|
JAYNE WITH A WHY |
|
|
. : Recent Posts : .
A SMALL FAVOUR . : Archives : .
January 2006 . : On My Perch at Night, I'm Reading A Book On My Kindle: .
|
. : motley assortment of blogs from other parts of the multiverse : .
. : MY FAMILY MOTTO: FUCK 'EM ALL EXCEPT US: .
. : Credits : .
Template By Caz . : email: spadgesmum at gmail dot com .
|
|||||
Saturday, January 10, 2009CHOOSE ONE 1st Scenario . You enter a well signposted ministerial building, divided into several sections. You find the one you need, take your electronic number & await your turn in what appears to be a busy queue. Your number is called & you seat yourself in front of a ministerial employee, who seems terribly efficient. You make your request for a visa extension & hand over your passport & assorted documents. The employee smiles at you, checks the necessary documents, puts some information into a computer & within 2 minutes, puts a small sticker in your passport. Sed sticker states that your visa has been extended. You thank him & leave, thinking silently to yourself that it was a rather quicker-than-anticipated stress-free process. . . . 2nd Scenario . You phone a friend to ask where this ministerial building is. She very kindly offers to take you, as she also needs to go there. At the entrance to the building, you ask a policeman - who is manning a counter in a helpful way - where is it that you need to go. You are directed to a nearby building, which upon entering, seems to be filled with people. You notice that there is an electronic number system, so you do a visual 360 degree check to find out where you can obtain a ticket, as there is no sign or indicator to tell you where it is. You see a desk in the corner, with a man behind it & you approach. You tell the man you need a visa extention. He punches a small machine, which spews out a little ticket. You take your ticket & wait small. Then you wait small for a bit longer. Your 'series' of numbers doesn't appear to be moving very quickly. Eventually, your number is called & you approach an official as his designated counter. You tell him that you need an extention on your visa & hand over your passport. He looks at it, punches in some information into his computer & then tells you that you need to get the application form (which is in Arabic) from the 'typist', plus a photo. Once both of those items are obtained, you're instructed to come back to him. . You note that there are A4 sized bits of paper taped to various walls, stating 'Typing' & an arrow pointing which way to go. You follow the directions & come to another building, which lo & behold is the 'Typing' place. There is no electronic numbering system. You approach a counter & a seated individual asks "typing?". You nod & he waves his hand in a dismissive manner, indicating the far end of the room. There are 3 abaya clad females, whom you assume to be typists. You take a seat & await your turn. One typist disappears after a few minutes, which leaves 2 to help an ever increasing amount of people, who want the same as you do. Several individuals hover behind people who are being attended to.They ignore people who were there before themselves & at the first opportunity, make sure they are in fact attended to before other more patient people, like yourself. After this happened 3 times, you get up & stand so close to the female that is currently being attended to that you can see her dandruff. You stand, arms crossed & put on a 'don't fuck with me, cos I've had enough of you lot' face & silently dare someone to try & push in ahead of you. Eventually, the woman in front of you completes her transaction & you get in the chair faster than greased lightening. As your bum hits the chair, a man approaches from the left, shoves a wad of papers at the assistant & rabbits away in Arabic. She in turn insinuates that she cannot help 2 people at once & whom must she see? He begrudgingly allows you to state your case. "I need a visa extention" you say. "?" she replies. You hand over your passport & again say that you need a visa extention. "?" She either cannot or simply refuses to speak English. She turns & assumedly asks her fellow worker something. Sed fellow worker looks up from her keyboard, flicks her hijab & says "What you want?" At this point you're so sorely tempted to ask her for cod & chips twice, with mushy peas on the side, but you think she wouldn't 'get it' & so for the 3rd time, you said very politely that you want a visa extension. The penny finally dropped with the cretin employed as a typist. She takes your passport. She was a single digit typist. After every single letter that made the connection between her one finger & the keyboard, she looked at the monitor of her computer. It took just over 20 minutes for her to type in a name, an address - consisting of a P.O.Box number - & a telephone number. The telephone number was repeated at least 4 times because somewhere between her brain & the keyboard, there appeared to have been a missing link. After an agonisingly painful 20 plus minutes & numerous interuptions, you're finally handed the necessary computer generated application form, to take back to the first building. But you need photos too!! You ask an official passing by where can you obtain 'passport photos' & you are informed 'outside - maybe 10 minutes walk away'. Blinding. You exit the whole ministerial complex, in search of one of the many fast-foto shops. One fag & 4 passport type photos later, you make your way back to the ministerial building. . You enter the '1st' building, take your electronic ticket & wait small with an air of superiority, because this time, you know you have everything possibly required. Your turn is announced & you hand your passport, your photos & your application form to the official. He grunts, punches in the information into his computer & flicks through your passport. Not satisfied, he flicks through every page, again. And finally, again. A little sticker is spat out of a machine. The official places the little sticker on the same page as the last visa, which took him 4 attempts to locate - either that or he was interested in where you'd been in the last 8yrs. He slides your passport back across his desk at you, along with the 4 photos, which he tells you, weren't necessary. Your visa has been extended for 30 days. You leave the ministerial complex after a couple of hours & wait in line for a taxi to go home. . Someone tries to push in ahead of you. . You tell them to fuck off & at the same time, get some manners. . . . . Now, which do you think was my scenario?
 
|
