[Dis] Respected

Me in Abayat & Shayla - clothing that is compulsory in public in Saudi Arabia, but also normal wear across the across the Arab Gulf.

Applying for a visa for the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia is not for the faint of heart.  

Some weeks into the process, I falter.  Hence the phone call:

Me:  I have worked at many universities in the Arab Gulf, always government, and I have NEVER had to beg for a visa!  I have a PhD! [That would be Dr Bitch to you.] I will not beg!

Him: No!  That is not the right way!

Me: But that is what She says!  Khalas!  I have been disrespected!

Him: No! Your employer acted very fast!  They respect you!  We respect you! 

Me: I know!  This is not your fault!  But She says I must come to Canberra to prove who I am!  Khalas!  I will work in other countries!

To fully appreciate this conversation, you need to first familiarize yourself with five expressions that take on a new meaning when negotiating with Gulf Arabs:

1.     Beg = What humans should never do.

2.     Disrespected = You have been rude to me and I am seriously pissed off,

3.     Not the right way = Someone has screwed up or is about to,

4.     Khalas! = Enough already!  I’m done! and

5.     Miscommunication = Let’s pretend this whole problem never happened.

If this seems a highly emotive to you, that is because it is.  Arabs are.  Memories of a student come back to me:  “But Dr Simone! We’re Arab!  We have to shout and wave our arms around!”

And it is also emotive because of what preceded it.  I refer to the 16 – SIXTEEN! - documents that must be assembled. In order.  These include:

• 27 Medical Checks (1 document) – and stamped national certification that my doctor really IS a doctor, 
• A red-seal notarized copy of my PhD ($88 per 10 minutes for these guys), authenticated by the Dept of Foreign Affairs ($20 only, lodge before 1pm), verified by my university who were required to email the Embassy copying me, before it is finally stamped by the Saudi Arabian Cultural Mission and returned to me for submission, and
• A signed statement acknowledging that smuggling booze and narcotics into Saudi Arabia may be punishable by death. [Got it.]

3 of the 16 documents - plus passport photo.  I challenge anyone not to look like an ax murderer after applying for a Saudi visa.

So ok, you think.  Compile a few documents.  I do that for my tax each year.  Easy peasy.

But you would be wrong because the big difference between compiling documents for other purposes and applying for a Saudi visa is this: 

No one will tell you what the required documents actually are.

WT???

However, some weeks later, the documents are finally assembled, scanned and ready to send. 

Then the problems really begin.

First there are missing documents.  Arguments ensue between my employer and the visa agent, VFS, through whom you MUST communicate, over what is meant by a ‘MOFA letter.’  13 emails pass back and forth until the VFS triumphantly emails us both the MOFA letter they were demanding I send them in order to win the argument.  WT???

Then there were ID numbers that I got wrong on the application form because – surprise! surprise! - they were written in Arabic, which I can’t read.  Boss emails the document back with big circles around the relevant numbers and the Roman numeral translation.  “This should do it’ he says.

Then finally, 10 days after my visa processing appointment, my visa application fails because She at the Embassy decides that the contract I have signed is not a contract.

WT???

Many phone calls, emails and yet another week later, I sort out the conflicting information I have been given by VFS, the Embassy itself and the Embassy’s Cultural Mission. 

Contrary to everything VFS has instructed me to do (they are only the visa agent whose sole job it is to provide this advice after all), it eventuates that:

1. My employer must send the contract directly to them to prevent my fabricating it. 
2. I must then fly to Canberra, arrive at the Cultural Mission at 9.30am, wait for 2 hours while they draw up a temporary contract and finally walk the document down the road to VFS.

So while I investigate transport to Australia’s hideous capital city, Canberra, 662km/411miles away [buses no longer running, train track work has slowed services to a halt, airfares expensive as hell because who in their right mind would want to go to Canberra], I become really, REALLY angry.

And have the conversation you read above.

And I feel much better because after we metaphorically shouted and waved our hands around – the joy of familiar territory! - after we bonded around how much we hated Canberra, Him decided to take it to his superior.

Within 24 hours there is an email to all the parties concerned declaring the contract “stamped.”

Another 4 hours and She at the Embassy has requested VFS return my visa application for “final processing.”

You know what this means?

It has all just been a “miscommunication.”

Hope you find some miscommunications for all your problems too.

Simone, the Finally Respected