This blog consists of a series of letters written to my friend, a Syrian refugee who has moved into my neighborhood. We have become close friends in spite of a language barrier. Love needs no language but there are things I wish I could tell her. I write these letters in hopes that one day she will be able to read them.
I share in hopes that others will follow me on this journey and learn with me along the way
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6/23/2016
Beloved Safaa,
One of the best ways to jump right into American culture is to apply for a driver’s license. I am not saying that this is the best of American culture but it certainly is part of the American life. I knew getting drivers licenses for many members of your family was on the list of things to do but I didn’t think of what it might be like to maneuver through the DMV system through the eyes of an immigrant. I am used to it and I just endure the process as part of my American life. During our visits to the DMV, you just followed me as I took you from window to window in what appeared to be a scavenger hunt. I know it seemed like we were going in circles but I assure you, we were. I had no way to communicate this to you because how does one explain something that makes no sense? When it got so bad that I was embarrassed, all I could do was make our little sign language motion for “crazy” and say, “DMV crazy!” I could tell by your smile that you understood me.
No American looks forward to going to the DMV. I am sure there must have been some institution in Syria that is similar because I have found that humans in any country tend to create these difficult processes for getting simple things accomplished. I usually think of the DMV as a place that could have been included in “Dante’s Inferno” section of “The Divine Comedy”. It’s one of the levels of hell where people stand in eternal lines that never end because if you ever do get up to the front, you are sent to another line and then another and another…
I have wanted so much to help you and your family with this task but this is one area where I failed you. I could tell that you felt bad that I had to take you so many times and you thought it was a burden. I never minded taking you because I wanted to see some success. I wanted to celebrate with you for each driver’s license in your family. We have only had one celebration so far, for your son. I can’t even take credit for that one because he went with a friend for his driving test.
I learned how difficult it is to try to get a driver’s license when you don’t speak English very well. The test is written in proper Arabic and I am told by friends that the translations are not very good. I don’t read Arabic so I couldn’t confirm. I have to tell you that many Americans think that the driving test should only be in English. They have no idea why that makes no sense. Honestly I never understood it either until I met you. This can’t be a linear thing where you learn English well enough to take a test in the language first, then get a job after passing the DMV requirements for a driver’s license. The Southern California public transportation system is not as accommodating as other states. Americans are so worried that people, especially immigrants, are not on public assistance but those are usually the same people that want to place such limitations as English only driver’s tests. I am ashamed to say that I used to think that many years ago. It was easy for me to think such things without having a first-hand knowledge of the hurdles it takes to come to a country and try to make a new life in a culture and language that are completely different than anything you have known.
I wondered how I could teach the driving rules with our language barrier. It has been a long time since I took that test. I know if I had to take it again I would fail. I have no accidents and no driving violations by some miracle that I can’t explain. I make up my own rules of the road so maybe I shouldn’t be teaching anyone how to drive. My one constant rule is that I drive with manners and kindness. After that, anything goes!
After your daughter failed the written test for the third time we tried to schedule a new appointment and paid the $33 fee to start the process over again. This was at my insistence because I knew after some more focused study, she would pass. I wondered what you thought as we went to the appointment window and they sent us to the front desk and the lady at the front desk tried to send us the appointment window who sent us back to the front desk. This is called cardio. I had already gone to the gym so I did not need another workout, but I thanked for being so considerate and explained that we would just stay put until they sorted it out amongst themselves. After a little DMV huddle they figured out why they couldn’t help us. We had to go home and make an appointment online. The appointment was for us to come in and pay the $33. After paying we could then make an appointment for the test. So I understood this to be an appointment to make an appointment. There was no amount of logic that was going to work here ― believe me I tried. I handed the clerk the $33 dollars but she refused to take it. We had to have an appointment. Sometimes you just have to accept that the DMV operates in an alternate universe with its own natural laws and we are only visiting. To try to alter the carefully planned red tape would create a tear in the space-time continuum. Rather than create a black hole or insist on a logical process I decided that we would return home and make a new appointment online. I had no way to explain this to you. Thank you for trusting me to return you safely to your correct parallel universe. DMV crazy!
On one of our many visits, I told the DMV manager, to get used to me because she would be seeing a lot of me. I also told her that I have learned so much about navigating the DMV, I could work there; no training needed. Just in case she wanted to take me up on that offer, I told her, “no thank you. Really, no thank you!” This is not to disrespect DMV employees in general. They don’t create the rules, they are just following them. As for me, I would get fired the first day because I couldn’t follow a process that made no sense. I would change it. But thinking outside the box at places such as the DMV is not done. If one clerk did it, another one might do it and before you know it there would be chaos, or efficiency and we can’t have that at the DMV!
The DMV employees are most likely unaware of the viewpoint of the poor souls who wait in lines, wait for their number, wait and wait and wait some more. As we sat there waiting, I wondered if these DMV employees hear that monotone female voice in their heads as they sleep… B 78 to window 15… F 29 to window 11… G25 to window 5.
Words I hate to hear: “You made a mistake on this form.” That means having to fill it out all over again even if it is a very small mistake. Then you get back in line and wait again. I am sorry about that one. You are so patient with this process and I wonder what you are thinking when I have to fill out the same forms again and again, either because of a mistake or because they updated the form to a new version and we had the old version.
Now that you passed your written test, we need to practice driving more. You did so well the other day especially considering that was the first time you ever drove a car. I should have taught you some driving vocabulary before I had you drive on the busy street. I couldn’t get my Google Translate app to open fast enough as the cars were coming up on us honking before passing on our slow drive. 20 MPH will not do along Foothill BLV. I just hit the hazard lights and hoped for the best such as avoiding a rear-end crash. But you know what? It was fun and we laughed and laughed. I looked at the smile on your face as you were driving and I felt so proud of you. This is friendship.
My friend, I will go with you to the DMV anytime because you are my friend and I am here to support you, to help you and to stand by you in any way I can. I know you would do the same for me if I needed you for any reason. You already have.
Your driving buddy,
Kathleen Jacobson
