Jon's Blog

Qatar notes 27 Oct 2003

Today was driver's license day. Zach, Danna, Lailah and I were picked up by a driver from the Qatar Foundation, and taken downtown to the Traffic Administration building. Lailah is Jordanian, and has lived in Qatar for two years.  You will probably notice, in looking through the pictures I've taken, that many of the buildings look pretty dated. Part of this, of course, is due to the fact that they are dated, but the intense heat in this part of the world necessitates construction techniques involving thick concrete, overhangs, insulating air spaces, walls within walls, and things of that nature that tend to make a building look rather clunky by our standards. I'll have to get some pictures of some of the unique techniques they employ to keep the interior temperatures comfortable.

At any rate, the Traffic Administration building is no exception. It's dated. It's old. Remember the pictures of Yasser Arafat's compound after the Israelis were finished with it? That's the image that springs to my mind when I think about the Traffic Administration building. It's not crumbling, but somehow it seems like it should be. After expertly navigating the large QF van through the parking lot where cars were parked pell-mell, our driver led us into the building where he located a man--an employee, I assume--who was to help us get our paperwork in order.

First, he needed to get our applications (with photos attached) stapled to copies of our passports. He had some difficulty matching our passport pictures to our other photos, and more difficulty matching any of the photos to any of us. Did you ever think that all Arabs looked alike? Well, Westerners all look alike to them. Once we had that straightened out, we went across the courtyard, up some stairs, and around a corner to get our eye exams. One door was marked "Men Entrance" and the other said "Ladies Entrance." It's not really discrimination; rather, it's more like protective separation. Their mindset, as I understand it, is sort of a mildly twisted version of 1 Peter 3:7.

Back to the eye test...when I walked in, a lady (wearing elbow-length black gloves--she's not supposed to touch men, since it's Ramadan) had me pick up a pink cardboard circle, sit down in a chair, and cover one eye at a time with the cardboard circle while she shone an eye chart up on the far wall. Once I would read a line of letters, she'd flash to a second screen of letters to see if I could read any of those. At one point, she put a new chart on the wall and I said, "Ummm..." at which point she turned off the projector, scribbled on my paperwork, handed it to me and waved me out the door. I figured I must have passed. Our guide then took us to a couple more rooms, where we did nothing but stand for a minute or two (I'm not sure what was going on there), and then it was back to the original area. He determined that they needed other paperwork from us...our medical reports (which we didn't have), copies of our current visas (fortunately they had a small copy shop across the courtyard, which entailed a 10x10' room with an archaic copier at one side), and, from Lailah, a copy of her husband's passport. In order to reside in Qatar, you must have a local sponsor. Our sponsor is the Qatar Foundation, but Lailah's sponsor is her husband. So, she was out of luck, and would have to come back another day with a copy of her husband's passport.

After numerous run-arounds, once it looked like we had hit an impasse, I finally pulled out my mobile phone and called Hala back at our office, then handed the phone to Danna and told her what to do. I then went to stand in "line" to turn in my paperwork. Around here, a "line" is just a group of people clustered around a window, and your place in "line" is determined by whether or not you are the first one to shove your paperwork across the counter when the previous person is finished. There's very little concept of "taking turns" here; you're all in it together, and you just have to stay alert and move quickly. But it's all done very amiably...if someone elbows in front of you, and you tell them that you were there first, they'll almost always back off very politely. Once I got my paperwork shoved across, the officer informed me that I needed some other signatures from my sponsor (QF had stamped the papers, but there was no actual signature).

Meanwhile, Danna had spoken with Hala, who called Ali at the Qatar Foundation, who called back to my mobile and asked to speak with our guide. After a brief exchange in Arabic, the guide hung up, collected all of our paperwork, our license fees, and our Texas driver's licenses (!) from us, and promised that he would take care of everything and send our papers to us. Then we left. Getting things done quickly around here requires talking to the right people, and having the right connections. In Texas, we call it the "good ol' boy network." I don't know how that translates into Arabic, but you can bet your boots it does.

Posted by jon at October 28, 2003 07:19 AM