Most days I do my best to remind myself my Western expectations and standards are waiting patiently for me west of the International Date Line . Often I repeat a mantra such as, “Just be patient, This person’s English is much better than my Arabic/Indonesian/Pilipino/Pakistani; I am grateful this person understands me; This ain’t Kansas Glenn; This too shall pass, and the list goes on. Some days my actual actions of my desired attitude and behaviour are better than others.
This past week has been particularly challenging and tonight when I was walking around our walled compound, I was motivated to record two experiences. I was thinking ahead to the days when I could independently drive to do my errands, perhaps stopping for a Timmy’s coffee and wondering if I might be impatient because the drive through line is longer than I want. On those occasions, I hope to remember my tests and trials in Jeddah.
The hospital trip six days ago required tenacity. Because we are still waiting for Glenn’s medical to be activated, I went to get some medicine for him. With ointment bottle in hand, I was dropped at the Emergency. Given it wasn’t an emergency I inquired where to go to make a Doctor’s appointment. Across the street and into the other building I hiked. The sun glasses on the receptionist who sat behind the desk were interesting; he asked another person to help him with my request. After being fingerprinted and invoice in hand, up to the 5th floor I went. The English sign of Dermatology helped me navigate to the correct reception office. There I was told to go to reception. “No,” I say, “I was just there.”After a few exchanges, I realized it was the reception on the 5th floor she wanted me to go to.
I paid my 12 SAR to visit the doctor and the receptionist sent me in a different direction than Dermatology. Off I went. Thankfully, common sense kicked in. I returned to the reception desk and told her I needed Dermatology, not Ophthalmology. She respectfully requested why I asked for ophthalmology when I wanted dermatology. Well, it’s another classic example of language and enunciation.
Back to the Dermatology office I went. A lovely little touch that the hospital offers while one waits, is an offering of tea or coffee. Although I thought I was pouring Arabic coffee, I enjoyed a teeny cup of hot sugared tea. Clearly it wasn’t going to be the first surprise of the day. Before I opened my book, I am called into the Doctor’s office. I asked for the prescription and without batting an eye or an examination, I am given it.
The Saudi hospitals have in-house pharmacies. When I find the pharmacy, I am told I need to go to the other building for the prescription. Back across the street I find the second pharmacy. Luck would have it, no line up or waiting was required. Unfortunately, the pharmacist tells me I have to go back to the other building to get my prescription approved.
The six or seven agents make it a challenge to find the one to approve my medical plan. He takes my information and now I wait for the company to get back to him. I am told that the medical insurance has declined both prescriptions.
By this time, I am grinding my teeth, biting my tongue and remembering to curl my lips upwards because this person is just the messenger. Off to the pharmacy I go again . . . . The pharmacist tells me they cannot deny the cream because it is a medicine which heals.
I tell him that I don’t mind, I will just pay. He tells me if I change my mind to come back and he will reimburse my money. Now, I should have just picked up the medicine, grabbed a cappuccino before I exited the building, and headed home. Nope, the basic idea of a standard and principle began to percolate in me.
Back to the approval desk I go. After standing to wait my turn, I inform the messenger the company cannot refuse this medication. He asked me to talk to the supervisor, I asked him to look after it for me. I thought that would be more respectful for everyone!
Halas, off I go; one more trek back to the pharmacy with the approval in hand. The competent pharmacist cheerfully refunded my money and three hours later, I am home again home again.
Now Goa ing to Goa, India, has required persistence and planning backwards by design! A couple of highlights are worthy of recording. Canadians need a visitor’s visa prior to arriving in India. Given most things are very low tech here in Jeddah, I started getting our documents in order back in early December. After finding the Indian Embassy in the maze of Jeddah’s oldest section, I am told that I need a letter of permission from my Employer to say that I am allowed to travel! Really? Ok, no problem. I write the letter, have the HR manager stamp and sign it and the driver and I return the following day to deliver the Goa-head letter. I asked my driver to come into the building and introduced him to the person who would issue our passports to him the following day. Three trips on three different days and our India visas are a Goa.
Paying for our accommodations required Goa ing to banks a total of six times. After Goa ing to the wrong bank two times, it only took four other trips to the correct bank; my bank! Wrong forms incorrectly filled out returned our SAR into our Jeddah bank account. Oops. Incorrectly printing SAR instead of Indian Rupees on the top line, slipped by the three men who were helping me with the International transaction. Two times the bank’s systems were down. Of course this required a trip back at a later time, often the next day. Consistent persistent determination, all-the-while keeping my eye on the goal, helped me hurtle the numerous speed bumps, literally and figuratively.
The last hiccup was one week prior to flying, Air India informed us that the entire flight had been cancelled. I should have seen this coming. Although we booked in September 2011, the flight time had been changed four times. As a result of the cancellation, they put us on a different flight; unfortunately, the connecting flights were all a day too early! When I phoned to request compensation for the accommodation which had already been paid for, or reassign us to first class, they quickly found us an alternative flight leaving at the same time as our cancelled flight.
Goa ing to remind myself that hanging with our dear friends Bob and Dawn from Campbell River will only require the worldly standard of laughter and love.
Central B.C. - Greeen Lake at the Hughe's cottage
