Busy with paperwork

I missed my blog entry over the weekend as I was out watching U19 rugby in 35 degree heat.  Not the best for either the spectators or the players.  I’m not sure how they managed as I had enough trouble sitting in the shade with a breeze and copious amounts of water.  One girl fainted while at the water counter.  She obviously left it too late to top up.  You must drink heaps of water here.  I’ve bought us thermos bottles to keep the water cold but they are heavy to lug around and mine only holds 1 litre which I drink quickly.

How did I get there?  I’ve met this kiwi woman who has a 16 year old son and it was his team’s semi-final game.  They lost to a Dubai team which was well drilled.  I was interested to see the level of the rugby, nothing like at home in NZ.  The lineout was dismal to say the least and I’ve seen U12 teams do better.  There were lots of injuries due to lack of experience and knowledge on how to play.  The dads were the same as any rugby game in the world, plenty to say.  So I’m sure it wouldn’t be difficult to progress to top level here.

One thing that struck me was the size of the western men here.  It seems to be the land of plenty and I’ve heard talk of the Abu Dhabi stone.  I think it’s due to lack of exercise and ready access to anything you want.  I am aware of it myself already, not a stone but a few pounds anyway.  Even at school I don’t move around like I did back home as I am in my classroom and not going outside.  That will be the thing I miss the most, being able to hop outside in the shade and read a book.

I had to take a concrete pill and harden up yesterday morning.  I feel I’ve been given the runaround to get Lochie’s visa.  After the last entry I had to take my already attested documents (they have at least 4 stamps on them before we got here) to the NZ Embassy for another stamp.  Of course they are only open two mornings a week for three hours.  So Lochie took them to find out the stamp wasn't required.  Funny that.  Then I dropped them over next door and paid the extra to have them translated and stamped there. It was worth the money as I didn't have to run around town.

The latest episode involved them telling me that he was too old to be here and couldn’t get a visa.  So I was sent to immigration to find out what I needed to do to sponsor him.  What an experience! About 200 people in one room all waiting to get their visas.  So I get to the counter and then the only problem seemed to be that I didn’t have a husband.  “Where your husband?” I was asked by three different men as my forms are waved around the room.  Comments were then shared in Arabic which had all the men in the queue behind me laughing as well as the men behind the counter.  Talk about humiliating!!!!   I was then told to come back tomorrow morning to see the head man in his office.  Pity I have a job isn’t it????

So next morning I’m back and sensibly decided to take Lochie with me.  We go into the small office to find the man who tells me, “No English.”  Good start.  So I ask, “Is there anybody who does speak English?”  Yes, the other man sitting there.  Once again I ask what I need to do to sponsor my son.  They ask him how old he is then tell me I need letter from his father.  Which I explain I have and is in his hand.  So it needs to be translated into Arabic.  Ok.  Back we go to the office where our visas are being processed by our employer…

To find out that instead of translating the birth certificate I'd had my degree translated!  Very useful in a visa application.  So another 220 AED to get two documents translated.

By now the levels of frustration were running fairly high.  So left it all there and wait for a phonecall and see what the outcome is.

No wonder I don’t have time to blog.  Also I now have my iphone so have a life, plus the paycheck certainly  helped keep me out.