No More, No Less

One and a half hours after I arrived at the Ministry I was done. When I left, I knew no more than I did when I arrived.

I was dropped off at the building and I waited until there was a Qatari lady to follow in (this is key to ensuring that you don’t go to the wrong section and end up in a room full of men who are instantly annoyed at your ignorance). Like her, I went to the information desk and was given a number and directions to go to the second floor.

The second floor was a lot of chaos. A foyer with a set of doors at one end and a long hall with a waiting room and empty office at the other end. The guard at the desk said – “wait” and pointed to the hallway. There must have been close to 100 people standing and waiting throughout the foyer, hallway and waiting room. Like a good Canadian, I found the closest thing to a line and stood in it.

I was next to a sweet Indian lady who was as confused as I was. The guy standing next to us took pity on us and told us that they would call numbers on the screen and then we would proceed to the next room.

It was about this time that the Company Man (one I hadn't met yet – Mr. K) arrived. A stern looking Qatari, he was a man of few words. He took note of my number, told me to wait and then he left.

So I waited. And waited. And waited some more. There was lots to watch, as I leaned against the hallway wall cursing my dress shoes. No race, sex, class, age or gender seems to escape the Immigration Department experience.

When my number came up, I followed the crowd into another room (Mr. K was there too) and then they called my name (okay, they called Helifer or something like that…so good thing Mr. K was there!). Then I go into yet another room and wait some more with about 10 others.

Then this incredibly loud buzzer rings and they call five of us into this room where there is a boardroom table, six men sitting on one side and five empty chairs on the other side. First person called sits in the first chair, second person in the next and so on. I am the lucky first one so I get to face two of the men.

They have a stack of papers – in Arabic and clearly from the Company (I see the stamp). They do not acknowledge me just yet. I sit with my binder ready - photocopies of every document related to my life and C’s - ready to go.

They say hello and “why are you here?”. Many answers ran through my head including – “you tell me – you’re the ones who called the meeting!” but the answer was “About my husband’s visa”.

“Ah yes”. Arabic conversation ensues between the two men. All I get is “Jennifer” and “Canadian”. I nod appropriately at the key words, but they aren’t paying attention to me anyway.

“What is your profession?”

“Contract Engineer”

“Ah.”

Pause.

“Check online in three days, Insha’Allah, okay?”

“Okay, we are done?” (I get up to leave) “Thank you for your time”

“No” (I sit back down)

“You check after three days online, Insha’Allah, use your ID card number”.

“Okay. Thank you. I can go?”

“Yes, okay, leave”

Outside I let my Indian friend know what to expect and wish her good luck. She is trying to get visas for her children.

Then I find Mr. K and relay the information to him. He says nothing. Awkwardly I ask “Good? Bad? What do you think?”. I get a serious look and no answer. We get to the lobby and I have to wait for him to go and do more things. I don’t think it has anything to do with me anymore. My Indian friend comes out. They told her to check in two days online and she smiling and feeling quite happy. This only adds to the growing knot in my stomach.

Mr. K comes and we leave. He is very quiet and looking forward to a vacation coming soon. In the car he tells me they are “very strict now. Stopping lots of women, even the nurses in Medical City, from bringing their husbands”. I think we can draw our own conclusions here. I hope I didn’t offend Mr. K, but I didn’t have much to say on the way back to work.

I really appreciate the kindness and support of my co-workers, but I am frustrated inside.

But the biggest frustration comes from realizing a painful truth. We know it and everyone in my office knows it and some are even so kind as to point it out - C should have looked harder for a job before we came.

The job searching that we are doing now, the companies we are emailing, the searching being done – it all could have been done from home. I am not convinced it would have resulted in a job but who knows, we didn’t try so we don't know and we can’t go back and change things.

I know I am being sensitive, but because I can’t say it anywhere else but here, I think there are some people that think that we were a bit young and naive and that we thought the Company would find C a job. We didn't think that - we really just “overestimated” the job market.

I need to keep my sensitivity in check though, because for every one person that might be critical, there are at leat two or more who are so kind and helpful and this means a lot - especially right now!

Three days...