The painstaking chore that all expatriates try to avoid as long as humanly possible… The Italian driver’s license. There is also this myth that you could live and get by in Italy without a car, you can, it just makes it extremely hard when you would like to make a large grocery shop and the weather looks like someone turned the shower faucet on full blast. Another annoyance is when you rely on the train system to get to work and they have decided to go on strike. Or you miss the last train for the night. Another fun surprise is when the bus schedule changes unbeknownst to you. Most people who don’t live here always think “Who cares?” or “What’s the big deal, just take the test!”. People who think this way are accustomed to a written exam including 10 seemingly easy questions such as the following: “What do you do when you come to a red stop sign?” or “If you come to a four-way intersection, who has the right of way?”. If it were this easy it wouldn’t even be up for discussion, would it?

In Italy, you may not convert your American license to an Italian one, even if you have been driving for over half of your life. By law, you need to take a written theory exam, and a practical driving exam alongside 6 hours of driving school with a driving instructor. Piece of cake right?! Except that you have 20 minutes to answer 30 questions. These questions range from 7,166 different possibilities of questions from topics ranging from insurance policies, right of way, large merch truck transportation, speed limits on different state roads, what every single road sign signifies, what the letters on the outside of your tires mean, how to change the oil, identifying the radiator, brake fluid tank or engine coolant level reservoir, how much your insurance claim pays up for in bodily harm due to an accident, and what other kinds of licenses one can obtain referring to what kind of driving you will be doing. You can only miss three questions and it has to be done in Italian, the other language options are French or German.

For years, if I were ever pulled over, I would just say that I was on vacation and hand them my American driver’s license, and there were no issues. The car would always be in my husband’s name or have a tag from a different European country. The more complicated it starts to be the quicker the authorities are to cut you loose, that’s too much paperwork and they have an upcoming meal that they are looking forward to. So I was getting by under the radar for seven years until the 2020 COVID-19 pandemic. Not only was my American license expired by then, but the whole world was shut down, and I could no longer get away with saying that I was a tourist. I knew deep down that the jig was up. I needed to start studying for the Italian driver’s test.

I had saved up enough money for an ayahuasca retreat but was shocked to learn that I was expecting my second son. Have I mentioned that to get your license here it costs roughly €1,000? My retreat fund went straight to my driver’s license journey, it was time. But now I was a ticking time bomb. We couldn’t be stranded out in the country without a valid driver’s license with two kids. Can you imagine taking a cab and having to load, strap, and unload car seats and collapse a stroller? Then haul them around with you all day until you return home? The cab fare alone would be outrageous. And there were only two buses that left my town at 7:00 or 14:00, and the return bus would roll you in at about 20:00. Long day just to run some quick errands.

I buckled down studied the books from cover to cover, and took an online course that helps non-native Italian speakers. Then my life revolved around taking quizzes on my phone. My husband wakes up in the morning in pure silence, zombie walks to the kitchen to prepare his coffee, he normally grunts and glares at anyone who dares try to communicate with him without having his first cup of his beloved moka. He sits at the table, with his coffee cup, and an online game of chess going on his phone or computer. If he doesn’t win a chess game, it’s going to be a bad day for him. If he wins, he’s in a pleasant mood and off to make a second pot of coffee to share with me. I was like him with chess, except with the quizzes. There’s an app they recommended called “guida e vai” and it is a simulation of what the written test could be. The quizzes are on a timer and are the potential questions you could get asked on the real exam. If I didn’t pass the first quiz of the day, my day would be shattered and I would angrily quiz myself all morning. There is such a thing as over studying, I started getting confused especially with all the numbers you have to memorize like speed limits, vehicle weights, engine sizes, number of years certain things apply to. Civil and criminal suits and what category each falls into in a court of law. It is one hell of a test. The kicker is that they use trick questions; someone who is not a native could not easily detect the trick questions.

The online driver’s license course I was mentioning was my first introduction to Zoom. The globe seemed to be flocking to Zoom meetings, for those of my generation or older, it’s the modern-day Skype. I stumbled across “Scuola di Italiano Mangiaparole” To say it was a game changer is an understatement. The classes are in Italian, very informative, very thorough, and they are knowledgeable about all the trick questions they will throw your way on the theory exam. This is exactly what I needed, I needed an insider’s view of all the material that was insanely overwhelming. My teacher Luigi, was a calm charming man who spoke slowly and with conviction. My classmates were from all over, Australian, African, and another fellow Californian. We were all non-Italian, this is whom the school is geared to assist. We all spoke Italian decently, we just needed that extra little dose of attention. There I was, with severe morning sickness, trying to immerse myself in these online classes. Absorbing all the information as if my life depended on it. The school provides you with material that makes it enjoyable and keeps you engaged. We concentrated on theory, but towards the end of the class if we had any questions about the quiz at the end of the lesson we would go over it together. This ironed out any confusion about the trick questions. We were also placed in a group WhatsApp chat with our teacher, this was a very nice feature. We could write to each other about any quiz questions that didn’t make sense, and every once in a while a meme would circulate about how silly driving in Italy is, or a photo someone took that day of someone parking like an asshole. We were able to bond as a group. I found this aspect incredibly comforting because we could lean on each other and we all had a common goal, to dominate this damn test! We were all parents, and more or less had the same amount of stress load, plus the language barrier. Trifecta of disaster is at times what it felt like, a feeling that could make anyone roll over and give up. But we hung in there. We did the work, and put in our effort. The woman from California and I stayed in touch after the course was over, she was also a boy mom and she lived about an hour away from me. Having a support system made a world of difference. Go find your tribe and support system if you want to prevail against this beast. My husband mentioned that my Italian skills had improved immensely after taking this course, that’s coming from a mother tongue Italian speaker. Compliment accepted.

I was signed up for a date to take the written exam, I felt prepared and ready to get this exam over with. I also ended up over-studying, this made me get my wires crossed. I had so much information jam-packed in my head that I needed to get it out and fast! On the day of the exam, you show up with all your documents and forms of identification. They do a small strip search and use a wand to make sure you don’t have any earbuds or are wearing some sort of wire to cheat on the exam. We had to leave all of our belongings outside in the lobby. Then along with 20 other people, I sat in a room. One by one we were called by name and assigned a computer. We were instructed about how the system worked, and that we could flag certain questions and go back to them and answer them last. We could not ask the instructor any questions about the exam, we could only inquire about if the actual testing program was failing. I could sense the room was full-blown nerve-wracking panic mode, which did not help. My heart was properly racing at top speed. The exam finally began, the boy to the right of me looked about 20 years old, he looked like he was about to cry. The man to the left of me was in his mid 50’s and kept blowing air out of his mouth then resealing his lips tightly, almost out of frustration. I took a deep breath and started flowing through the questions. I noticed I had reached the end and not a single soul had raised their hands to indicate that they had finished. This made me panic even more, I went back through the questions that I wasn’t so sure about and then second-guessed myself, I had fallen into a bad acid trip, minus the acid. I was in a downward spiral loop of second-guessing myself. I must have changed my answers back and forth at least four times. I took another deep breath and re-read the questions slowly. People started shifting and some people got up and left the testing area. My consciousness was totally fried. I felt okay about my answers. I raised my hand, concluded my exam, and left the room. Once you finish your exam you wait out in the parking lot for everyone to finish. Then they come out and read out your name and announce whether you have passed or failed. It felt like an eternity. They called out my name and the man looked me in the eyes and said: “I’m so sorry, you failed by one point”. I was so pissed off!!!!!!!!!!!!! My ego took a scissor kick to the face. I was in total disbelief because I felt good about the exam. I did notice that I had several insurance policy questions and violation questions. I could not believe it. Then I listened to see how everyone else did, out of this batch of people only seven of them passed. The two men I sat between also did not pass that day. The younger 18-year-olds were shedding tears of sorrow. I wanted nothing more than to burn down the whole building.

After you fail a written exam you must wait at least a month before you can try again, oh and the price doubles. I bit the bullet and went over all of the areas that I was hesitant about. I mean I dissected the insurance policies and all of the types of licenses and all of the violations. I left no stone unturned! I was pissed and I wanted this more than anything in the world and by this time I had a newborn baby and was using the bus system with two children under four, NOT FUN! One evening my phone rang and it was an unrecognizable number. I normally hit the ignore button and wait for a message, but I answered. It was the Department of Motor Vehicles, they wanted to know if I could come in on Friday to take the written theory exam. If I didn’t take the spot I would have to wait for several months due to how overbooked they were. I accepted, and I panicked again. I told my husband that there was no way I could do this! What in the actual fuck have I done to myself? I was averaging four hours of sleep a night, and nursing every two hours. I might also mention I was full of hormones, but I began to weep. It was Wednesday. Could I actually pull this off?!?!? My husband comforted me and said that I would do great and that the worst thing I could do was panic. I shifted gears, no pun intended, and then used my rage to hyper-focus. I desperately wanted this license. I had 72 hours before the dreaded theory exam. It was GO TIME!

The night before, I shut myself in my husband’s office and looked over the book at my weak areas. I worked on some quizzes, and so far so good, I was only missing one question. I was feeling confident, but of course, that meant nothing. Then my baby started crying and did not stop, he had a high fever, and for some reason, I absolutely could not console him. I stayed awake all night, feeding the fire in our wood-burning stove. Trying to tend to my crying infant. I kept thinking to myself “fuck! I’m going to fail miserably tomorrow, why is this happening right now? Maybe I should cancel or not show up tomorrow, I desperately need sleep”. The light of dawn filled my living room, I felt horrible and like I had just been hit by a Toyota Prius. My eyes were stinging, I was filled with dread. Every cell in my body was telling me to go crawl in my warm bed and shut my eyes, just for a moment. It was a trap. I knew if I went to bed I would not get up. I gathered the children and went outside on the crisp November morning, loaded everyone in the car, and my husband drove to my impending place of doom. When we got to the DMV, I realized that I had forgotten to pick up my papers from the driving school, as they were the ones that had re-registered me for this date. The woman collecting documents told me that I would not be able to take the exam without the forms from the school. How could I be so stupid?! I spaced and forgot about the paperwork!!! I’m supposed to be taking the exam in 15 minutes! I looked at my phone and had used up the battery the night before doing quizzes all night and that morning, I had 10 percent battery! I went outside in a panic to tell my husband the dilemma I was in. I felt defeated, I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience by the level of tired I was. I almost said, “fuck it, take me home”. But I picked up my phone and called the school and told them of my careless mistake of not getting the paperwork, my voice was shaky. The woman on the other end asked me my name and said “Yes we were wondering why you didn’t come by to get your packet of papers, I’ll call our driver instructor and see if he can drop off your paperwork…” I went back in the lobby to inform the woman about what I had just been told. She slowly started calling back the names of people and sending them back to assign them to a computer. The group kept getting smaller and almost everyone was in the computer room. My phone was dead. I was pacing back and forth between the window and the lobby, I was peering out looking for a sign of hope. I see a bright yellow car with an “autoscuola” sticker on the hood screech into the parking lot. I ran outside, it was him, the man from the driving school, I had never met him before. He lowered the window and stuck the paperwork out and he said “You better pass today!”. A surge of adrenaline went through my body, I started shaking and ran back to the building. I was the last one to get admitted to my computer. I started to sweat, I was covered in breast milk, and baby spit and smelled of firewood. I kept questioning myself “Why am I setting myself up for disappointment?”. Once again, I started cruising through the questions with ease, my body began to relax, and I started to breathe and not get overwhelmed. I finished answering the questions and looked over them once more, but I did not spend too much time on them. I raised my hand and concluded my exam. I was the first person out of the room, after being the last one to be seated. I went to the parking lot to nurse my little boy and wait for everyone to trickle out of the testing room. My husband told me that if I passed we would celebrate with sushi for lunch, but if I failed we would go to sushi… he was trying to cheer me up. He also knew it was a food I longed for that was prohibited during my months of pregnancy.

The double doors opened, and the test administrator walked out with everyone’s results. Everyone gathered around. My husband and two kids are also out of the car at this point listening for my name. I heard my name and everything went in slow motion, I didn’t even hear what he said. I looked at my husband and I asked “Did you hear him!?!?!?! Did I pass?!?!?!?!? What did he say?!?!” He chuckled and said, “Yes you passed, you passed!” I was so delirious all my systems were shutting down, so many emotions, so many hormones, and lack of sleep, I just started ugly crying there in the parking lot. My husband was like “Lourd stop crying, people are going to think that you failed” I didn’t care, I was just so happy. There was an Albanian man, in his mid-60s who was in the testing center with me and he had failed. He asked my husband if I had failed. My husband went on to explain that I was just so overwhelmed with relief considering everything and that Italian wasn’t my native language. He went on to explain to us that he became a citizen in Italy, and they told him that he could just exchange his Albanian license for an Italian one. But once they took his license and then told him that he needed to take the exam and start from scratch. He expressed that he felt cheated and that he would have never given up his Albanian license if he knew they were going to make him retake the test in Italian. I did notice him, he was using headphones to listen to the questions. It had also been his second attempt. When they handed me the paperwork required to submit to my driving school, it showed that I had passed with 100%. I felt redeemed.

My father-in-law shared with me his driver’s license experience. He said that when he found out he passed the Italian theory exam, he was more excited about that as an accomplishment than the time he received his PhD. This exam is difficult even for Italians, I know several Italian friends who were in their late 20s or early 30s who were studying and had failed the first time. My husband’s work colleague, an Italian, had succumbed to the pressure of work staff to get his license, and he didn’t succeed on his first try.

I can not stress the difficulty of this exam. Then after the torture that is the theory exam, comes the odyssey of the driving practical exam. You are required to take six hours of driving with an instructor, each lesson is only half an hour and it costs €22, and lastly, you have to wait a month after passing the theory to be eligible to take the driving practical exam. Let’s assume you can drive a stickshift, no problem, the exam administrator will be asking you questions about the car and all the lights that come up on the dash, and he takes you outside and pops the hood and can ask you about anything his heart desires. You must also know what every single letter on the outside of your tire represents and it is considered an oral exam at any point while you’re driving or you are examining the vehicle together. It’s not a matter of driving in a roundabout or parallel parking, but you will also be required to do those maneuvers. If you don’t answer or answer his questions correctly, you fail. I volunteered to go first, he popped the hood and asked me to identify the radiator, and how I would check the oil. I was relieved. I was also asked to parallel park and drive the car in reverse for about a block and do a three-point turn before we were off into regular traffic. I drove a good distance away through two roundabouts on the outskirts of town and headed back towards our starting point. When we pulled back into the parking lot to pluck another victim from the waiting pool, the administrator whisked me towards the trunk, opened it, pulled out a box, and handed me my driver’s license. He said, “Brava California” (I had to bring them my Permesso di Soggiorno, which states my birthplace). He added that I was the only student he had ever had to put it into fifth gear. I hugged my new plastic card that in America would look like a fake ID and thanked him profusely. I wanted to walk away in case he had a change of heart. The rest of the flock waiting on their turn, asked me what I was asked and asked to see my license. I gave them my tips and tricks and told them to be sure to use the blinker with every turn. Christmas had come early for me that year.