video and that would be it. Little did I now that I had to pass both a written test and a practical driving test before BP would consider me legal. Our driver Elnur (yep, we have a full-time driver...very colonial of us) took me to the BP transportation center and found Fuad, my defensive driving instructor. Fuad offered me tea and did a speed read of his PowerPoint safety driving presentation. Good thing everything he said was in the slides 'cause I couldn't understand a word through his accent. Then came the 10 question multiple choice test. None of the questions were covered in the presentation. Doesn't seem fair, does it? And half the questions were about European road signs that I'd never seen before.
For example, what does this sign mean? Danger? Don't go there? Road ends abruptly? Turkey crossing? Wrong, wrong, wrong. It means yield to the right. Never in a million years would I have guessed that. Perhaps I may have figured it out while driving if given some real-time context. I mean, if a semi were barreling down on me from the right, I might just decide to yield. But that goes back to "bigger goes first"--the golden rule of Cairo driving. I yielded to a lot of tour buses driving on the wrong side of the road in Egypt. They were bigger so they got to go regardless of what side of the road they were supposed to be using.Fuad was very gracious and helped me with the answers. And what do you know? I got them all correct! Whew! Passed the written exam.
Next came the actual driving. Fuad gave the Pajero a visual once over. Do we have a first aid kit, fire extinguisher, and traffic triangle? Ummmm, we must if it's a BP car. I know, let's ask our driver. I'm happy to report we did have all those things and Elnur knew right where they were. Fuad decided that we need a bigger fire extinguisher. Does that mean we're having a bigger fire? If a prepared turkey costs $145, I wonder what a working fire extinguisher will run us.
I had lots of new rules to remember for the driving test: don't cross the double white line in the middle of the road, use turn signals, use mirrors, don't speed, yield, keep 2 seconds of distance between me and the car in front. Basically all the things I haven't been doing during the past 7 years of 2nd and 3rd world driving. There are two additional big adjustments--stop for cops and remain at the scene of an accident--two things American diplomats never do! We ignore police (just because we can) and drive away from accidents if the vehicle is still mobile. Why? Because our license plates identify us as Americans and we tend to draw unfriendly crowds when we've accidentally crashed our SUVs into Egyptian donkey carts and old Russian cars. That's what I've heard anyway.
We all hopped into the Pajero, Fuad in the passenger seat and Elnur in the back. But....where was my power of attorney authorizing me to drive? I didn't have it; Fuad didn't have it. A few minutes of scurrying around and Fuad located the prized document in an office somewhere. Off we went.
As we approach the main road, Fuad yells stop. I've apparently missed some sort of stop light or sign. I never did find what I missed because next Fuad was telling me to go, go! Finally, we're cruising down the road, and I'm reining in my Cairo driving habits trying to remember all the rules. And then....
Fuad: You crossed the double white line.
Chris: There's no lines on the road.
Fuad: Yes, but I know where the line is supposed to be.
Chris: Well then maybe they should repaint the lines on the road!
the Rory voice in Chris's head: Put the shotgun away.
(Rory likes to say that when I'm ready to take someone's head off for annoying me.)
Our drive took about a half hour or so of me trying not to run stop lights (they're hard to see and hard to remember to look for after four years of no stoplights whatsoever in Cairo), trying to stay on the correct side of the sometimes visible double white line (I really, really had to pass that truck though), remembering to yield even when I was the bigger car, trying not to speed...it was tough.
In the end Fuad gave me a couple more you crossed the double white line admonishments, told me I don't use the mirrors enough, and said I follow too closely. Of course I follow closely. If I don't then more cars get in front of me! Fuad declared me fit to drive, and I'm now officially street legal in BP's eyes.
The ultimate end to the adventure though was Elnur's amazed comment as he emerged from the backseat: You're a really good driver! I know, impossible for a woman to know how to drive.
Luckily there's no donkey carts on the roads in this town, so I should be fine. All bets are off when we head outside Baku though.
1 comment:
So these are the rules you have to follow for BP, but are there any rules that the locals have to follow??? Congrats on being mobile.
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