1. Breath in, think happy thoughts
This is definitely a long process that tests your patience. Perhaps it was designed specifically for potential road ragers in mind so that they wouldn't get a license without successfully running around the maze first.
2. The circus begins
My roommate Sheeran and I walked from the bottom of our mountain base to the Talpiot neighborhood, replete with tired malls next to each other. The first actual step was to go pick up the revered tofes yarok, green form, which is the base of all of future work necessary for the process. The office that provided this form was pretty unremarkable and drab, not too dissimilar from the orthopedic office we originally thought was the correct door. The woman at the desk was hardly interested in looking at us, though our eyes were strictly set upon her. Gorgeous as she was, her demeanor evoked a thought of what I'd consider 'deficient in manners,' as one might say in American speak. After barking orders at us to request our papers, we signed some forms and took an ID picture, which was then printed on the form in an exquisite display of technology.
3. The eye test
We went all the way from the first office where we got the form and picture taken to the very same office where we took an eye test.
The woman who administered the test must be a true sleeper agent - or she was just having a long and tired day. Of the 20 minutes we were in their office she probably slept 15 of them. I passed my vision test with ease and won't have restrictive lenses for my license, thanks in part to my contacts.4. Find some luck
Sheeran's family must own half of Talpiot. We said hi to three of his cousins within a one block radius. One of his cousins works in a mall across from the building we were in. In order to get to the main entrance/exit, Sheeran suggested we go down a set a staircases over yonder. We didn't find stairs, but instead a doctor's office. I had been on the phone and internet for a while at Sheeran's cousin's store to try to find a local location of the insurer I belong to - without much luck (I shouldn't have to add). I asked the receptionist if she knew where the closest Maccabi office (health insurer) was. She asked for my insurance card, thinking that she wanted to look it up by the plan. In actuality, she verified that my insurance was valid and told me that I could go see the doctor. Today. Without an appointment. No wait. No co-pay. No way in the USA. I had the doc sign the form as required and spoke with him about health insurance in general. So easy.
5. The DMV is the same everywhere - and equally as happy of a place
My next stop was to go to the licensing authority, again just less than a block away. As we entered through tougher-than-usual security,
I took a number in the line. The forty or so numbers before me passed pretty quickly. When my turn came, I told the gentleman that I needed to convert my foreign license to an Israeli one. "Only in the mornings," was his flat response. So I started to leave the building and then immediately rushed back and tried again. Explaining to his colleague that I am in class every morning, she made an exception for me and filled out the ridiculously little bissel of information she needed to record before sending me on my way.6. A needle in a haystack
I finally finished all of my bureaucratic work! With that behind me, I can go ahead and take driving lessons. This is probably to inundate immigrants with just enough finesse to make crazy driving not stand out. In order to do so, I have to find a moderately trustworthy driving instructor. I'm hoping that the instructor will not deviate from the ethical roots of the nation by requiring me to take more lessons from him instead of signing off that I am good to go, even though that would mean that he would be limiting his incoming cash flow. I should reiterate that the number of lessons I am required to take is at his sole discretion. Fingers crossed. However, I would like to take a few extra lessons on a manual-drive car to be able to be proficient in driving those, to make me more well-rounded and the like.
7. Yes you need to pay for that, too
I have not started this part of the process quite yet, but just reading about it is frustrating enough. After paying for the driving lessons, I have to pay just over US$100 to use a vehicle for the driving test. I hope I can just borrow someone's because that is surely a steep cost for a non-luxury one-day rental - especially considering that it's not at an airport location and assuming all insurance options have been declined. That's not the end of it though. Supposedly after more paperwork from the licensing authority, I have to go to the post office of all places (when in doubt, go there for all non-post office related business evidently) to pay another US$16 for the test. After successfully passing the driving test, I need to take the paperwork back to the licensing authority for a temporary license and then again return to the post office to pay another US$100 to validate the temporary license and activate the processing for the permanent license, which should be mailed to me within 8 weeks. I hear that they routinely send the licenses to the wrong addresses at least the first attempt, which might mean I already may accumulate some tickets and moving violations before I even get my license.
8. Breath out, hopefully you're done!
Why must we drive in nonsensical circles if we are going to be held to a rigorous test to maneuver the roadways safely!? It is really just absurd to make us jump through hoops without any semblance of rationality. Drop off the form at the licensing authority and pay the post office so that the licensing authority can continue the paperwork? How must one clearly define bureaucracy? Let's hope I don't have to get my license re-validated any time soon! And breathe again..
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