Growing up in the
Philippines, I always had the luxury of having drivers take me wherever I needed
to go… to school when I was a kid, to the office after I graduated and started
working for our family business, and to the mall for shopping. It was just something that’s normal to most
families. The only problem we usually had was: who gets to use the driver if
you and your sibling have to go to different places at the same time. And for
those of you who don’t know, I have 5 siblings! What a pickle, right? But that
was the only issue. Given that my father is extremely protective of us, I never
really TRULY got to put my driving skills to test despite having a Philippine
driver’s license, a license that my dad helped me procure without having to wait in the long lines or even undergo a practical driving test. I was so privileged to
have parents who made sure that their children got everything they wanted and
needed without having to work REALLY hard for it or even lifting a finger.
When I learned how to
drive, my dad bought a car just for me to use. The funny thing was, I never
really got to go anywhere with “my car” alone farther than our office which was
10-15 minutes away. Some of those instances I even had to conceal from him
because if he knew that a driver was available and I still drove alone, he’d
have something to say about it. When I wanted to get Starbucks drinks for me
and my sisters, he’d say he’ll be the one to buy them for us instead. Yes, being that
protected was a privilege, yet somehow being that sheltered made me feel afraid…afraid
to be independent and to venture out on my own. But you have to know, I was a
very obedient daughter, I happily followed my parent’s wishes for their peace
of mind and let them continue taking care of me (meaning spoiling me) however
way they want to. I kind of enjoyed being sheltered. It was what I was used to.
I was comfortable with that lifestyle and I appreciated the fact that they
loved us so much to have us enjoy these luxuries even when I was already 29
years old.
So can you imagine how
much of a change that kind of life is to the life I have now in the U.S.???
When I first moved here, I immediately saw the difference. Everybody here is
INDEPENDENT and you have to learn how to drive on your own. That was the norm
here in this country. It meant that eventually, I have to learn to become one
of those people. At the gas station, I observed that people had to go out of
their cars to pump their own gas, even the elderly! In Manila, you don’t even
have to go down from your car at all because you have someone else to pump the
gas for you, and even have someone bring you your bill for payment. Gone were
the days when I could just sit back, relax, and listen to my IPOD through
traffic before getting to a particular destination without having to pay attention
to the roads and directions. I knew that I had to learn a different way of
life, starting by learning how to drive ALONE and to destinations that are more
than 10 minutes away from home.
I already knew how to
drive even though I lacked the confidence… but in Manila, that’s all you needed
to know. As long as you can get from point A to point B, you’ll be fine. You
have to follow traffic lights, of course, but that’s pretty much it. Here in
the U.S., they actually have RULES that you NEED to follow if you don’t want to
get pulled over by a cop and have to pay the fine for your violation! There are
ever-changing speed limits that you need to be aware of, STOP signs that actually
require you to stop for a good 3-seconds before you can move on, and other
rules that make it confusing for a beginner like me. There's the difficulty of entering and exiting the freeways/highways at 65-75 mph during rush hour! And oh, I have never EVER parallel parked in my whole entire life and apparently, that's something you have to ace in order to pass the license exam.
Even though I passed the
computerized test at the DMV with a score of 92 or 93%, getting behind the
wheel was an entirely different story. My husband knew that so he enrolled me
to a driving school here in Tucson. I was signed up to complete four 3-hour
driving sessions with an instructor. We both thought it was the best way to go
rather than rely on him just teaching me what he knows. After all, I’ve always
learned best through formal instruction. Call me a nerd, but I loved learning
that way. This was one of those few times that I had to face a challenge
without my parents’ help. There are no shortcuts. No bribing people to get what
you want (which is common in the Philippines). It was ALL ME taking on
something by myself and if I succeed or fail, there’s nobody else to blame but
yours truly.
My instruction permit which allowed me to drive with a companion |
I was lucky enough to
end up with a very nice lady for a driving instructor. She was encouraging and she
always gave me positive reinforcement. See, I work best with positive
reinforcement – that means no tough love please. I know that some people
believe that you have to push someone really hard to give them that drive to
succeed. But I’m not one of those people. Praise me when I do well, and let me
know when I commit a mistake, but don’t bring me down because it makes me mess
up all the more. I guess that stems from being a perfectionist. We can't accept the fact that sometimes we don't get things right the first time! My instructor’s
manner of teaching motivated me to do my best. It also helped that she didn’t reprimand me in an intimidating manner whenever I committed a mistake.
She was always cool, calm, and she would only tell me “it’s okay”, even when I
drove over a curb one time while making a turn! OOPS! Now I make sure to give
ample space whenever I turn right or left.
It wasn’t always easy
though. Being a perfectionist made it difficult for me to accept my mistakes. I
hated the feeling of failing. I became so hard on myself on days when I go out
with my husband to practice yet still don’t get it right, mostly on the parking
aspect. At times I even resorted to crying just to release my frustrations. I
even had a nightmare that my nice instructor got fired for being too lenient on
me and that they replaced her with a STRICT, burly man who wouldn’t let me get away with the
littlest mistakes! Yes, I tend to get a little paranoid with things. It was only
when I stumbled upon Paulo Coelho’s blog excerpt that I realized that it was
alright to make mistakes.
"THE WISE UNDERSTAND
THAT REPETITION HAS A CAUSE: TO TEACH THE LESSON THAT NEEDS TEACHING.
REPETITIVE SITUATIONS REQUIRE DIFFERENT SOLUTIONS EVERY TIME. THE ONE WHO FAILS
MUST NOT SEE THIS AS A MISTAKE, BUT RATHER AS A STEP TOWARDS GREATER KNOWLEDGE.
THOMAS WATSON SAID: WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO GIVE YOU A FORMULA FOR SUCCESS? IT’S
QUITE SIMPLE REALLY. DOUBLE YOUR RATE OF FAILURE."
From Paulo Coelho, I’ve
learned the importance of repeating the same thing. For once, I am telling
myself that it’s OKAY to commit mistakes and not be embarrassed about it. I
realize now that in order to truly master something, I have to keep doing it.
Being open to this concept has helped me grow. It’s such a simple change in
attitude but one that’s really effective. Training is not routine. It is essential.
On the day of my
driving test, I was so nervous and worried that I was going to fail that it
took a lot out of me mentally. But as with anything in my life that is scary
and inevitable, I just faced it with pretend confidence, no matter how shaky,
and did it. I consumed a bottle of Starbucks Mocha frappuccino beforehand because
I “believe” that it keeps me ALERT and that it gives me an extra boost of
energy. I’ve always taken one before every lesson, so this time should be no
different. I wore my Mom's charm necklace for good luck and of course, said a little prayer before stepping out to face my challenge. Fortunately, my instructor was so nice from the very
beginning. She made me feel relaxed and empowered whenever I heard
encouragement from her. It didn't feel like a test where she was scrutinizing my every move. It just seemed like we were on one of our driving sessions. We even chatted about what meals we usually cook at home. I told her I make Asian dishes and she said her specialty was lasagna and meatloaf. At the end of it all, she told me I am an excellent
driver and that I passed with no problem. AN EXCELLENT DRIVER! To be honest though, I wanted a SCORE
but I guess knowing that I passed with flying colors should suffice. Once again,
it’s the nerd in me talking…curious to know whether I got 100%!
I finally got my
official ARIZONA driver’s license soon thereafter. However, I wouldn’t have
been able to do it without my husband’s support. He was always so patient in
taking me out every weekend to practice. He probably had a few moments of panic
and near heart-attacks, but he never stopped believing in me even when I
doubted myself.
I love my parents and I appreciate the way they take care of me
(who doesn’t want to be spoiled?), but now that I am doing things for myself
and standing up on my own, I hope they’re proud of me. Now I can do what I’ve
always wanted to do now that I can drive alone: put on some good music from my
alternative playlist and SING LIKE NOBODY’S WATCHING! And that, my friends, is
one of life’s simple joys for me.
This is not my car, but I hope to have one of these someday... |
This is one of the paths I take to pick up my husband from work. Imagine driving down a long winding road with your favorite car tunes... :) |
Learning to drive through a driving school is probably more common than most people realize. In communities across the country, you can find small, commercial schools devoted to the teaching of basic driving skills to students of all ages.
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