It was a long day. I met the HR Advisor for Expats and she had a driver go back and pick-up C as well. Better for us both to hear everything she said! While that was happening I met the office. There are two languages at the office...Arabic and French. Oh Goodie. Let's hope those French books show up with my stuff soon. In the meantime, my Frenglish is improving by the minute. "Tu as francaise?" "No."
C arrived and it was all explained to us - sort of. C's residence permit is processed after mine is obtained. So getting my permit finalized is the top priority. There is a whole list of things we have to do. We get our blood type test (this is needed for the residence permit I think?) and we each get 12 ID photos. PS. These photos seem to be required for absolutely everything. At the same time, we get to see parts of the city and some furniture shops.
We also see our new home. But more on that later. :)
At the end of a long day, we are taken to the hotel and told to both be ready for 6am. We are given a pile of papers, told to bring them all plus our passports and drivers licenses the next day.
Day 2
6:00am comes. We are picked up and taken to a government building somewhere in what happens to be the middle of the desert. We meet a gentleman who I later learn is the "Company Liaison" - we will call him Mr. H. It is a chaos out here. I am told to get in line a door marked "ladies" and with each passing second this line is growing longer. Mr. H gives me a visa electron card and writes down his PIN # for me. I don't know what this is for. Then C is taken away to "Waiting Room Men / Typing Room". I am told he will be there when I am done.
And then I wait. Outside. For almost an hour. It is about 35 degrees...remember is it not yet 7am. I gather from signs posted that I am here to get my medical done for my residence permit. I also gather from spending an hour watching people that there a lot of locals also registering their "workers" today. Let's just say you don't need an advanced degree to figure this out.
Finally they let us in and we all get a number. And then I wait in another line where eventually a nurse clad in the full traditional dress (only eyes showing) shouts at me first in Arabic and then goes "BABY?". I say "no". She gives me a piece of paper and I sit and wait in another room (this time on a chair) and I am thankful for the air conditioning as the room fills with 200 people also waiting. All of whom appear to be screaming in Arabic.
Again, I discern from sign reading (very important skill to have) that I am here to pay. Once I pay, I will need a medical exam, an x-ray and then a blood test. The sign tells me there will be colour coded arrows and dots to guide me. I write down the order of the colours. I suddenly remember from the guide books that I am being checked for TB (x-ray) and HIV (blood test). I pay and I am told I don't need the medical. Excellent. The other tests go fine.
I leave and Mr. H is magically there outside with all the other men who opted out of "Waiting Room Men". I give him his visa back and all the forms I received plus my passport. We grab C and drive madly over to the traffic police (between the slaughterhouse and the fish market - see C's post) where we take eye tests. This is after Mr. H shakes hands with many people, disappears for a bit with our paperwork, passports, licenses, etc. We both pass the eye test. Mr. H keeps everything.
I come back to the office and do an afternoon of hand-over. Eventually I am brought back to the hotel. We left before breakfast was available and didn't stop for lunch. I have had two apples and a banana all day. We order room service and fall asleep right after. Apparently the jet lag found us.
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