You Can’t Triple Stamp a Double Stamp

Unfortunately one aspect in life can’t be avoided.

Just like annoying short-sighted political Facebook posts. Or people staring at their phones in every moment of life. Or endless dirty diapers. These can’t be avoided. You can try to steer clear of them, but it will rear its ugly head. What is it? It’s something that requires a triple stamp to your double stamp, government bureaucracy.

Nadine and I face a pending move from Qatar to Egypt. No move is as simple as boarding a plane. This work related move needs visas. A visa requires blood tests, ultrasounds for men, documentation attested, and documents to be double and triple stamped by various government agencies.

The morning was free. A work verification letter was next on the laundry list of tasks. It needed attestation. This stamped document simply verifies I had a full-time job.

The GPS system indicated this was the location of the Egyptian embassy. From my perspective, it was a mosque. I walked across the street to the nondescript entrance where two guards stood.

“As salaam alaikum. Do you know where the Egyptian Embassy is located?”

“Inside.”

Metal detectors preceded armed men inside the colorless hut. It didn’t take much to enter, just my passport, Qatar national I.d., a single piece of hair, the old password to my Napster account, and just one lucky sock.

Exiting the featureless hut, an opulent, massive white Pakistani Embassy sat under a green and white waving flag. Nothing else was visible. To the right was an empty road. To the left led around a blind corner. I followed it for two minutes and saw nothing but empty, sandy lots inside the complex walls. Feeling that I had come to the wrong place, falling victim to blindly following stupid Google directions, I turned and exited the complex. That same line had grown.

“Excuse me sir, where is the Egyptian embassy?” Making sure to enunciate the word Egyptian.

“Inside here.”

“I was just in there an only saw the Pakistani embassy.”

“Inside here, you take bus.”

“A bus?”

“Yes, from hut and take you to embassy.”

What the heck?!?!? I circled to the end of the longer line and repeated the process. Metal detector, passport, QID, keys, AOL passwords, etc. Then bureaucracy does what it does to everyone, teaches us patience.

I stepped on the bus with Qataris, Lebanese, Kenyans, Italians, and circled the entire embassy complex for the tour. A half dozen empty lots followed each embassy. Fortunately, the Egyptian embassy was the last stop, just around the corer from the Pakistani border. Alanis Morresette, it was just a bit ironic.

An embassy reveals a country’s character on many levels. If the first three minutes inside the Egyptian embassy reveals anything of this Egyptian microcosm, life will be different from Qatar on my levels.

Qatar is orderly, clean, and efficient. The Egyptian embassy wasn’t.

People queue in Doha, except for Qataris. People crowded the desks and embassy employees at the embassy.

Fortunately there was Mariam. She was the one person with impeccable English. We will have to learn some Arabic.

Mariam kindly mentioned, “You have to go to the Qatari Office of Foreign Affairs. We can’t complete the work verification letter until their Office of Foreign Affairs stamps your letter first.”

“Where is that?”

“Get on the bus and the driver will take you there.”

In reality, I could saunter there quicker. If I knew where it was. Another bus carried me past South Korean and Sudanese embassies to the Qatari Office of Foreign Affairs.

In the Qatar office, security guards collected my i.d. and phone number (which I had to leave in the first security office. Inside the office of foreign affairs was a step back in time. People had to sit awkwardly in a government building with strangers without a phone to stare at aimlessly.

Once it was time to attest my work verification letters, Mahmoud kindly informed me that all the information I had just learned about this embassy complex would be useful. Why? The work verification letters I held in my folder were copies and would not be accepted. This whole process would be repeated again in a few days with authentic letters.

In the end, the morning was a practice in patience and learning where I would have to go next time to double stamp a triple stamp.