The day finally came. As usual, preparations were made before riding the van to the institute. After saying goodbye to grandma, I walked to the bus stop situated at the entrance of our estate. Then the van came, boarded the van, took a bumpy ride, and VOILA! Arrived at the institute, done some registrations, and the next thing I knew, I was sitting in a car.
The first driving tutor, Mr Y, was good. (Due to privacy, the tutor's name couldn't be provided.) He was a little strict though, but he was good. Taught me everything slowly and patiently. The practice lasted 2 hours, from 11 AM to 1PM, when he needed to have his lunch. I was to resume my practice from 2PM to 3PM with another tutor, Mr M. He was an Indian. Mr Y said Mr M would be a lot stricter than him. Boy, that sure sent a chill down my spine!
I waited until 2.15PM, and Mr M was nowhere in sight. Then came another Chinese tutor, whose name was beyond my knowledge. He was young, and a bit rotund, I would say. We got in a car, and THE MOST EXCRUCIATING 1 HOUR OF MY LIFE BEGAN. A tutor's job is to teach his students, right? Well, this unknown rotund tutor was just the opposite, at first though. (While I was driving, he didn't even pay attention to it, but was talking on the phone!) He didn't say anything, instead, "Show me what Mr Y had taught you." was his first reply to my puzzling look. Then, ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE.
I made a lot of mistakes, like releasing the clutch too early, stepped too much on the gas, turned wrongly, etc. Well, what do you expect from a person who has just driven a car just for 2 hours in his entire life? Do you expect him to excel in everything? That was what the tutor from hell must had been thinking, as he keep babbling about how to do this and that, and keep questioning about why this and that. What was my reaction? I just nod my head. After the most excruciating, "mentally-challenging" (his questionings), muscles-aching (turning of steering), osteo-torturing (both steering turning and pedal stepping), body-sweating (hot weather), eardrums-piercing (his non-stop "advises"), spine-breaking (sitting in a cramped car) 1 hour in my life, finally it's time I end my practice. (Okay, I was just exaggerating.)
We walked back to the hall, and he was filling in my form when Mr Y happened to walk by. The rotund tutor kept joking on my mistakes. "He said that my 1-hour practice was a lot more difficult than your 2-hours practice. Hahaha..." he joke to Mr Y. Mr Y just smiled. "He knows how to control the speed of the car, he just couldn't control it steadily." As far as I know, that was his first and only praise for me. He was not that bad, he's just strict. That was what I kept telling myself when I got home. I just couldn't forget his non-stop "advises".
And THAT made me frown, and sad too.
