Look Who is First in Line!
Let It Rain
I approached the embassy like a sophomore in college with aspirations. Not a lost freshman staring at his schedule, aimlessly looking around, mumbling to myself. In hand I had the original work verification letters and a marriage certificate, just in case it would prove useful. The marriage certificate was the original from our move to Qatar.
Fortunately it was raining in Doha. Not only is rain uncommon, it effects individuals like New Mexican education, it causes elusion. Most people don’t like to drive in rain as streets become slippery with a thin layer of water and sand.
No Time Like the Present
As I had mentioned previously, an embassy revels a lot about a country and culture. Every time I checked for Egyptian Embassy opening hours, it was different. Every call went unanswered. I arranged to arrive when the embassy complex first opened . . . at 8:00 a.m.
At the entrance, there was no line. No one waited. I passed security and climbed into the bus for the Qatari Office of Foreign Affairs. I was in and out of their office in record time. Like a college Junior.
Next bus was the Egyptian embassy with the entrance door sealed shut with a large golden padlock. Soon after a bus driver stopped and a single woman got off. I asked the bus driver if he knew when it would open.
“9 a.m.”
In front of the embassy, the rain had become a drizzle. I greeted the woman in basic Arabic. Her face lit up, “Oh when you are going to Egypt?”
“Actually my family are I are moving there in August.
“Oh you’ll love it. The people are so nice. What you do in Egypt?”
“We teach.”
“Oh, great.”
And like many of my conversations in college, it ended after only a brief conversation.
Come to find out, she was Palestinian having lived in Qatar for over twenty years. She wanted visit her sister in Cairo.
I’m Number One
By “scheduled” opening time, the padlock hadn’t been disturbed by employees, still locked. But two cars did enter a side gate ten minutes later. Soon a man exited the embassy and unlocked it. Inside, the woman quickly asked her question. The question about attesting my work verification letter went unanswered. There was a language barrier with the language teacher. He didn’t understand my English and I didn’t understand his Arabic. Thus, the happy, kind Palestinian woman promptly jumped in and translated my request inside the quiet vacant embassy lobby. Soon I held a paper with the number 1.
For 15 minutes, I sat peacefully in a slightly dilapidated waiting area with a creaky, metal chair and plastic cushions under my rear end. The same well dressed young woman from my first visit called my number. I presented our newly authenticated work verification letters with new Qatari stamps. She said it would be ready in two two hours.
Great Ideas
Then I had a great idea. Maybe, just maybe, since my last attempt attesting our marriage certificate in the United States failed miserably in Chicago, that the Egyptian embassy could simply attest it. We had the same procedure done for our move to Qatar in 2019.
“Sure, but you have to get it stamped at the Qatari Office of Foreign Affairs.”
“But it’s already stamped.”
“It can’t be older than a year.”
“But if I get the stamp, that will work?”
“Yes”.
Why Yes, You Can Triple Stamp a Double Stamp
A Win Against Bureaucracy
The drizzle had stopped leaving the normal dusty air clean. Just like that, I was back on the bus to the same Qatari Office of Foreign Affairs, which was becoming less foreign by the minute. Inside, I grabbed another number and waited patiently. But something unusual happened with bureaucracy, in no time at all, there was a triple stamp on my double stamp for the marriage certification. It had become efficient.
Once again, like Keanu Reeves, but this time without his Sandra Bullock, I was on another bus hurtling towards the Egyptian Embassy, but at a much more manageable speed. Again inside the embassy, only a handful of people had entered in my absence. And for a second time, I presented Mariam our attested documentation. Now I waited.
Over the next two hours, the embassy provided just enough time for an embassy employee to yell at someone in the lobby. Soon after, someone called out in highly Arabic accented English, “Clare Nadine”. My mind struggled to figure out if he had just indeed said my wife’s name. When I approached and saw in his hand our marriage certificate and work verification letters, relief spread like a college Senior finishing his final exam.
In the end, it was a win in the game of bureaucracy.
Next step in the move to Cairo, sell our belongings and packing those few items we want to keep in nice little boxes.
