Often times in life it is imperative to do things that we really don't want to do. A couple of weeks ago, such a situation arose. In that my NC drivers license will be expiring shortly, Mick felt that I must acquire Ecuadorian license. Included in the various documents that are required, is a certificate from a driving school (escuela de conduccion).
Driving has never been my forte. Considering my past driving record and personality change when behind the wheel, I've been quite content being chauffered by the Mickster, who by the way is an excellent driver. I, on the other hand, have never quite mastered that ability.
I received my first driver's license at the age of 14. Just prior to obtaining that valuable piece of paper, I had my first accident. Of course, it was not my fault. Of course, I had no licensed driver in the car, only a friend. To my good fortune, the highway patrolman who worked the accident was a friend of Daddy's and failed to include some of those vital facts. I cried and carried on, wet my pants, got sympathy from Mother and Daddy, the car was repaired (a 1968 Ford Fairlane), and life went on. There were several more before meeting Mick.
Mick was not quite as sympathetic when it came to my accidents. He never believed that it was someone else's fault and with one of my vehicles, he simply stopped having it repaired.
It seems that I'm a somewhat aggresive driver, which has been a problem. I have been flipped off, followed and cursed out a number of times, and also had quite a few tickets. All of this resulted in expenditures and reprimands from my husband. Most of these incidents were caused by my extremely poor eye-hand coordination (Mick discovered many years ago to never toss anything to me) and the fact that I usually get really pissed off when I drive. Welcome to Ecuador. I figure that I'll blend right in; however, Mick thinks that I could very well injure myself. Tranquillo, tranquillo.
Considering that Mick and Jim were successful alumni of ANETA, it seemed logical to follow suit. My classes began on April 30. Day 1 was first aid and psychological videos...road rage...none of me. Mick took me over to ANETA on Ordonez Lazo to find that it was empty. There was a fellow that he knew who informed us that it had moved. Clarke and Brenda arrived at about the same time and joined us in the ride to the new facility on the road to San Joaquin. It seemed that everyone else knew about the move because there were many students there. Someone had failed to call the gringoes. Day 2 was mechanics. Car mechanical stuff is just as boring in Spanish as English and every car part was mentioned. The actual classes and practical were Monday through Friday, with the exams on Friday.
My driving time was 6AM until 9AM. When Mick took the class, he went to Azogues, Tarqui, etc. I went downtown. I drove in circles; it was brutal. Everyday, Mick would help with questions, checking my answers. The next day in class, we were not given the correct answers.
The fleet of cars prior to being checked out for the day in the parking lot of ANETA.
I was very leary of the driving test, in that it was a weakness. However, I passed with 18 out of 20 whatevers. The written test was different. I don't think grad school was as difficult and I was far less nervous with the PRAXIS. The setting was not conducive to test taking. The instructor, Ivan, was at the door laughing with a female employ and there was much talking and cheating occurring; however, I guess that was OK. The Spanish was OK also; however, there were questions I didn't have a clue as to the answer, English or Spanish. We had been told that there would be no questions on 2 of the chapters. LIE! I missed passing by 1 question.
I called Mick and told him that I had failed. "How could you have failed???? We went over every question!" I cried,"there were questions I'd never seen and I didn't have a clue!"
When I got home, "show me the questions!" I looked and looked in the test bank. My test had questions also from those 2 chapters that we didn't touch. The one that comes to mind is what you do when a tire blows out. Calling AAA was not an option. I had been told that I could retake the test the following Friday; they only test on Fridays.
Mick told me to get my butt back out there and complain; which I did. I was told that I could take the test on Monday morning.
So after ruining the family name and going through a weekend of embarrassment, I retested on Monday morning and achieved 19 out of 20, in Spanish, with no help. It was anticlimactic considering it was a do-over.
When the certificate arrives from Quito, I will then take the government test for the license. Anyway, it's done and I won't have to take it again. Those cab drivers don't know what they're in for.
Until next time,
Mick and Kathy
Hank and Bob about to chow down on burgers by Mick.
Elaine and Sherry with the new building in the background.
We helped celebrate Jim and Selene's 10th anniversary at La Vinoteca.
One morning at the Coffee Tree, Jim had forgotten his cap, so he simply did what some of the Cuencanas do.
Saturday there was a roadtrip to Gualaceo and Chordeleg with the Woods. Nikolas needed a potty break, so Pat and Mick checked out the river in Gualaceo.
Pat, Sue, and Mick
There was a parade in Gualaceo honoring the 50th anniversary of the Polytecnica high school. This is one of the marching bands. The parade route was probably 2 miles long, marching in high heels.
The military ensemble.
Someday, they will regret the heels.
The beginning of the float.
The float
Marching also were representatives of ALL the classes.
Freddy, a friend of Mick's from driving school, was in it. He's in the white shirt, jacket and sunglasses, no hair.
More alumni.
The final band was of the recorder variety.
You never know when you're going to see a parade.
Until next time,
