Learning how to drive… in Abidjan.

I’ve always driven an automatic. All my friends at home in Jersey drove automatics. It was easy. It wasn’t until I arrived to school in Ohio that some drove stick shifts; a few were surprised that I didn’t know how to drive a manual. I shrugged it off. I arrived in France and everyone drove manuals. I still didn’t bother to learn because I didn’t need to drive there. Public transportation was great – that is, whenever transportation workers decided not strike that day/week/month.

I had my first lessons in driving a stick shift in Cote d'Ivoire on Saturday. It went terrible. I met Ebe, a driver, at the office. He had to do several tasks that day, including teaching me how to drive. The security guard was amused that I didn’t know how to drive a stick shift, but assured me that I would be okay: “I don’t even have my license, but it’s easy.” He kindly brought me a pillow to sit on and a cushion for my back so that my feet could reach the pedals of the 4x4.

I started the engine and reached for the clutch. No luck. I couldn’t even get the car out of the driveway. Ebe decided to take over to demonstrate and, at the same time, drive to one of the military bases to deliver a centrifuge for an HIV counseling and testing site. While waiting at a red light, a handmade sign hung on a car window in front of us: Attention: Nouveau chauffeur (Caution: New driver). “There, Ebe, I need that!” I said. He chuckled and agreed. When we arrived at the military site, we met up with Karim, another driver and HIV counselor, who advised us to practice at one of the driving practice areas nearby.

And so we did.

For roughly 20 minutes or so, I drove in circles on an empty soccer field. A few kids would get too close and I’d get nervous; Ebe would yell at them to come back later. I practiced shifting into first, second and third gear. It was too tough to shift any higher when driving in circles on an uneven soccer field. A few times, Ebe would yell: “Feu rouge!” (Red light!), then I’d shift into neutral and break. “Feu vert!” (Green light!), and I’d shift, but kept accidentally shifting into 3rd gear and ultimately stall the car. By the time I semi-mastered shifting, Ebe and I got dizzy and tired. He took over and drove me home. “At our next lesson,” he told me, “you’re going to drive on the open road.”

For that, I’ll need a “Caution: New Driver” sign.