I knew my usual mode of transit would have to change when I moved from the Netherlands to the United States. Back home, I rode bikes, trams, and trains. Where I live now in rural Connecticut, everything is a car ride away.
Public transportation is nonexistent.
So I finally had to learn how to drive. A puzzled look from the Department of Motor Vehicles clerk who checked my papers. I nodded and said that because the license would be my only official American picture ID, everything had to be accurate. Especially my name. After some listless pounding on the keyboard, the clerk turned back to me with a sullen expression.