I got the call. Yes I got the call, May 1st would be the day. The day to begin the process for my resident permit in Qatar. A resident permit is everything. You can't buy a car, you can't access your bank account with out it. The big debate in America is voter ID, in most countries other than the US, you need an national identity card to do anything.
The process begins with the typing of your blood. Head to the Hospital and a finger prick later, a 15 minute sit and you leave the hospital with a certified copy of your body type. I'm "O" positive in case you are wondering. It's known as the universal donor type, so I got that going for me.
Take the copy of you blood type and surrender your passport to immigration control. Let's take a moment to discuss the feeling of surrendering your passport. Imagine being all alone in a dark room with no way out. That's what giving up your passport means. It is the one document that proves who you are. Most other documents you may have in your possession mean nothing. Officials do not have to recognize anything else.
Anyway your passport goes to immigration where something mystical happens and one day you get a call to show up at the rallying point for a bus that will take you to the medical clearing facility. I was lucky, I only had to wait 10 days for that call and the weather was only 100 degrees F. In August, when most of the educational employees go through this day the temps can range up to 120 degrees F.
The bus then takes you south in traffic to an industrial area. I am the only one on the bus who is white and most of the passengers speak some Arabic. After a 50 minute bus ride the bus stops and the driver looks at me and says, "Go to the V.I.P. section." Cool I always thought of myself as a very important person, I know my mother does. That's when I realize I am pretty much alone in a sea of humanity going through the same process.
They told me that I would be greeted by a man from the foundation to facilitate my process. I get herded into a waiting room and told to sit down. I look around and I see a slight problem. Remember the passport, well everyone seems to have a passport with paper work, but me. It doesn't take long for me to realize that without that little blue book I am going no where. 100 degrees F, remember. So I act like a very important VIP and act cool. I sit back and chill, inside I am freaking out. I text someone at the school...no answer. Thirty minutes later I spot the foundation man, remember the one who was going to greet me upon arrival. Acting cool, I ask, "You from QF?" "Yes," he says. "Did you bring my documents?".."No, they are on the way." "On the way..cool."
An hour and a half, my handler hands me my documents and makes me cut in line to register. They take the docs scan them and STAMP...Please follow the yellow line to chest X-Ray. Please take of your shirt in the hall. Press chest against the machine, click...another STAMP. Please dress quickly follow red line. Stop, scan document, receive bar coded vial...STAMP. Follow red line to blood draw. Wait in line. People cut in front of me. My handler sends the guy to the end of the line and proceeds to get in a lively discussion with another handler in Arabic. I stare forward. My handler wins and I never see the other man again. He has to go to the end of the line.
NEXT....I sit down the lady technician is a pro at taking blood. Tube, fist, blood draw...while filling up the vial she STAMPS my form with her free hand. She amazes me with her efficiency. NEXT
I leave and hand my passport to my handler again. Bye passport. I will see it again when I get the next call to get my finger prints for my background check.
What was amazing about the experience, is that for the first time I can imagine what it felt to going through Ellis Island. A sea of humanity often not speaking the language. Pushed, pulled to the next station and deposited out on the street of New York. One could take the experience personally, but I realize that the workers just need to move you through the line. It may seem impersonal, but you have to be really impressed by the efficiency. I am guessing they processed over 200 people that three hours. I have heard that on a good day they can do over 500, with over 30,000 people a year.
That's a lot of STAMPS. Stage one completed. Waiting on the next call
The process begins with the typing of your blood. Head to the Hospital and a finger prick later, a 15 minute sit and you leave the hospital with a certified copy of your body type. I'm "O" positive in case you are wondering. It's known as the universal donor type, so I got that going for me.
Take the copy of you blood type and surrender your passport to immigration control. Let's take a moment to discuss the feeling of surrendering your passport. Imagine being all alone in a dark room with no way out. That's what giving up your passport means. It is the one document that proves who you are. Most other documents you may have in your possession mean nothing. Officials do not have to recognize anything else.
Anyway your passport goes to immigration where something mystical happens and one day you get a call to show up at the rallying point for a bus that will take you to the medical clearing facility. I was lucky, I only had to wait 10 days for that call and the weather was only 100 degrees F. In August, when most of the educational employees go through this day the temps can range up to 120 degrees F.
The bus then takes you south in traffic to an industrial area. I am the only one on the bus who is white and most of the passengers speak some Arabic. After a 50 minute bus ride the bus stops and the driver looks at me and says, "Go to the V.I.P. section." Cool I always thought of myself as a very important person, I know my mother does. That's when I realize I am pretty much alone in a sea of humanity going through the same process.
They told me that I would be greeted by a man from the foundation to facilitate my process. I get herded into a waiting room and told to sit down. I look around and I see a slight problem. Remember the passport, well everyone seems to have a passport with paper work, but me. It doesn't take long for me to realize that without that little blue book I am going no where. 100 degrees F, remember. So I act like a very important VIP and act cool. I sit back and chill, inside I am freaking out. I text someone at the school...no answer. Thirty minutes later I spot the foundation man, remember the one who was going to greet me upon arrival. Acting cool, I ask, "You from QF?" "Yes," he says. "Did you bring my documents?".."No, they are on the way." "On the way..cool."
An hour and a half, my handler hands me my documents and makes me cut in line to register. They take the docs scan them and STAMP...Please follow the yellow line to chest X-Ray. Please take of your shirt in the hall. Press chest against the machine, click...another STAMP. Please dress quickly follow red line. Stop, scan document, receive bar coded vial...STAMP. Follow red line to blood draw. Wait in line. People cut in front of me. My handler sends the guy to the end of the line and proceeds to get in a lively discussion with another handler in Arabic. I stare forward. My handler wins and I never see the other man again. He has to go to the end of the line.
NEXT....I sit down the lady technician is a pro at taking blood. Tube, fist, blood draw...while filling up the vial she STAMPS my form with her free hand. She amazes me with her efficiency. NEXT
I leave and hand my passport to my handler again. Bye passport. I will see it again when I get the next call to get my finger prints for my background check.
What was amazing about the experience, is that for the first time I can imagine what it felt to going through Ellis Island. A sea of humanity often not speaking the language. Pushed, pulled to the next station and deposited out on the street of New York. One could take the experience personally, but I realize that the workers just need to move you through the line. It may seem impersonal, but you have to be really impressed by the efficiency. I am guessing they processed over 200 people that three hours. I have heard that on a good day they can do over 500, with over 30,000 people a year.
That's a lot of STAMPS. Stage one completed. Waiting on the next call
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