Getting Closer

Today I went to get Glenn’s exit/entrance visa so we can travel to Egypt in February. Although we had been to the passport office before, today brought new sights and experiences. Checking my list included;

ü  Glenn’s passport

ü  Glenn’s iqama

ü  photos of Glenn

ü  payment of SR 200

ü  my iquama

ü  patience

ü  more patience

Omar picked me up at 8:00 and off we went with the other 3.5 million people in Jeddah. The traffic was heavier than the 401 in Vancouver at rush hour, with no overflow lane and some traffic lights not working. At one point in the traffic jam, an ambulance was trying to negotiate through the maze of vehicles. The siren was wailing but no one was pulling over; few were even slowing down. I asked Omar if drivers were not required to pull to the right and stop. He responded with, “Crazy drivers, they no stop. Sometimes the person dead, it takes too long.” I couldn’t help but think if that was a driver’s loved one, wouldn’t they want all the drivers to pull over to let the ambulance through?

Omar’s navigation skills were challenged today. Parking was practically non-existent. While circling the perimeter and all the alleys, I did discover that the ‘downtown core’ where the passport building is, seems to be the hub of all business in Jeddah. I saw the labour office and other buildings related to government business. There were masses of people all scurrying with their papers and documents. After searching for about 20 minutes, we followed a man to his car and parked in his vacated spot.

No place to park, no problem. The sidewalk works.

Next came the typewriter service.  A gentleman typed the paper which was to release us on our upcoming holiday. Omar walked me to the office and told me to call him when I was finished. He told me he needed to come and get me.  I didn’t ask questions at that point; thinking maybe women weren’t allowed to be alone in this area.

I entered the same building as I went in the other day and walked up to the wicket. I waited and waited some more. There were probably 50 – 60 women in the center today. One older lady was chatting to me pointing to my papers and although I didn’t understand her, I knew she was trying to be helpful because of her toothless grin.  I finally talk to the officer and she sends me to get a service ticket. Although the wall clock read 00 the whole time I was there, today they did have a numbered system. After I received my number, I went back to the officer. Waiting patiently, I finally get to the window again. Now I am told I need copies. Off I go outside to get copies. Thankfully, I had to get copies the other day so knew where to go. The lady that helped me the other day was most obliging again today.

Back to the wicket I go for a third time. While waiting to get to the front, the friendly older lady was getting her documents processed. She was pointing to my papers and chatting to me again. Another lady understood some English and interpreted for the elderly lady. She wanted to know if my documents were correctly filled out. I thought that was an interesting question to be asking me. A few minutes later, I found out why she was so curious. The officer was methodically doing the old lady’s paper work, undisturbed by the ladies who jump to the front of the line and ask her questions. When it came time for the old lady to sign her paper, she reached into her purse and pulled out a cloth change purse. From the change purse came a stamp that was attached to a key chain. The officer took the stamp, dabbed it in ink and stamped where the lady’s signature went. This kind old woman was worried I might not have filled in my paper work properly, possibly because she was illiterate. So sweet, I believe in her way, she was encouraging me.

Finally it is my turn. Again the officer systematically goes through the paper work and then tells me, “Hallas.” It means finished. I asked her how long it would be. She didn’t understand and I couldn’t understand her answer. I wait again.

After 40 minutes of waiting, I notice the officer who helped me the other day is now on duty. I go to her window and she recognizes me and puts her hand out to say hello. Women are very friendly and a handshake is a respectful way to say hello to someone you don’t know that well. Hugs and cheek kisses on both sides of your face, is a greeting for those that know you better. I tell her what I am waiting for and ask her how long it might be. I get the standard answer, “Maybe about 5 or 10 minutes.” Inside I chuckle as it has already been 40! Sitting back down, I practice more patience. More time lapses and I return to the English speaking officer. I ask her to check for me. Hallas, it has arrived and I am handed Glenn’s visa ‘ticket’ out. Omar comes to get me and off we go.

While I was learning how to get an exit/entrance visa for my ‘sponsored husband’, Omar went to have breakfast. I asked him to pick something up for me too. Below is a picture of a typical breakfast. It is called ‘foul’ and is a warm bean dip. With it comes this pizza sized warm bread. While Omar navigated me back to work, I enjoyed some of the bread and dip.

Four hours later, we are ½ way there. Next, I will wait for my employer to prepare my exit/entrance visa. When it is ready, I will trade my iqama for my passport and God willing, we will be off to Egypt.