(The following story in it's entirety...is completely true...even though it sounds far-fetched)
A little known fact about me is that I never learned how to drive a car. It used to be embarrassing. Then I evolved into a bike-fanatic and it was a point of pride. Then I turned into a moto-champ, and it never came up. I was meant to drive a moto in Phnom Penh. My moto and I together are a beautiful thing and I have evolved into a true Cambodian in my aggressiveness.
But alas. For insurance purposes, I was told I needed to have a drivers licence to drive my moto. I needed to get a car licence, because foreigners can't get a moto licence. If I hit someone on my moto, I would not be covered and in Cambodia, the wealthiest person is always at fault in an accident and I would be considered the most wealthy because I'm American. So I was told to take drivers classes in Phnom Phen and get a car licence in order to continue driving my moto. Obviously, this was the most logical approach to this dilemma.
Driving in Phnom Penh is insane. The only thing more insane was my driving instructor, a 30-year-old, bitter, rude, inconsiderate and chronically tardy male who went by the name "La." I drove La crazy. He got under my skin. I told myself he must have a terrible family life. I don't know what he told himself. My lessons were four weeks long, half-an-hour. We mostly parallel parked which got old. He would bark at me. I would use complicated English words. Twice during parking days, he got out of the car and sit on the curb, either texting or barking at me. I tried to use an even more complex vocabulary. It was an abusive teacher-student relationship.
La also had a gift for expressing Cambodia driving rules and his own pedology on education.
La: "When you take the test here, you must read the signs."
Me: "Do I have to read the signs when I'm driving in Phnom Penh?"
La: "No you don't have to read the signs in Phnom Penh, but in the test you have to read the signs."
Grace: "So when I come to a four-way intersection, which car goes first?"
La: "Whichever car is the richest, or the most important. But if the car is further along, it should go first."
Grace: "So it doesn't matter who got there first?"
La: "No."
La: "Which car will you drive after this?"
Grace: "I won't drive a car. I will still drive moto."
La: "But you are already driving moto."
Grace: "I know."
La: "So why are you driving then?"
Grace: "We have insurance liability problems and so because I don't have a licence I'm not covered in the event of a moto accident."
La: "But you are already driving moto."
La: "Stop pushing the break when there's a car! Why are you always breaking? You don't need to slow down!"
Grace: "Oh that's right! I'm a car! I'm at the top of the pecking order!"
La: "I don't know what that means."
Grace: "Don't hit me! Please don't hit me!"
La: "Don't worry I'm not going to hit you."
Grace: "I was speaking to that car over there."
La: "And I was replying for that car."
La: "I think I'm older then you."
Grace: "How old are you?"
La: "30."
Grace: "You are older, I'm 22."
La: "Oh you are so very young. When will you get married?"
Grace: "I think maybe in five years."
La: "But then you will be so old!"
Grace: "Well it's different in my country."
Me: "In my country, I ride a bike because my friends and I believe it's better for the environment."
La: "That's too strange."
La: "You never remember anything. Maybe I need to hit you to make you remember."
Me: "In my country, it's unacceptable for teachers to hit students."
La: "But this is Cambodia."
Me: "In my country, it would be consider assault and you could be prosecuted for it."
La: "Oh my god, this is not your country."
La: "I tell you to do something and all you say is okay but you never change!"
Me: "Okay."
La: "You say okay and do you nothing!"
Me: "Look, I'm not going to argue."
La: "Oh my god, you are terrible."
Me: "Okay."
I have a terrible feeling I'm being way to cocky, but I'm totally going to nail the road test. I've already practiced on the actual course. I can do switchbacks, I can do a three-point turn, I can freaking parallel park, and I'm excellent at stopping at faux train tracks... (and excuse me, there aren't functional trains in anybody anymore either). There are no real rules in Cambodian driving. So actually driving on the roads doesn't bother me because I really and truly can't honestly screw up. I need to avoid hitting things/people, but aside from that. Welcome to Cambodia.
