Collision Course
For an open abdominal wound, such as protrusion of the small intestine tube, we should:
a) Put it back.
b) No treatment.
c) Not put it back, but cover it with a bowl or jar, and bind the bowl or jar with a cloth belt.*
Do you think this question comes from a paramedic training examination? An army first-aid manual? Or a driving test?
The answer is a driving test and the question is a harbinger of what's to come. In fact, the only adventure that can rival taking to China's often treacherous roads is actually getting permission to drive on them.
China is one of just five countries that doesn't recognize international driving permits (the others are Bermuda, Burundi, Iraq and Nigeria, according to the American Automobile Association). So expatriates who want to get behind the wheel in China have to get a local license.
Usually the practical element -- actually driving a car accompanied by an examiner -- is far scarier to do anywhere than a written exam. But foreigners holding a license from another country no longer have to take a road test in China. They do, however, face a headache-inducing, 100-question, computerized exam, drawn from about 750 possible questions, that covers everything from the niceties of repairing intestinal protrusions to the penalty for transporting nuclear materials. Score less than 90 and it's back to square one.
Changing Gears
Not long ago, any expat in China holding a license from overseas just had to pass a driving test consisting of about 100 meters of straight-line motoring. When Chinese-American lawyer Titi Liu turned up to take the road test five years ago, she panicked when told she couldn't use her own vehicle. Instead, she had to drive the tester's manual transmission car, even though she didn't know how to shift gears. After a rushed lesson over the telephone from her bemused husband, she got in the car, filled with three other nervous exam candidates, as well as the examiner, and puttered down the course without ever leaving first gear. She was rewarded with a shiny new license.
Since then, it's gotten harder for foreigners and locals alike to get a license as the country's authorities aim to limit the number of inexperienced, accident-prone drivers on the country's thoroughfares. No wonder. Last year, there were 450,254 road accidents, killing 98,738 people and injuring 469,911, according to the Ministry of Public Security -- and that's the first time the nationwide death toll has fallen below 100,000 since 2001. That makes China, a nation still coming to grips with the automobile, responsible for 15% of global road traffic deaths. Car crashes themselves are the ninth largest cause of human deaths on the planet, according to the World Health Organization.
All of which left me sitting in the large, computer terminal-filled testing room on the second floor of the Beijing Traffic and Vehicle Department headquarters, feeling a little disorientated. The reason: Until I read through the pretesting information, I hadn't realized that I needed a 90 to pass. I knew I was doomed after 20 questions, having guessed on at least five. I sped through the rest, hit the send button, and a frowning face overflowing with tears immediately popped onto my screen. I had scored 83. I was determined that before I tried again in two weeks' time, the soonest I was allowed to retake the exam, I would hit the books.
Of course, this being, well, China, there are ways to get around the computerized exam. Pay about $100 and you can take a handwritten test at Fesco, the government-licensed foreign employment agency. Most people who take the test in this way seem, miraculously, to score a 91. It isn't a bad deal when you consider the total tab of the equivalent of about $34 for getting a license the usual way: 10 yuan to take a "physical," which in my case was just a vision check, half-heartedly administered at a local hospital by a friendly, elderly doctor; 60 yuan to translate your license into Chinese; 150 yuan for the English-language study guide; five yuan to make a reservation to sit the test; and 50 yuan each time you take the test. If only I'd known about the Fesco option before choosing to sit the computerized exam.
Chinese nationals take the same computerized exam, but because getting a driver's license has become a rite of passage in China, they spend months studying for it and don't find it so confronting. Local people, and foreigners who don't have a license at home, have to take a road test and a parallel parking test, too; a new, tougher road test was introduced in Beijing in January 2005 and is spreading around the country.
The tougher tests appear to be having the desired effect. The Ministry of Public Security says that the first-time passing rate on tests was 80% in 2004 but fell to 50% in 2005. Meantime, the death toll caused by drivers with under one year of driving experience declined by 19.7% over the same period.
Street Scenes
Still, many expatriates and Chinese returning from abroad question the wisdom of driving in China at all. Some companies make employees and their spouses sign waivers promising not to drive in China before posting them here. Even a minor accident can lead to a confusing, protracted street scene, waiting for the police to arrive while a crowd gathers and screams at the driver. "Driving is very stressful and also very dangerous," says Noriko Parrett, a Japanese national who has been driving in Beijing for two years. "I have driven all over the world. Every place is different but this is by far the craziest."
And yet, if you are living here, you are on the road one way or another anyway, and there is a decent chance your driver got his license just last week. So I forced myself to study that cursed, voluminous book and entered my retest fairly confident. I took my time, maintained my cool, reread my answers, changed a few and hit "send." Almost immediately, a flashing smiley-face danced across my screen. I had scored a 90. I floated downstairs, almost hugging another successful test taker.
But then I realized: Having tried to memorize many of the answers to 750 questions -- including 161 road signs, some marked only by Chinese characters -- and negotiated the test, all I'd done is the easy bit. Now I actually have to drive on China's roads.
*The answer to the abdominal wound question, by the way, is C. Happy driving.
行路难 考驾照更难
如果遇到腹部外伤，比如小肠流到外面，应该如何处理：
a)把它放回腹腔
b)不用处理
c)不要放回去，用杯子或碗盖住，然后用布带扎起来*
你觉得上面这个题目会在哪里见到？是护理员考试？军队急救手册？还是驾驶证考试？
猜对了吗？是驾照考试。不过，这么刁钻的题目还只是个开头。实际上，在中国，唯一能和在中国险象环生的道路上开车相提并论的历险就是──得到一本允许上路的驾照。
据美国汽车业协会(American Automobile Association)说，中国是世界上仅有的5个不承认国际驾照的国家之一（其他4个国家分别是百慕大、布隆迪、伊拉克和尼日利亚）。因此，外国人如果想在中国开车，只能再申请一本中国的驾照。
一般来说，在中国考驾照，路考的环节比文字考试要难得多。不过已有国外驾照的外国人不需要参加路考。他们要应付的是在电脑上进行的让人头痛的交规考试，内容是从有750道题的题库里抽出来的100道题。题目包罗万象，从如何救治肠子外流这样的细节问题到运送核材料会受什么处罚等等。90分算通过，否则就得重考。
就在不久前，在华外国人如已持有国外驾照只须参加路考就可以领到新照，考试内容包括100米加、减档等。美籍华人律师Titi Liu 5年前参加路考时吓了一跳，她被告知不能开自己的车考试。后来她只能用考场提供的手动变速的车，而她根本不知道怎么开手动档的车。
于是她先打电话向丈夫紧急求教，随后就钻进了车，车里还坐著另外三位惴惴不安的考生，当然还有考官。她稀里糊涂地就上了路，档位就一直挂在一档。最后她拿到了一本亮闪闪的新驾照。
但是后来，外国人和中国人自己申请驾照的难度越来越大了，因为政府不希望大街上有太多容易闯祸的新手。这不奇怪。根据公安部门公布的数据，去年，中国共发生450,254起道路交通事故，造成98,738人死亡、469,911人受伤。这是2001年以来全国交通事故死亡人数首次降到100,000人以下。
这个数字占全球道路交通死亡总人数的15%。据世界卫生组织(WHO)的统计，车祸是地球上导致人类死亡的第九大杀手。
由于上述这些原因，我不得不坐进北京市交管局的一间排满了电脑的宽敞考场。我有点心烦意乱，原因是在我读完考试需知之前，我不知道要考90分以上才能通过。
在做到第20题的时候我知道我完了：至少有5道题我是瞎懵的。接下来我加快了答题速度，一路狂点，最后按了“提交”键。随后，屏幕上跳出一个愁眉苦脸、眼泪花花的小人儿：我只得了83分！我当时就下定决心，两周后重考（这是规定允许的最早的重考时间），之前我一定要好好用功准备。
当然，这是在中国，在这里你可以有其他办法躲开机考。比如可以交100美元在北京外企服务集团(Fesco)参加书面考试。在这里参加考试的人多数最后的成绩好像都是91分。真是奇妙。如果你知道正常的考试我们也要花34美元，而且是以下这样的花法，你就会觉得那100美元也不算冤枉。34美元包括这些项目：体检费（人民币）10元（管得并不严，对我来说，只需要在一家当地医院接受一位和善的老医生做的视力检查。）；驾照翻译费60元（帮你把驾照译成中文）；150元英文版的学习指南；5元考试预约费；考试费每次50元。唉，如果我选择机考前知道还可以去Fesco就好了。
中国人要参加的机考跟我们一样，不过，驾照在中国已经快变成人人必备的东西了，人们会花费数月时间准备，所以不会觉得太难。
中国人和来中国前没有驾照的外国人都必须参加一次路考和一次桩考；2005年1月开始，北京推出了一种新的难度更大的路考方式，目前正在向全国推广。
高难度的考试似乎收到了预期的效果。公安部说，2004年一次考试通过率是80%，到2005年就降到了50%。而同一时期由驾龄不足一年的新手引发的事故死亡人数下降了19.7%。
不过，许多在中国生活的外国人和从海外回来的中国人对在中国开车仍非常担心。许多公司在派遣雇员来中国前都会让他们及他们的配偶签署承诺不在中国驾车的协议。在中国，即使是很小的交通事故都会在路上引起混乱，双方要等著警察来处理，许多过路人会驻足观看，对驾车人大声发问。
在北京已有两年驾车经验的日本人Noriko Parrett说，驾车是件非常紧张、非常危险的事。他曾在世界各地开过车。每个地方开车的感觉都不一样，但这里是他遇到的最疯狂的地方。
而且，如果你是在这里生活，你总是要到路上，而且很有可能你遇到的司机上周才拿到驾照。所以，我强迫自己苦学那本该死的厚厚的交规手册，然后满怀信心地参加了第二次考试。
我很从容地答题、尽量保持冷静，检查答案、修改了几个地方，然后按了“提交”键。像上次一样屏幕上立刻弹出一个小人儿的脸来，不过这次是一个微笑著眨著眼睛的脸。哈，我得了90分！我冲下楼，差一点要拥抱另一位也通过考试的家伙。
但随后我意识到，尽管我已经努力记住了750道题答案中的很大一部分，并且通过了交规考试，但这一切还只是整个历险中最容易的一小部分。现在，我将不得不真刀真枪地在中国的土地上开车了。
*差点忘了：开始那道选择题的答案是C。祝你驾车愉快！
