The big day finally arrived on Sunday. I received my Iqama. I had 3 things to do immediately; cell phone, bank account and jazawat (passport office). One little hiccup. My last name in the Arabic translation was missing the t. This isn’t a big deal, except for the bank. Those guys will find any reason to turn you away when trying to set up a bank account. It was late in the afternoon, so I had a coworker run me out to the Mobily store to get my Saudi cell phone.
Most business is conducted through cell phones here. Your mobile number is vital. I had to use someone elses even when applying for the Saudi Council of Engineers. Real chicken and egg, need a number, need an Iqama. So the cell number was established. With that and my Iqama number, I could sign up on the Ministry of the Interior’s website. This gives me access to Istiqdam, which is where I will apply to sponsor my family’s visas. The next step in the MOI is to go to jawazat and prove that I’m physically in Kingdom so that I can get full access to the site. It was late in the business day, and I had a few other things to do now that I had my cell. I decided to wait until the next day to try the bank and jazawat.
I arrived at the bank on Monday around 9:30 and took a number (Everything requires taking a number, and yes, it’s just like the DMV. The alternative is trying to get Saudis to form a line. I’ll take a number, thanks). It was around a twenty minute wait. I finally got my number called, and immediately was denied. No taa, no go. Kind of expected, but slightly disappointing.
The next was to go to old Yanbu and the jazawat. The luxury of many things being online was fully understood by me on this trip. The trip there was along the Red Sea, with little traffic until we hit downtown. My coworker had the address in his GPS. It took the shortest route, which was not the easiest route. We got to see the backways and alleys of old Yanbu, with the GPS at one point telling us to turn right then left the turn left then right. We finally arrived at the parking lot. There is no rhyme and certainly no reason to the parking lots, especially downtown. It resembled an apocalyptic movie where cars had just been stopped and abandoned haphazardly. My coworker pointed at the door and told me there was a kiosk to the right where I could activate my account.
I walked in the door (open air, no a/c anywhere in the joint) and turned to the right to find a group of about 14 standing around what I assumed was my kiosk. After a few minutes, the heat and indifference to hygiene made their appearance. The line expanded and contracted like a lung, as people would spread out to look at the screen, creep up, then get chided by those beside them to stay behind them (in Arabic, so I’m guessing here). There is no privacy at the screen, but it’s not an attempt to steal your information. It’s trying to figure out how to use the kiosk. The audience is more than happy to give you instruction if you spend more than 5 seconds trying to figure something out. Even though I was watching most of the ones ahead of me in Arabic, I had it figured out by my turn. Enter Iqama number, let the machine read your right pointer, then left pointer, enter cell phone, get activation code, enter that and you are done.
So, 2 outta 3 on getting the family over here. And a place to deposit my checks. I returned my Iqama to Support Services that afternoon and requested the last name to be corrected.
Tuesday afternoon I got my Iqama back. And turned around and handed it back to them. The translator had decided to drop a random d into my first name. This is expected. But not fun. The bank account is the last thing I need to start the application to get my family here. I think by this point, everyone reading the blog understands the importance of this, but not anyone over here who can actually make things happen. I need a correct translation on my Iqama.
Wednesday – nothing. Something about the guy having an emergency. Yes, he’s about to have an emergency.
Thursday afternoon, 2:47:32 p.m., my Iqama arrives with Brian David Ketron correctly translated into Arabic. The angels once again sang. I have kind of a rare Iqama now, since it shows the issue number – I’ve got a 3 next to mine. Many have 2, a select few have 1, but I’m the only one I know that has a 3.
The bank was a long shot, but I decided to give it a shot. The bank hours are until 4:30, but prayer time is around 4 right now. So they close shop around 3:50. I got there at 3:20, short wait, at desk at 3:30, told it was too late to open account at 3:32. It takes 20 minutes to open a new account. Can’t do it. I’ve been told by someone else that he had to plead to get one opened at 2:30. Hmph.
We made a stop at the KFC on the way home. I’ve avoided fast food, except for Pizza Hut on pizza night with the compound guys. I avoided it this time too, in the interest of my arteries. I also had found the perfect combination of frozen ground beef and pasta sauce, so I was in the middle of a 4-day spaghetti tour. Our last stop was the Hanco office at the Holiday Inn to rent a car. I finally had a horse.
We had a light sandstorm on Wednesday, but Thursday night got pretty interesting. I still don’t have enough experience to know what is rough, but this one was a good starting data point.
From Tennessee To Texas to Saudi Arabia 