I think I haven’t explained before, for those of my readers who don’t know, all of the things that go into getting a Swedish driver’s license. First and most important, unless you are from another EU country or Japan, it doesn’t matter how long you might have been a licensed driver in another country. When you become a resident of Sweden, you have one year to drive on your old license, and if you want to continue driving after that you must get a Swedish license, something that is much, much easier–and cheaper–said than done.

There are three hoops to jump through in order to get a Swedish driver’s license. The first is the theory test, which I took last month. The next is what’s called the halkbana, or “skid course,” and the last is the driving test.

Yesterday Olof, the two younger kids, and I drove up to Piteå, a town about an hour north of here, so that I could drive the halkbana. I had been assured by most people I know that it’s a fun experience and that I should just relax and enjoy it. Ha! I scoff in their general direction.

The class was three-and-a-half hours long and started off with a half-hour or so of theory taught by an instructor who had a bit of a hard time keeping his chauvinism in check (at one point he asked us what kind of car we’d buy if we won the lottery; when I said a Volkswagen, he laughed and said “Okay, that’s a good answer, but most girls just say, ‘oh, I don’t know … something red that’s easy to park.’ I swear, it was only the thought of being out $250 if I didn’t pass the course that kept me from rolling my eyes.). He showed us diagrams of the two courses we would be driving and gave a quick explanation of what we’d be asked to do, then we went out to get started.

We were split up into two groups of three cars each, and there were two people–both students–in each car. Two instructors, one for each group, sat in a watch tower at one end between the two courses and talked to the cars through one-way radios. Each instructor led one group of three, and each of the three cars in a group could hear everything the instructor said to the rest of the group. I don’t know who thought up this arrangement, but let me just say that it was poor, poor planning. In the first place, we weren’t given clear or thorough instructions in the theory classroom, and none of us seemed to know for sure what we were to be doing. Second, when the instructor was talking, it was very difficult sometimes to know which driver he was talking to. Third, you’ll remember that I said that the radios in the cars were one-way radios, meaning that we couldn’t ask anyone other than our equally clueless car-mate for clarification or any other sort of help. Fourth, the instructor apparently subscribed to the Sarcasm Theory of Teaching and barked orders at us in a voice that was alternately irritated and bored. He also seemed to think that it served some useful purpose to make comments like, “Come on, girls … you don’t need to stop for a coffee break after every lap,” when my partner and I had paused to try to figure out just what exactly we were supposed to be doing. Let me tell you, it was all kinds of fun.

The upshot, though, is that I’m done with it, and the only hoop remaining is the driving test, which I’m scheduled to take tomorrow morning. I don’t feel particularly optimistic about it (especially after watching a show tonight on TV called Alla Kan Inte Ta Körkort*), but I’m trying not to let nerves and negativity overtake me. I just hope I remember to make sure I have enough windshield-wiper fluid before I take off in the test car — I hear that’s an essential part of the safety check and I’d sure hate to be caught unawares if a windshield emergency struck.

*Not Everyone Can Get a Driver’s License