Moving to America – Transportation

It is relatively easy to select a car – in fact it seems (and is) too good to be true! I soon learn that I must have insurance to drive out the car, a driver’s license to get insurance, a social security number to get a license and so on… This is just the beginning. I discover, a day at a time, that I don’t qualify for car-finance without credit history. I crack that, but find that finance can only be for three years because that is my visa validity (a green card application is planned, but not yet submitted). My American brother saves the day, he steps in and co-signs the loan. Lesson: a permanent transfer only works if you have a brother with a twenty year credit history in the US! I purchase auto insurance at a high premium (twenty five years of accident-free driving means nothing as it was not in the US) only to learn I can get a better deal. So, I cancel the insurance within a month and to my (unpleasant) surprise receive a smaller refund then expected - premium is not pro-rated but short-rated, highest in the first month and diminishing towards the last! For a wild moment I consider litigation as an appropriate solution in this country, where everyone sues everyone about everything …

While I am proud (part) owner of a legitimate car, I must still acquire a registration plate. The proverbially smiling car salesman has long ceased smiling at me, but I blithely drive off in my shiny car. A few weeks later, I realize the temporary plate expires soon and he speaks reassuring words. A day before expiry, I remind him again. An hour later his boss calls (the salesman can no longer speak with me) to say I can’t get registration plates as I have not paid property tax last year! I remind him that I did not live in this country last year, let alone have property to pay tax on, and we carry on... My patience, steadily wearing thin, snaps completely at some point and I hear myself yelling, ‘so why are you telling me today when the temporary plate expires tomorrow’ and ‘No, I can’t go to bloody City Hall on Monday (or for that matter Tuesday or Wednesday)’ and ‘Take that salesman off my case right now once!’ and so on, till I break down. More than outrage over the registration plate, I am shocked at the change in myself, this person that I hardly recognize… Eventually, my employer steps in and finds a solution.