Only after a few months of arriving in Japan, I started to make enquiries about how to get my Japanese driving licence. I didn’t know Hirokoji Dori from Nishiki Dori, but I thought it would be a good thing to have. To my delight, I discovered that for Brits and a few other nationalities, getting a Japanese driving licence only involves some basic paperwork and an eye test. No written or driving test. I was surprised to discover that Americans are not on that list, but I think it has something to do with their road laws being divided by state. Before long, my wallet had one more card slot filled. The Japanese government and the governments of these select-few countries have some type of agreement, so for us, getting a licence here is dead easy and vice versa for Japanese nationals.
There are some people who don’t see driving as a necessity. Nagoya’s public transportation system is pretty impressive, and if you live and work centrally, then getting a car really doesn’t make sense to most, especially if you’re not planning to stay here for long. Besides, you already pay a premium for rent in the city and parking costs an arm and a leg. With that in mind, the subway, a bicycle, or the overabundance of taxis will more than suffice. Public transportation is dirt cheap compared to what I used to pay in London. Trains are never late, except when people are trying to clock up those Japanese suicide figures by jumping on the tracks, which has become a popular pastime.
The extra expenses that come with running a car are certainly costly deterrents and I have to admit insurance, petrol, servicing, vehicle inspection and repairs do add up, but I’m all for driving, especially because I live just outside of the city. During those scorching summer months or bitterly cold winters nothing gives me greater pleasure than getting into my car. I even have a remote starter so my air conditioning is perfect, before I get in. If I go out in town, I can’t relax if I have to keep checking my watch to ensure that I catch the last train. I’m no spring chicken, so staying out all night to catch the first train home is not an option. Come 2 a.m., I need to get home. By that time, the trains have stopped and a long taxi ride is just too expensive. Some say, “But you can never have a drink when you go out!” It’s an opportunity cost I suppose, but a sacrifice I’m willing to make.
I suppose the main reason I drive is due to the many negative experiences I’ve had while using public transportation. I’ve been called a slave and people have even run to the opposite end of the carriage, while saying that I was scary. Why? I was just sitting there while my daughter had a nap in my lap. I’ve been on packed trains in my suit and tie, looking as smart as I could possibly look, people, standing squashed together, while I had empty seats on either side of me. A Japanese friend once told me that maybe I had a scowl on my face each time. It had to be my fault somehow. It’s easy for some people to say, “Just ignore it. You know how people are in Japan.” I can’t ignore it. I’m still a human with feelings. Besides the racism/prejudice/ignorance, whatever you want to call it, I was tired of being sneezed and coughed on. I was tired of the dodgy smells, especially on a packed train with drunken “salarymen”.
There is a stereotype in the west that Asian people can’t drive. Is it true? The statistics suggest that Asia and the Pacific account for about 44% of all road traffic fatalities in the world, but Japan is certainly not contributing much to these figures overall. Researchers suggest that you have a greater chance of being killed on the road in Africa and the Middle East, even in the US. There are about 770,000 traffic accidents in Japan a year, and about 5,100 fatalities from these accidents. A colleague of mine pointed out that you can’t take these figures as gospel, because unless you die within 24 hours of the accident, your death is not recorded as a road traffic fatality.
The most common traffic violations in Japan are speeding (2.5 million a year), using a mobile phone while driving (1.3 million a year), failure to stop (1.2 million a year), running red lights (700,000 a year), and improper parking or stopping (500,000 a year). Drunken driving (40,000 a year) has sharply decreased, probably due to the fine which has been increased to one million yen. In recent years, Aichi has become the leader for road traffic violations. Congratulations, Aichi! Pat yourselves on the back. I do 99% of my driving in Aichi, so this was no surprise to me. In Aichi, there are about 60,000 road traffic accidents, a year, with just fewer than 300 fatalities resulting from these accidents.
The things I see on the roads are truly unbelievable, especially considering the strict standards for getting a licence here. You would think some Japanese got their licences the “Jamaican way” – bribe the local official. Some people come out of side roads and only look left, forgetting the obvious, that drivers are coming up on their right. Some drivers almost never indicate when changing lanes, so I’m constantly getting cut up. Some manoeuvre then look in their mirrors. I always thought it was mirror, signal, and then manoeuvre. Running red lights? Forget about it! I’m guilty of going through on the amber a few times, but sometimes when I do, I will see two, three cars going through on the red behind me.
I’ve seen people holding new-born babies on their laps and driving. I once saw a father holding his baby out of the window while the mother drove. I can only imagine that in his world, this was entertainment for the baby. I was stopped at some lights once, and a toddler was practically falling out of the car in front of me. I got out to alert the parents and also suggested that he should wear a seatbelt. They were bowing and apologising, where I thought a thank you would have been more appropriate. In my eyes this is not being very responsible, considering most people now know better about road safety. But who am I to judge? I’ve seen whole families getting around perfectly fine on just scooters in South-East Asia.
It seems like the number one priority for the police is to stop cyclists and verify that the bicycle they are riding isn’t stolen property. Bicycle theft is a problem in Japan, but it’s hardly something to make a priority. You can drive out of Sakae on a Saturday night, on any of the major roads, and not see a police in sight. In this year alone, at the end of May, 716 people were arrested for drunken driving in Aichi. Last year I witnessed a car swaying all over the road one Saturday night in Shin Sakae. Suddenly, the driver stopped, opened his door and vomited. What are the chances that he was drunk? Where were the police? I’ve heard that the police in Japan usually make an effort to catch traffic violators on the “zero days”. What are the zero days you may ask? The zero days are the 10th, 20th, and 30th. If I’m aware of this, then Japanese people definitely know about it as well.
In addition to these frustrations, I find drivers in Aichi to be quite selfish. When a driver wants to turn right on a road that has only one lane of traffic going in either direction, cars start backing up, but drivers would prefer death than to allow another car to turn. Only truck drivers seem to understand the concept of maintaining the flow of traffic. People are often surprised when I let them turn, and I make a point of always letting truck drivers go. Constantly looking out for cyclists also adds to the stress of driving in Japan. Cyclists believe that because they have the right-of-way, they can go along with their tunnel vision, never slowing down or looking out for vehicles. An acquaintance of mine was killed that way on the streets of Nagoya, leaving two young sons behind. Sad. On a lighter note, I do find it quite amusing when I am spotted by the occupants of neighbouring cars. Their eyes bulge open as their jaw drops down, as if to say, “Look! There’s a foreigner driving! Are they allowed to drive in Japan? I wonder if he has a Japanese licence”.
Driving in Aichi can be stressful at times, but when it’s all said and done, I wouldn’t have it any other way. I can sing along to my music without breaking a sweat, and I rarely have to confront the foul smells on the germ-ridden subway. My car is my cocoon.
See you on the roads!
