In the States, a driver’s license serves as your ID for everything. Here, that is not the case. Everyone has another type of ID called a cédula. Since residency is required to obtain a cédula, I use my passport as a form of ID. I don’t like carrying it on my person at all times, so I’m glad to have a local form of ID now.
Fortunately, the process was pretty easy, albeit time consuming. I was able to use my Georgia DL as proof that I know how to drive so I didn’t have to take any kinds of tests. I did, however, have to get the required medical exam ($20). I’m glad that I had my Red Cross blood donor card with me so that I didn’t have to pay the additional $10 fee to prove my blood type.
Once I found the driver’s license place (Thank goodness I have a GPS in the land of no street names!), I paid $1.40 for a woman to make copies of my passport and GA DL. I then walked through a maze of buildings and offices following the signs to get my license. A man at the door checked to make sure that I had all of the proper documents and told me and eight other people to sit in a row of chairs inside the very pink building. While waiting, I took a picture of a poorly translated sign which made me laugh.
After waiting for what seemed like an eternity, five people were sent upstairs and the rest of us moved down a few chairs. After waiting even more time with no direction, the rest of us got to go upstairs to have our copies officially given a stamp of approval and then sent back downstairs to wait in line again.
The lady that was supposed to help all of us wasn’t at her desk so we waited and waited. While sitting there, I saw that everyone had a yellow receipt in hand, everyone but me and another guy. I asked a fellow American what that was for and he said that you have to go to a bank to pay the $8 for the license, and then they’ll give you a receipt to give to the lady. I asked if I should get up and go to the bank while we wait and he suggested that I stay and wait for the lady to tell me that. Finally, she started seeing each one of us and the process was fairly quick. I saw another poor translation that made me laugh.
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| It makes sense in Spanish, but not so much in English. |
When it was my turn, I went to the lady’s cubicle and gave her my papers. She gave me a white slip of paper to take to the bank so I walked about two blocks to pay and get my yellow receipt. I was the last person that the teller saw before he went on his lunch break. Phew! The poor guy behind me had to wait an extra 45 minutes until the teller returned from lunch.
I walked the two blocks back to the office and handed her my receipt. She asked me for an electronic signature, a digital fingerprint, and then took my picture. Voila, a Costa Rican driver’s license!
