What a man wouldn't do to earn the right to gloat? Yes, I passed on the first try. A China driver's license now bears my name.
What's the big deal? Millions have license to drive. Even my 16-year is about to have hers. Like a wise man said to me many moons ago, “Everything is possible, nothing is easy in China.”
The forms for driver license application is available only in person from the equivalent of DMV (车辆管ç†æ‰€) with a critical difference — the only one with “foreign affair office” (外事处) is located in Beijing deep south. Exactly the other sise of the town, if you are like other holders of foreign driver's license. You need to fight the Beijing traffic for an hour to reach this office to get the forms. And we have just begun…
The process resembles a poorly designed scavenger's hunt. First, get a physical exam from one of the approved hospitals. The exam took less than 5 minutes, but the locating of the hospital, registration, payments (1RMB for registration, 10 more for the exam), finding the exam room, and, finally, having the form officially chopped took about two hours. If you don't speak Chinese and do not have an interpreter, forget it.
Next, translate California driver's license. Again, the translation took 10 minutes (including the time to print and affix the red chop). But finding the officially licensed translator took time. This person charged RMB150 to translate my name (after I told him what it is in Chinese).
With two preciously chopped documents, I applied for a test date. This step, again, must be done in person.
Second time, I trekked south to queue up behind this stone counter. It was my fortune to stand behind someone whose doctor did not sign the exam form (I checked quickly and relieved). He pleaded for half an hour and finally left.
My heart sank when the military uniform lady told me the forms must be filled with a felt-tip or fountain pen (I used a ballpoint pen, sinfully). I was grateful when she allowed me to trace all my writings with a pen she provided. I felt like a kindergarten kid (look Mom, I traced.) She examined my documents for about 5 silent minutes and started this lightening fast blurry chopping sequence. I was told to wait for few minutes for my “permission certificate for the test.”
The onerous process motivated serious test preparation. I chose to study and be tested in simplified Chinese (among 10 language choices). I went to bed early and arrived the test site an hour early. The waiting room quickly filled up with people holding the same material I have, just in different languages. No one wished to be late. I noticed about a third of us studied the Chinese version.
Since I sat on the 1st row, I overheard the results of my fellow “classmates.” About a third of them did not pass. One was visibly upset, since it was his 2nd time.
The 4th, and last trip, to DMV will be 5 days after the passage of the test. This trip will be a short and happy one — to get the actual license.
It seems to me that the process does not need to change, but can be made friendlier. For example, physical exam and translation services can be provided on the premise or a branch office can be offered closer to the target population. But I guess this is why FESCO charges RMB800. The convenience costs and a business spawned.
Driving in Beijing is clearly a big deal for foreigners. By estimate, there are 70,000 registered foreign residents and about 3,000,000 short-term visitors, per year, in Beijing. (Many people live in Beijing with the multi-year 90-day-stay business visas.) Local DMV counts less than 20,000 driver licenses issued to foreigners.
Well, the foolhardy way earns so much more bragging right. And that's what we really live for.