Workers Help Files

Being from Africa, Dume wasn't accustomed to the fact that he had to go to a driving school before he would be allowed to drive. Where he came from there was no law regarding driving, or if there was one he wasn't aware of it as nobody abided by the laws. Driving lawfully was the least of his concerns in Somalia. He was more concerned with staying alive than he was about driving laws. But his life was much more relaxed now, and he had time to think about such foreign concepts as attending a driving school and getting a proper drivers license. His cultural inauguration to driving was about to begin, meaning that the first of his classes were only a few days away. He was quite excited, to say the least. His excitement wasn't due only to his attending a driving school, but also due to the fact that he might get to meet some new people. He still didn't have many friends in this country, and any social contact was welcomed by him even if people turned out to be not so friendly or even sometimes downright racist. He knew that would probably happen even before he immigrated, and he was becoming used to it although of course it still was painful and angering to him. He just wrote it off as lack of education and stupidity, which he knew he was right about although it didn't excuse it. Regardless, he wasn't about to have any preconceptions about what a day at a driving school might be like, and he was keeping an open mind about it. At best, he could have the time of his life, and at worst he would at least have the knowledge required to gain a driving license. He knew he would pass, as he'd always been a good student, regardless if he was learning in his native African language or in English. Both languages were equally easy for him. He hopped on his motorbike and headed for the countryside, where the class was to be conducted that day. The air was crisp and clean, and the ride itself had already made the day worthwhile. The landscape in this part of the country was so different than what he was used to, and to him it was magnificent. Although he missed sometimes the scorching heat of his homeland, the cool air here was a welcome change. He parked his motorcycle and headed into the classroom.