Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts

Saturday, February 6, 2010

Blogging Marathon Chapter 3

English


Globalization

Truck driving ethics are kind of a global disease. How is it possible for so many different people to grow up so far away from each other, experience culturally divergent lives and yet acquire the same values?!

I spent one week in a Qatar recently and a truck nearly killed us. It was also at night, there was construction everywhere and the side of the road looked like one huge excavation. The pick-up driver behind us decided to glue his truck to our behind so closely had the car in front of us braked suddenly, there would have been no way for him to avoid crashing us! Once in position, he started flickering his lights on and off for a good minute indicating that he wanted us to move to the side which was basically impossible for us at that moment. He kept his little game until we finally could move aside (and hubby was completely blind) and then just kept on driving to our left and pushing us to move further to right, where the excavation was! Hubby managed to slow down and get rid of him and when the psycho overtook us; his passenger flicked a lit cigarette on our windshield! Like I said: ethics.

Dubai truck drivers are not better, far from it. I was driving on a highway near a residential area in Barsha. A crazy construction truck behind me kept honking for me to move aside on a road still under development. It was narrow, bumpy and twisted like Metn’s mountain streets (although Dubai is flatter than flat) and basically, very difficult for me to move aside for this gigantic monster to have enough space to overtake me. At the intersection, the road becomes wider and then merges with a huge highway on the left and a massive ramp on the right which is where I needed to go. Finally, there was enough space for the truck to overtake me. The monster carefully positioned himself in front of me, blocking my view and obstructing me from taking my lane. I couldn’t go further to the right and get away from him since other cars were driving really fast on their way to the ramp. I couldn't go to the left because it was not the direction I needed to take; I had to go up on the ramp and he was still driving slowly and blocking my view and my way. When he finally moved and took the left road at the very last second, I realized he was trying to force me into an accident by pushing me to crash in the ramp border! I was a few centimeters away from a huge accident! All I could think about was what if I had children with me in the car? I could have easily collided and God knows what would have happened.

Every day in Dubai we hear of bus drivers speeding and crashing and killing the passengers with them. Every day in Dubai we fear for our lives and those with us in the car as we try to control our actions and predict others’ irresponsible behavior. Every single day.

These people have absolutely no value for human life. They don’t care if they drive you into an excavation or crash you on a highway ramp. They are probably just so bored and tired of driving all day and night that they take their anger out on innocent people for no valid reason. Never mind sending someone to a hospital or even the morgue!

Seriously, I don’t care about these people’s backgrounds (education, financial status, etc.) because I know that money doesn’t make ethics. Either you have it or you don’t. You don’t need a good job to value human life. You don’t need to make millions to act responsibly and think of innocent lives and innocent children.

These public dangers on wheels are just criminals; they’re evidently psychopaths who need to be locked up and if needed, institutionalized and treated.

Blogging Marathon Chapter 1
Blogging Marathon Chapter 2


Finally, a review of my fav’ categories ;)

& Don’t forget to check the visual posts ;)

Friday, February 5, 2010

Blogging Marathon Chapter 2

English


Lebanese Math

Bad lighting and mad overtaking are just two of the many idiocies that make the “Lebanese way” a uniquely insane way.

We have the infamous “four lanes for two lanes” rule. What the hell is she talking about you ask?! Simple, take any small one-way street designed for two lanes of cars, and you’ll find drivers squeezing themselves until finally; there are four lanes of cars in critical positions and ready to hit each other at any given moment. I have to admit, you need special talents to drive like that. I can appreciate talent, yes.


There’s also the can’t-make-up-my-mind guy who’s always in the middle of the road during traffic; continuously wondering which side to take in between two lanes. It’s the “just in case” technique which is basically to wait in the middle of the street and see which lane is faster. But since it’s traffic, no particular lane is more interesting than the other so our smart outstanding citizen ends up driving in the middle of the road, eating up two lanes, the entire time.



Craziness everywhere!


The other day, I was visiting my grand’ma who lives at the top of a little hill, so basically, we have to drive up until we reach her building’s level and then take a hard turn to the right to enter her neighborhood all the time being very careful because we can’t see if anyone is driving out of the area at the same time (it’s one of those annoying blind spots).

We were nicely parked on the side and all of sudden a gigantic brand new white Mercedes jumps out of nowhere and nearly runs me over as I walk away from our car! It was a silly 18 year-old driver with her silly girlfriend on their way to pick up a third silly buddy. The area is known to be filled with children and pedestrians, which is why drivers are always careful and enter the street slowly and cautiously. Apparently, little miss sunshine doesn’t know how to control the big fancy car her daddy probably got her the day she turned 18 after having taught her how to drive around the house a few times; all nicely wrapped with a driver’s license she proudly got test-less.


Sexy Sandwich


Crazy people in little cars are nothing compared to psychos in big trucks! Not so long ago, I twitted about an incident on one of Lebanon’s major roads:

We were driving on a mountain road at night, and of course, the lanterns were off, as expected. We were in total darkness and there was one slow truck in front of us, one eager truck behind us; and to complete the sandwich, a third truck overtook the three of us! While honking!?! For a good half minute there, we were surrounded by trucks from the back, front and sides and had nowhere to go! Did I mention that all this happened while we were taking a turn? On a mountain road? In the dark?

Twitter transcript:

So was on the road almost all day today. What the f*** is wrong with truck drivers? Are they all insane? 9:35 PM Jan 11th

Don't get me wrong. I'm all for people having opportunities to work & make a living. But why kill us in the process? 9:37 PM Jan 11th

& It's not only in #Lebanon... #TruckDrivers everywhere seem to be insane. I'm sure driving for hours & hours can't be a joy but still!! 9:39 PM Jan 11th

Got stuck b/w 1truck in front of us, 1behind us & 1trying to overpass us + truck in front of us at once & HE HONKED! 9:43 PM Jan 11th

Seriously, we almost died like 16 to 17 times!! So many trucks & all completely insane! Overpassing! Honking! Speeding! 9:44 PM Jan 11th

THANK GOD I wasn't the one driving! But in Dubai we face the same shit on the road (..) 10:06 PM Jan 11th

Excellent! RT @w43L: @abouzeid دعوة مفتوحة من نقابة سائقي الشاحنات العمومية http://is.gd/64ScM by @HummusNation - 9:53 PM Jan 11th



Law-Abiding Citizen

The other day, we were driving from Charles Helou station towards Downtown and the traffic lights at the intersection were orange and flickering; which in light-language means: check all sides of the road and move if all is clear.

The roads at both sides were empty but the truck in front of us refused to move despite everyone’s honking! We couldn’t move either, not so much because he was blocking our way, but simply because we were laughing so hard we were cramping and had tears in our eyes. An overly law-abiding truck driver!! Unbelievable!

A nice guy in a BMW moved around the truck, honked at him, and got his hand out the window, flickering his fingers to mimic the orange flashing light and telling the truck driver that it was OK to move.

Nothing! The guy was just glued to the road!

After a few minutes, to the sound of (honk)music, he finally realized the light was not going to turn green, at all!

So he took his turn, and of course, stopped at the next traffic light. Except this one was red.

I swear to God, the guy couldn’t stop fidgeting! From the moment he reached the traffic light and until it turned green, he kept on restlessly moving a few centimeters ahead until he had literally gone past the traffic light and almost blocked the intersection!

So basically, he invents new regulations and stops when it’s not needed, causes congestions; and then when it’s completely unsafe to move, he can’t possibly hold for a few seconds and has to slowly but surely break the law, ignore a red light and cause more congestions!

Tune in for Blogging Marathon Chapter 3 tomorrow
Blogging Marathon Chapter 1


Finally, a review of my fav’ categories ;)

& Don’t forget to check the visual posts ;)

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Blogging Marathon Chapter 1

English


ONLY IN LEBANON…

Visual acuity is not a must while driving in Lebanon. Even by night.

At least according to hubby who’s definitely far away from a 20/20 with his Keratoconus (curious minds, redirect here) and a reference on bad eyesight.

Indeed, most of the times, bad vision can come in handy:

Drivers in Lebanon, if you wish to keep your sanity, turn a blind eye. Or eyes. You know what, don’t even look at all. Close your eyes if you must!

Drastic? I beg to differ considering the amount of stress-induced illnesses you’re bound to develop should keep your eyes on the road! I will dare to venture in the serious world of probabilities and assert that statistically, the risks of developing a heart condition and die due to the insanity you see on the roads are way higher than those of crashing and dying while driving with your eyes closed.

It seems the government and I see eye to eye (pun intended) on this matter: ONLY IN LEBANON, is it absolutely not necessary to maintain proper lighting at night on our very well-designed and already extremely safe roads (dear innocent non-Lebanese reader, I’m being sarcastic).

Road lanterns are for decorative purposes all year long; and once every four years, they serve as stands for our delightful politicians to stick their elections campaign posters. Various artists of the oh-so-very-entertaining entertainment industry do benefit from the space in between elections, true.

Considering his driving conditions, it is understandable hubby developed back and neck pains. No, his car is fine. The seat is very comfortable. It’s just that his head is out the window 90% of the times, cursing at other drivers, so does it really matter everything in the car is up to international standards of safety and comfort?

DICO PERSO : The Lebanese Way


What lacks any standard whatsoever however, are the driving skills of apparently everyone on the road!

And very quickly, even the most law-abiding visitors promptly acquire the survival skills of “Lebanese driving ways”, hubby included (he’s such a great driver abroad; he just goes mad when we’re back home)!

This unique style is based on the Lebanese “truth” that being smart means getting away with as much illegal activities (what others would call “crimes”) as possible.

Breaking the law is basically OK as long as you don’t get caught. Once you get caught, people will mock and scorn you, as they should you might say. Yes, except that they will not sneer at your law-breaking endeavors; instead they will ridicule your lack of what they’d call street-smartness.

Bottom line: Be smart and show off your intelligence by breaking the law without getting caught.

By the way, following laws will also get you ridiculed and labeled as stupid because if you choose to abide by the rules it simply means you’re too dumb to find a way around them (!)

And this logic applies on the road.
Never-mind safety.
Drive like a crazy rally pilot on crack and you’ll be crowned King of the Wheel.

“This is how we drive here”

Hubby is from Elissar, a small town in Metn which is basically made of a collection of little towns connected by internal twisted mountain streets, and with a large main road cutting through the whole area. Every time we decide to visit his parents, we end up fighting on the way.

No people, don’t be quick to judge. We don’t fight because I don’t enjoy spending time with my in-laws; far from it. They’re a wonderful and very kind family.

We fight simply because I can’t seem to get used to the Metn driving style.

In theory, the main road is designed in such a way as to safely and comfortably fit two lanes, one in each direction (i.e. up and down the mountain). The road is not a straight line, obviously, and somehow, drivers find it OK to overtake each other even if they can’t properly see the cars coming the other way. Moreover, drivers find it OK to overtake each other even if another car is already overtaking the car in front of them!

Get it?
No?

Allow me to demonstrate:
(People with actual Adobe skills, please forgive me!)


It’s OK and very natural for two cars to overtake the same car, at once:
  • Car 1 is on its track
  • While Car 2 is overtaking it
  • And suddenly Car 3 decides to overtake both of them at once because waiting a few seconds is just not an option
  • In other words, three lanes of cars going in one direction, and no space at all for Car 4 coming the other way

It’s a wonder we don’t see a hundred accidents on the roads every day!

Hubby has been driving up and down this road for about 17 years so he knows it by heart. Believe me when I say that’s an understatement; he could literally go through it with his eyes closed. He knows every single turn, every single bump and every single hole!
(This goes to show how well maintained our infrastructures are)

So when I go nuts every time cars around us do crazy stuff, hubby just answers with his favorite motto: “this is how we drive here”.


Tune in for Blogging Marathon Chapter 2 tomorrow


Finally, a review of my fav’ categories ;)

& Don’t forget to check the visual posts ;)

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

The meaning of "Finally"

English ✮ Français

Here's a little story about little me:

Those of you who have been following know how hard I've struggled (yes, yes, I'm taking the big words out) with my driving school and my license.

Well this morning at 9:00am, the suffering ended!!
I mean FINALLY ended ;-)

I don't even want to think about my previous trials here, here and here.

You're probably wondering what took me so long. Well after my last failure I got so frustrated I decided to change branches (and thus, examiners, as mentioned in previous articles, each center/branch has its own on-site based examiners). So it took a few weeks for the school to move my file and assign me a new instructor. So basically, last week, I took exactly three classes just to familiarize myself with the area and the roads and this morning, went for my exam. First trial: Pass.

To tell you the truth, I thought that I was doomed to roam the roads in taxis and I welcomed the metro with open arms thinking it would be my new best friend forever! I'm still planning to use it on a regular basis: love public transportation and quite honestly, hate traffic so in Dubai, the metro appears to be a great ally for me ;-) But since we're moving to a new location which is quite far from the actual city, I'm going to need to drive especially that at the moment, it's still under construction and there are no accessible buses in the area.

After my humiliating failures I was beginning to think that I was not meant to be a driver and that I should just accept my wheel-less life. I mean come on, why else would I fail so much?

But on the very first day I started at the new branch, my instructor told me that the examiners at my former branch are very well-known in the school for failing the students five, six, and sometimes more than ten times before giving them a license. That explains a lot (see previous posts here, here and here where I talk about the poor girl who tried 13 times and still failed... Don't know what happened to her at the end though; hope she got to appreciate the meaning of "FINALLY" too).

And this morning I thought, well if I fail again, that really means I am a bad driver and obviously a danger to myself and others so I should really rethink the whole driving thing. After all it was an entirely new area, new roads, and most importantly a new examiner.

Again (I love to say this): Three classes; One test; Pass.

So yes, peeps! I CAN DRIVE! I'm not a bad a driver. I was just at the wrong center!!

I have to go back tomorrow to pick up my license... Will share it with you for certain!! :-) In the meantime, here's the report form where it's written in big letters (and in Arabic :-P):


PASSED

I have just one last word addressed to my baby sister:

ÉPICE, IT'S YOUR TURN NOW!!!


Fancy some Frenchy?
Oki Doki then :-)


La signification du mot "ENFIN"

Donc voila ma petite histoire:

Ceux qui suivent ce blog savent déjà que j'ai beaucoup souffert (oui, oui, les grands mots!) avec mon auto-école et mon permis.

Et bien ce matin at 9h00 exactement, j'ai mis fin au supplice!!
Je veux dire, j'ai ENFIN mis fin au supplice ;-)

Pas besoin de se remémorer les essais précédents here, here et here.

Vous vous demandez surement pourquoi j'ai mis une éternité avant de l'avoir ce permis. Et bien j'étais tellement frustrée après mon dernier échec, que j'ai décidé de changer de branche (et donc d'examinatrice puisque comme je l'avais expliqué dans mes billets précédents, chaque branche a son propre groupe d'examinatrices). Il a donc fallu quelques semaines pour que mon dossier soit transféré d'un centre à l'autre et qu'une nouvelle prof soit disponible. La semaine dernière j'ai enfin pu reprendre les cours. Juste trois classes pour me familiariser avec la nouvelle zone et ses routes et ce matin, j'avais mon test. Premier essai: Réussi.

À vrai dire, je croyais que j'étais condamnée à errer en taxis et c'est d'ailleurs pour ça que j'attendais le métro avec tellement d'impatience. Je compte toujours le prendre régulièrement parceque j'aime les transports en commun et je déteste les embouteillages; alors à Dubai, le métro c'est quand même mon futur meilleur ami pour toujours! ;-) Mais vu qu'on déménage dans une nouvelle zone résidentielle qui n'est pas encore bien couverte du point de vue transports en commun, mon permis commençait vraiment à devenir une nécessité.

Suite à mes humiliants échecs, je commençais vraiment à croire que j'étais un danger public au volant et qu'il valait mieux pour moi et autrui, que j'abandonne mon rêve de devenir automobiliste. Bein oui quoi! Qui raterait son permis autant de fois? Ce matin encore je m'étais dis que cette fois serais la dernière, si une nouvelle examinatrice me saque sur une nouvelle zone, et de nouvelles routes, le problème c'est moi, c'est sur!

Mais, et j'adore le répéter: Trois classes, Un test, Un permis.

Alors oui, JE SAIS CONDUIRE! J'étais juste au mauvais endroit!!

D'ailleurs, dès ma première séance, ma nouvelle prof m'a dit que l'autre branche est réputée pour son taux d'échecs et que personne ne passe avant cinq, six ou même dix essais; ce qui explique beaucoup (cf. mes précédents billets here, here et here dans lesquels je parle de cette pauvre fille qui a essayé 13 fois, en vain... Je ne sais pas ce qu'il lui est arrivé d'ailleurs, mais j'espère qu'elle aussi est quand même parvenue à apprécier la signification du mot "ENFIN").

Je retourne à l'auto-école demain, pour la dernière fois, pour prendre mon permis. Je promets de vous le montrer; entre-temps, je partage ce magnifique rapport où il est écrit en lettres gigantesques (et en Arabe :-P) le mot magique:


PASSÉ

En conclusion, il ne me reste plus que quelques mots à dire à ma petite sœur chérie:

ÉPICE, À TON TOUR!!!


. S H A R E . T H I S . P ✮ S T .



Ma Page sur Hellocoton

Thursday, June 4, 2009

La Galère avec un G majuscule

Ce matin j'ai répété mon test... Et j'ai encore raté le permis. Par contre, celle que j'ai pas ratée c'est l'examinatrice de mes précédents échecs (billet 1 + billet 2)... Quel bonheur!

J'arrive à 7h15 et attends patiemment: Galère numéro 1.

Une examinatrice arrive enfin, vers 8h00 et Oh Joie, c'est une nouvelle (pour moi) et elle sourit en plus!! Je lui donne ma fiche et elle me "cherche" sur son ordi pour pouvoir m'inscrire, et là, Galère numéro 2: je ne suis pas "dans le système". Ces retards sont apparemment habituels entre les branches de l'auto-école. Je cours donc au bureau des inscriptions ce qui est un peu déconcertant pour moi...

Pourquoi? Et bien parceque figurez-vous qu'hier je suis passée par ce même bureau, exprès, juste pour m'assurer que j'etais bien "dans le système" et on m'a assurée et rassurée et réassurée... Apparemment, il est inutile de prendre des initiatives de précaution! Quand ça doit merder, ça merde, quelques soient nos efforts!

Donc je perds mon temps ce matin encore et je retourne voir l'examinatrice qui me sourit (yes!) et s'excuse en me disant qu'elle a déjà affectée quatre filles à sa voiture et que je dois attendre le prochain groupe (merde!). Galère numéro quoi? Oui, c'est bien ça, numéro 3.

J'attends jusqu'à 9h00 quand une autre examinatrice arrive! (re-merde!)... J'aurais préféré attendre que la première revienne (obviously) mais bon; donc ma fiche est à présent avec la deuxième. Le truc c'est que je ne l'ai vu que de dos, et j'espère encore; quoi que son entrée glaciale, sans un mot, aurait dû suffire pour que je la reconnaisse: Galère numéro 4.

Elle appelle les quatre filles (dont moi) dans un certain ordre, qui est d'habitude l'ordre dans lequel on passe notre test. Vu que je suis la troisième à être appelée, je m'assoie sur le siège arrière. Elle est assise devant moi, et se retourne et me dit de venir m'assoir devant et de commencer. Si, si. Elle m'en veut tellement, qu'elle insiste à chaque fois pour que je sois celle qui fasse sortir la voiture du parking: Galère numéro 5.

Mais cette fois, je lui en fous plein la gueule parce que ma sortie en marche arrière est nickel! Je sors du parking de l'auto-école et continue mon parcours. Un sans faute! Son seul commentaire: je suis trop lente sur l'autostrade (une petite autoroute). Lente? C'est pas de ma faute si les panneaux de signalisation limitent la vitesse à 80km/h (je sais c'est super lent pour une autoroute, même avec seulement trois voies et tout le monde s'est foutu de la nouvelle ministre quand elle a fait installer ces nouveaux panneaux). Pour être honnête, je faisais du 70 ce qui est correct sur une voie dont la vitesse maximale est 80. Si c'est pas Galère numéro 6 ça, alors je sais pas ce que c'est!

Je subis la conduite horrible (voir même dangereuse des trois autres dans la voiture) et on rentre à l'état major. On attend une bonne demie-heure avant que son altesse ne nous appelle et là, j'en ai encore les larmes aux yeux, elle me sourit! Si, si, je vous jure! Mais je suis pas dupe moi! Je sais bien qu'elle m'a recalée. Son commentaire:

"Tu conduis très bien. Je ne peux pas te dire le contraire. Tu n'as fait aucune faute. Mais tu es trop lente sur l'autoroute. Je sais, les panneaux indiquent une limite de 80 à l'heure, mais nous, les automobilistes qui conduisons depuis longtemps (et par "nous", elle veut dire elle et tous les autres qui ont un permis, sauf moi quoi) nous savons que cette limite est ridicule. On la dépasse tout le temps, et puis quand on voit un radar, on ralentit"

Là je suis bouche-bée bien sur. Je la regarde en me demandant qu'est ce que je fous là et elle continue:

"Quand tu est trop lente, tu deviens dangereuse pour toi et pour les autres automobilistes. Ils arrivent en faisant du 100 à l'heure et toi tu veux passer d'une voie à l'autre avec ton 80, et tu les forces à ralentir soudainement et bam, accident!"

"Écoute, tu conduis bien, reviens la prochaine fois, accélère sur l'autostrade et tu passeras sans problème."


Donc en fait, les automobilistes qui font du 100 à l'heure sur une voie dont la vitesse maximale est de 80 ont raison. Moi j'ai tort de les surprendre en m'accrochant à la loi. Je dois juste respecter les limites quand il y a un radar devant moi (et donc une contravention).


Conclusion: j'ai loupé mon permis parceque je respecte les limites de vitesse.
Si, si! Puisque je vous le dit!!


C'est plus de la galère ça, c'est carrément de la %$&%&$%!!!



. S H A R E . T H I S . P ✮ S T .


Monday, June 1, 2009

Creeps in vans!



I had to put my driving classes on hold for a while since we traveled but I've now resumed and I had a class at noon.

I'm too lazy to call a cab and wait under the unbearable Dubai sun at 1:30 in the afternoon so I usually walk (yes, the unbearable Dubai sun seems less powerful when I walk, go figure) to get to a main road where I can catch a cab in just a few minutes; seconds even.

To put things in perspective, my driving school is located in what is called an industrial zone. As the name suggests, it is neither a residential area or a business hub (offices and stuff)... It's just huge warehouses, big trucks and mostly empty, sandy-dusty roads (my once-black, now-white tennis shoes speak for themselves). The driving schools are located there because there isn't much traffic and these are the only areas where learners are allowed to train.


So why wouldn't I wait in the school for the taxi?

Well simply because I would be the only woman sitting there, in the middle of this smelly so-called waiting room which is basically a few benches, too close to each other for my taste.

I had walked once before and found a cab very quickly not so far away, near the main road, so I figured, why not do it again...

Well, NOT ladies, NOT!
(And maybe even guys)

I started walking and after a little while I noticed a suspicious white van with apparently only the driver inside, approaching my way. The creep slowed down when he saw me and got his head out of the window to take a better look.


my creepy van doesn't exactly look like that; it was white, granted, but it might as well have had "Free Candy" written all over it because this is how it felt like! pervs!

I ignored him but his speed was so freaking suspicious that I took my phone out and released the keylock. After he passed by and was behind me, I looked back and saw him turning around and now driving in my direction again. I knew he was following me because he kept looking and smiling and just turning around me slowly.

I kept thinking "it's a van! there's no one around! he can knock you unconscious and hide you inside and no one would ever know!"

So I started to freak out!
(obviously)

Thankfully, a few cars were passing by at this point so I began shouting.

I saw his creepy face out of the window, smiling! The perv was still freaking smiling at me, driving as slowly as I was walking!! Following me!!

I started making big gestures with my arms and hands, showing him the phone and shouting, making myself clear that if he comes any closer, I am calling the cops.

As I was gesticulating like a crazy person, my driving instructor passed by me in her car... She stopped and picked me up... THANK GOD! She dropped me off only a few meters away, at the nearest bus station on the main road, where, as expected, I waited for less than a minute before a cab passed by.

I got home safely. Physically. Emotionally, I think I am still a bit freaked out, but I'll get over it.


So, yes, lesson learned:

no walking in industrial zones, alone...
or ever for that matter!



. S H A R E . T H I S . P ✮ S T .


Wednesday, April 29, 2009

Une journée qui commence bien

… C’est une journée qui commence à 5h du mat pour se préparer à temps, prendre un taxi pour un trajet de 45 minutes vers l’auto-école et rater son permis pour la deuxième fois. 

Comme la fois dernière, j’étais la première à démarrer et j’ai dû donc sortir du parking de nouveau mais avec un petit bonus ce matin: une voiture garée en double file collée a mes fesses. Apparemment, je devais faire un zigzag pour sortir. 

D’abord que deux fois de suite je sois la première, ça c’est un sacré coup de bol. 

Et un crétin qui gare une voiture en double file et bloque une autre voiture sur laquelle est écrit: « Attention! Student Taking Driving Exam » non seulement à l’heure des tests mais en plus dans le parking de l’auto-école où tout le monde est (en général) obligé de suivre le code de la route, il faut le faire! 

Mais que cette voiture sois garée juste derrière celle que je dois prendre, ça c’est plus de l’ironie, c’est carrément une conspiration!!

Bon je sais, j’exagère, mais quand même quoi… C’est vrai que tout ça, c’est gérable du point de vue psychologique. On est toujours stressés aux examens et bon il est vrai que dans la vie, il faut pouvoir s’adapter aux situations agaçantes, surtout quand il s’agit de prendre le volant. 

Par contre, que l’examinatrice soit une vraie petite salope, alors ça, je suis pas obligée de le digérer!

À la fin de notre petit tour en tuture, je savais que j’avais raté le permis. Le truc du parking c’était fatal, grave. On est allées au bureau, comme d’habitude et l’examinatrice nous a appelées une à une pour les commentaires. J’entre et là elle me déballe son discours en dialecte émirati et moi qui comprends un mot sur deux je réponds en anglais (comme partout ailleurs à Dubai). Et là il n’est plus question de mes aptitudes de conductrice mais de mes facultés linguistiques! Oui, oui, parfaitement. « Je n’aime pas les Arabes qui ne parlent pas Arabe. Et pourquoi est-ce que tu réponds en Anglais? Tu n’aimes pas la langue Arabe? Tu ne la trouves pas belle? Tu n’es donc pas au courant que l’Arabe est la langue officielle des Émirats et que tous les fonctionnaires du secteur public (donc elle y-compris) communiquent en Arabe? » (Ce qui est tout à fait ridicule et erroné: la majorité de la population à Dubai vient de l’étranger – d’Europe, d’Afrique, des Amériques, et surtout de l’Asie et même s’il est vrai que l’Arabe est la langue officielle, tous les fonctionnaires doivent également parler Anglais si non les 3/4 de la population ne pourraient rien faire). 

J’ai dû expliquer que j’ai passé toute mon enfance en France et que je ne m’exprime pas bien en Arabe et tout ça en gardant mon calme et un certain degrés d’amabilité parceque je l’avais déjà mentionné dans le billet précèdent, on ne peut pas changer nos examinateurs et je voudrais bien passer mon permis de mon vivant! 

Ce que j’aurais voulu dire c’est « espèce d’ignorante fanatique, intolérante et coincée, la langue Arabe diffère d’un pays à l’autre et ce que tu parles ce n’est pas de l’Arabe c’est du dialecte Émirati et en tant qu’Arabe je ne dois pas forcément le comprendre! Alors tu veux parler Arabe et me faire la morale, parle en Arabe soutenu. »

Mais au moins maintenant je comprend pourquoi elle m’a fait la gueule la dernière fois quand je lui ai demandé de me traduire en anglais un mot qu’elle avait dit alors que je conduisais.


Un petit background sur la langue Arabe: L’Arabe écrit/lu qui est considéré comme « l’Arabe », ou ce qu’on appelle Arabe soutenu, n’est pas l’Arabe parlé. Comme partout dans le monde, chaque ville et village a un accent particulier mais de plus chez les Arabes, chaque pays à un dialecte différent. Il est vrai que les pays voisins parlent des dialectes très proches. Donc même si les Libanais parlent libanais, ils comprennent le syrien ou le palestinien par exemple. Les Égyptiens parlent égyptien bien entendu, et comme dialecte, ce n’est pas aussi proche du libanais mais les deux restent quelque peu similaires. Par contre, les pays du Golfe s’expriment en ce qu’on appelle « Khaliji » et comme dialecte c’est complètement différent du libanais par exemple.

Mais ça existe aussi ailleurs, alors pour mettre les choses en perspective francophone : c’est comme si un québécois demandais à un français de comprendre tout ce qu’il raconte ou vice-versa. Et bein quoi? Les deux parlent bien français non? Et la langue officielle est bien la même non? 

Ah l’ignorance… L’intolérance… Le racisme… Le fanatisme… Toutes les qualités qui font de certains des êtres tellement plus… Je me tais. 

----

UPDATE ON THE GIRLS I HAD MENTIONED IN LAST WEEK'S POST:

LA FILLE DONT JE PARLAIS DANS MON BILLET LA SEMAINE DERNIÈRE, CELLE QUI AVAIT RATÉ SON PERMIS POUR LA 11ÈME FOIS ; ELLE ÉTAIT AVEC MOI DANS LA MÊME VOITURE CE MATIN… ET ELLE L’A RATÉ POUR LA 12ÈME FOIS… SI… SI… LA PAUVRE! ON S’EST DONNÉES RENDEZ-VOUS MERCREDI PROCHAIN! 
:-D LOOOL

THE GIRL I HAD MENTIONED IN LAST WEEK'S POST, THE ONE WHO HAD FAILED HER DRIVER’S LICENSE FOR THE 11TH TIME WAS WITH ME IN THE SAME CAR THIS MORNING… AND SHE FAILED AGAIN FOR THE 12TH TIME… YES… YES… POOR GIRL! WE AGREED TO MEET AGAIN NEXT WEDNESDAY! 
:-D LOOOL

THE OTHER ONE, WHO HAD FAILED 7 TIMES DID NOT SHOW UP WHEN I WAS THERE… SO I HAVE NO NEWS ABOUT HER… I HOPE SHE FINALLY PASSED! 

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Nouvelle Rubrique | New Category

God's infinite... 

... Irony :-)


What? You thought I was going to say "love", or "wisdom" didn't you? :-)


Well, God in his infinite "love" for men and infinite "wisdom" and knowledge of mankind, understands the importance of a good laugh... Hence his infinite irony! 

There. Happy? :-)


This category will tell true stories I've heard or witnessed, answering the eternal philosophical question:

Is God a funny dude?


OK, so, when you're a loser who'se been enganged to a girl for seven years and she finally dumps you and runs for her life while you idiotically decide to follow her around the globe (well to one country, but still, you took an airplane to get double-dumped) and then; in the the midst of "getting her back", you sleep around and get some dumb girl pregnant; marry the mother of your child and finally, your baby-girl... ends up sharing her birthday with your ex-fiancee (nice yearly reminder of how you screwed up your life); well yes, that's God being ironic!

Come on, admit it... 
God is one funny dude! Gotta love him! :-)


OK, I'm  not totally evil, and of course I've got experiences of my own with God's irony :-) And you can always count on me to share :-)


Right now, can't help but remember Le Coup De Bol on my birthday... A similar story happened today. I had already mentioned getting my period two days ago. But it was as if nothing had happened (physically I mean, because emotionally, I'm a train wreck these days). But thankfully, there was no abdominal pain or cramps and most importantly, my legs were fine. Usually they get so heavy I can't even lift them anymore!


But today, on the day I have to wake up at 5:30am and leave home at 6:30am to reach my driving exam location by 7:00am; well it’s today, on my unusual third day of the cycle that all these pains start! 


Background Health Note: 
This is the first cycle after my last curettage and I was kind of worried these past couple of days because my period seemed "light". Usually day one is the worst and then, the following three days pass by almost unnoticeable. But there you go. I worried for nothing. Today is actually like my usual first days only heavier (which is normal after a curettage; been there, done that!). Back to our story.


I couldn’t move when I woke up. Finally, with as much effort as possible, I got dressed and sat in a fetus position on the couch awaiting the call from the cab driver picking me up. Of course, my legs were useless and my abdomen cramps were unbearable and I think my belly was going to explode! 

Seriously, no pants would fit and I settled for one of my pregnancy jump suits! Yes, there! I said it! In the unbearable heat of Dubai, I was wearing a long sleeve sweat-shirt because I can’t take my chances with the air conditioning and despite it being on in the car, I was sweating like a pig in the taxi, holding my stomach the whole time and unable to move the entire 40 minutes it took us to reach the exam center. 

We finally get there and I find two other girls already waiting. We got to talking and I discover that the first one is there for the 7th time attempting to get her license! You think it’s bad? The second was there for the 10th time!! And to save you the suspense, they both failed and will be back next week to try again. Nope, it’s no typo. There’s no exclamation point because it’s no surprise; despite the fact that trainers keep telling us every single day that we are good drivers, and that we shouldn’t worry, and that we will pass, and blablablablabla. 

I asked the girls why they didn’t ask to change examiners since it’s the same one failing them over and over. Turns out, you need to go through a tedious procedure of changing schools and moving your file and stuff before you can switch exam centers (the RTA – Roads and Transport Authority which is the governmental body to organize exams and give licenses has examiners in each schools, testing the students of that particular establishment on location; they are not employed by the school though, obviously, and you never meet them until you get a road test; they are like VIPs in closed offices with locked doors on which you find very friendly notices such as “DO NOT ENTER – RTA STAFF ONLY” or “RTA Examiner – Students not allowed”).


So here’s how it goes. Four women get in the same car and they drive around the area (on nearby roads and even a highway with regular traffic -- and when I say "regular" I mean regular in that particular area which is not residential; it's like an industrial zone with heavy traffic mainly consisting of construction trucks and lorries) and then get back to the school where the examiner will give feedback. 

Since I must be the luckiest girl alive, the examiner calls my name first so I’ve got to take the car out of its parking spot, exit the center premises and get on the road. It was actually fine. Much better than I imagined it would be considering the amount of pain I was in. 

I played my little one-woman show as planned (because instructors tell us to always do this routine in large, visible movements, even if no adjustment is needed, to show the examiner you know the drill): Sit, Seat Belt, Seat Adjustment, Steering Wheel adjustment, Center Mirror Adjustment... And the freaking hand break!!!!! My God! Everyone kept saying "mirrors, mirrors, mirrors" and I forgot the freaking hand break, which I never do by the way!!  How could I forget it?!?! I'm such an idiot! Well, actually I'm such a hormonal idiot! 

I was in such a hurry to get it over with so I could go to the back seat, assume my fetal position and just hold my stomach until I hopefully faint and stop feeling the cramps anymore! 

Anyway, I knew I had failed just there. But of course, I still needed to go on my little ride because she should check everything to tell me all my mistakes and what I should focus on next time.

So we’re on the road and all's fine for a while. Then she asks me to change lanes which I do and find myself on the middle lane which can only take me to a left turn (the left being for a U-turn and the right reserved for those continuing straight) and I make the mistake of asking her “I go left?” … And she replies “Have you even taken lessons?”…  Mmmh… Ok… That went well. So I make my turn and now in addition to the cramps and leg pains, I have urges to just slap her!

Anyway, needless to say I’ll be seeing her pretty face again next week. 

But next week, I won’t be “menstrual-sweating” and hopefully I’ll stay focused. God Willing. Crossing fingers. Touching wood. Is there anything else I can do to ensure some good luck?


So back to our topic: Yes. Getting your period on the worst possible days (like when you’re on vacation/honeymoon in Paris, oui, oui, je suis très chanceuse; on your 30th birthday; or on your very first driving exam) is definite divine irony. 

God is a funny dude indeed. Still love him! :-) After all, he’s providing me with very provocative (lol, yeah right!) and unusual material to write about :-P Gotta appreciate the help! ;-)


As I write this, I’m lying on the couch, covered in my winter blanket cramping and shivering (although it’s freaking hot outside!!) and thinking that I nag too much! :-P


P.S.  I do know I deserved to fail though :-)

STRESSED AS HELL!

Stressed? 

There's your understatement of the year!! 


Every single day I have to deal with this @#$&$% of a driving school, is a f%^$ed up day gone down the toilet!! I just want to do this stupid exam, hopefully pass and get my license and never have to deal with these people again, ever!! 

For the record, I was very happy this morning. Got up smiling. Made my hubby coffee... Real coffee people, Turkish coffee, not the instant stuff... The house smelled great (because of the coffee, duh!) And enjoyed a few hours of nice, calm "waking up" time. Until.... Until that fatal phone call. I should burn all my phones! They only bring trouble!


My advice to all the young people out there... Even if you don't need a car (like me in my 20s, God I miss the good old days) just get your damn license anyway!! 

I think that going through this at 30, when my patience is not what it used to be (although I think it was always kindda thin) is making this whole experience so much more scarring! Ok, fine, scarring is a bit of an overreaction, but still... I'm mad as hell! :-@

Or is it because I just got my period yesterday and I'm totally hormonal?... 


Anyway, this day sucks (and it hasn't even started yet!!)