Getting a Driving Licence in Germany – I Put My Trust in... Heaven

There is something a little funny about the question I have been asked again and again during all the years I have lived in Germany:

“What was the hardest thing when you moved to Germany?”

Learning German?

Finding a job?

The winter weather?

No.

If I had to choose the one thing that frightened me most and still stays in my memory, it would definitely be... getting a driving licence.

---

I have lived in Germany for more than ten years.

The place where I live is a small village. There are buses, but not many. Sometimes, missing just one bus means waiting a very long time for the next one.

I quickly understood that if I really wanted to build a life here, there were two things I would almost certainly need.

First: learn German.

Second: get a driving licence.

It sounds perfectly sensible, doesn’t it?

But life does not always follow sensible plans.

At that time, Germany was receiving a large number of new immigrants, and German classes were always full. Even if you wanted to learn, you could not simply join a course.

I had to wait more than a year for a place.

So I thought:

“Maybe I’ll just get my driving licence first.”

Later, that decision made me wonder many times:

Where did all that confidence come from?

---

My knowledge of traffic rules from Vietnam was very simple.

Drive on the right.

Go on green.

Get ready on yellow.

Stop on red.

With that impressive amount of knowledge, I had somehow survived nearly eight years in Hanoi traffic.

So I felt fairly confident.

Until the day I walked into a German driving theory class.

...

My head felt as though it might explode.

Not only because I barely understood German.

But also because I could not believe it:

How could there possibly be so many traffic rules?

Road signs.

Regulations.

Right of way.

Distances.

Junctions.

And then there was rechts vor links — “right before left.”

I did not even properly understand what the phrase meant.

Yet I was already expected to know when and how to apply it.

And that was not all.

At the time, the theory question bank contained more than 1,200 questions.

Things are much easier now. There are apps, English and Vietnamese translations, and clear visual explanations.

But when I was studying ...

I had none of that.

I had to translate every question.

Then translate every answer.

Only after that could I begin to learn.

For someone who could barely say “Hallo” and “Danke” in German, studying driving theory in German felt a little like asking a two-year-old to sit a primary school graduation exam.

---

Three days before the test ...

I looked at the book.

Then at the clock.

Then back at the book.

After all those days of struggling, I understood perhaps ... ten questions.

Ten.

Out of more than twelve hundred.

So I decided:

It was time for a new strategy.

I stopped translating.

I stopped trying to understand everything.

I simply looked at the question.

Then looked straight at the answer.

And memorised ... the shape of the words.

Something like this:

Ah, for this question I tick the first box.

For that one, two boxes.

For the next one, the final box.

In three days, I made it through roughly half the book.

About six hundred questions.

The other six hundred ...

I had not even seen.

---

Then came the day of the exam.

I no longer had much faith in myself.

So I decided ...

to put my faith in heaven.

I prayed to Buddha.

And, just to be safe, I prayed to God as well.

Whoever could hear me was welcome to help.

And through some mysterious force that I still cannot explain ...

I passed the German theory test on my first attempt.

Even now, when I think about it, I feel that heaven was very kind to me that day.

---

My parents-in-law were astonished.

Someone who still did not really understand rechts vor links ...

had passed a German theory test.

My husband found it even harder to believe.

He had needed two attempts himself.

So he probably wondered ...

whether the computer had made a mistake that day.

---

Of course:

Please do not study the way I did.

Today, there are many good driving theory apps in different languages.

Actually understanding the theory is always better than memorising answers.

Because once you move on to practical driving ...

luck is almost useless.

---

The German practical test taught me exactly what it means when something cannot be learned by memorising a few favourite routes.

You drive the driving school’s car.

Your instructor sits beside you.

The examiner sits in the back.

He tells you where to go.

And you drive.

Each examiner may choose a different route.

Traffic is different every day.

There is no way to memorise one road and simply repeat it during the test.

There is only one way:

Really understand the rules.

And really know how to control the car.

---

The first time ...

I drove for about ten minutes.

Then I made a mistake.

Failed.

I was sad.

The second time:

failed again.

Even sadder.

By the third attempt, I was close to despair.

On the fourth attempt, I thought:

“But I drove well this time, didn’t I?”

Apparently not.

In Germany ...

a small mistake is still a mistake.

Germans can be flexible about many things.

But when road safety is involved ...

they are very strict.

And honestly ...

later, I came to understand that they were right.

---

By the fifth attempt ...

I had stopped putting quite so much pressure on myself.

I thought:

If it does not work today ...

I will try again next time.

And if necessary, again after that.

I will keep going until I pass.

And then ...

at last, I held my driving licence in my hand.

---

After that exam, I felt a little like a superhero.

If I could even pass a German driving test ...

what could I possibly not learn after that?

There is one small secret, though.

My driving licence ...

cost more than the first car I bought.

It still hurts a little whenever I think about it.

---

Many years later, after driving had become part of my everyday life, I realised something.

Every mistake that had caused me to fail stayed in my memory for a very long time.

Because I had been corrected, because I had failed, and because I had been forced to practise again, I almost never repeated those mistakes once I was driving alone.

Some lessons are very expensive.

But if they keep us safer over thousands of kilometres ...

perhaps they are still worth the price.