Welcome to Qatar!

Welcome to Qatar!  Today was my day to visit the State of Qatar, Supreme Council of Health Medical Commission Department.  I am not sure what the process is to live and work in the United States as a foreigner, but here is a little example of how the process works in Qatar.  In order to live in Qatar, you must have a "Residency Permit" also known as a "RP".   As the employee, Roger has the primary RP and ours are issued under his as a "Joining Family".  Before you can get a Qatari drivers license or really anything, you must get your RP.   It is important to note that if you wish to bring any live-in domestic help into the country, you must follow the same process and have her added under your RP as well, like a member of your family.  Kind of.   The State of Qatar wants to make sure that no one enters the country with an infectious disease, so adults must submit blood work and have a Chest X-ray taken at the Health Department as part of the RP process.  The building has 2 very distinct entrances, one for Men and another one for Ladies.  When Roger was escorted through this magical building, he had a guide helping him, handling all of the paperwork for him.  My experience was just a bit different.  First, the place was mobbed with people.  Someone mentioned the Health Department would be closed for the next 10 days to observe the end of Ramadan and the Eid celebration taking place September 10 - 14.  So, apparently it was busier than usual.  Roger, Mark, Chauncey, and I arrive at the building and Roger leads the way inside to our first stop.  He is not entirely sure where he is going, but fortunately someone points him in the right direction and we find ourselves sitting in front of a woman in full Muslim dress (burqa).  She is sitting at an old, small desk with 2 really old Brother typewriters.  She takes our passports and Visa paperwork and adds 2 new forms that are written entirely in Arabic.  One is for Mark and the other is for Chauncey.  I only know this because she used both typewriters to complete the forms, one typewriter for Arabic, and the other for English to add their name onto each form.  She then told Roger to give his Debit card to me and for us to go outside to the Ladies Entrance.  The line to enter the Ladies Entrance was wrapped around the outside of the building, so we joined the line and preceeded to wait.  Not sure if the kids would need to have similar medical tests, or if I was the only one to endure the process.  Soon after joining the line, a man shouted to Roger that he was not allowed to wait in line with me, Ladies only!  All husbands are to wait over on the side of the building.  So Roger reluctantly moved away.  A short while later, the same man looked over at me and the kids and told me to send the kids over to their father because it was too crowded inside for the kids.  After a few more minutes, it was my turn to enter the building.  A security guard at the door was giving each woman a number.  Mine was 6225. 

In very small print at the bottom of the computerized slip it read: "There are 202 person waiting".  Not a good sign.  When I entered the building I saw a fairly large room with about 8 rows of 20 chairs divided by an aisle all facing 9 small cashier windows with an electronic board stating which number was being served at which window.  Think DMV at the busiest time, EVER.  Every seat was filled and all available empty space in the room was also filled, so the line snaked down a long hallway where it seemed to lose some of its orderly nature.  Off of the long hallway were waiting areas marked with signage for Blood-draw preparation and another for the X-Ray area.  Some women were sitting in chairs along the hallway, others waiting patiently in the pseudo line with small children, still others (mostly women trying to get their domestic help through the process) were pushing and forcing their way up towards what seemed like the front, into this small hallway where 3 burqa clad women sat at a long table.  Everyone seemed to be anxious to get to one of these women so I slowly inched my way up towards the little hallway.  The closer to the hallway I got, the more women seemed to push and shove. When it was my chance to show my paperwork to one of the women, all she did was copy Roger's cell phone number on a little slip of paper, hand it to me with my papers and direct me by pointing to the larger room where I had been waiting.  It took another 5 minutes to get through the doorway from the hall to the larger room because of the women pushing to get past in both directions.  Just past the doorway stood 2 western looking ladies and a little girl so I made my way over to them and commented on the crowd.  We compared numbers, realized we were within 30 numbers of each other and began speculating on what would happen next.  We would continue to speculate for the next 3 hours as we waited to see our numbers appear on the magic board.  Once my number appeared, it was then my turn to pay the 100 riyal fee for myself, Mark, and Chauncey.  So, I hand the woman behind the little window my paperwork and our Debit card to charge the 300 riyal total (approximately $87.00USD).  The woman runs the card and the transaction "fails", she tries again, "fails", she looks at me and I assure her that we have money, please try another time.  The third time results in a  "declined"  transaction and she begins to motion for me to leave.  I offer to pay cash and she points to a sign that explains she can only accept a cash card and directs me to the door where I entered 3 hours prior.  I quickly call Roger on his cell phone and he tells me that he received text messages from the bank that two of the transactions went through and were debited from our account and tells me there must be a mistake.  So now I am looking for some sort of manager.  I explain the situation to someone and they direct me into the Men's only section to see a manager down the hall.  After explaining to him, I am told that we will have to take it up with our bank and he directs me to the first building, where we started our journey, to a little bank window that for 20 riyals ($5.50USD) will take my 300 riyals and give me a "cash" card.  My new Cash Card in hand, I go back to the Ladies building and ask the security guard if I need a new number or just how do I now pay my fees when my number is no longer "up".  He waves me away and tells me to see a manager, that a new number is not necessary.  After searching for a manager for about 10 minutes, I find a burqa clad woman who speaks English and she tells me to get a new number, I let her know the security guard would not give me a new number so she mutters something in Arabic, then tells me to follow her.  She then processes my paperwork and fees then tells me to wait in the next area for my blood work and chest X-ray. The rest of the process takes another hour to complete and leaves me with a headache; feeling frustrated, tired, but thankful to have that part finished.  The whole process takes approximately 4 1/2 hours.  I really wish I had eaten more than a handful of granola before leaving the house in the morning.  But no water or food for me (it's Ramadan!), Roger picks me up in the parking lot and we drive to the grocery store to stock up before he leaves on a 3 day trip to New York.  Mark begins to whine as we walk across the parking lot into the store.  I turn to him and remind him that while he was either sitting in the air conditioned car playing his nintendo dsi or sitting at home eating lunch (I called Roger about an hour into the process to tell him to take the kids home), I had been standing in a very crowded room for over 4 hours, had a vial of blood drawn from my arm with a needle and had a chest x-ray, all with no food, water, or caffeine for the day.  OK, I may have growled.  Either way, he and Chauncey were very well behaved in the store and really for the rest of the day.