Day 35 - Umrah and More

Finally, I made Umrah today. I would say that this has been a good week. I got my health card after two days ago, so now I am covered for all my health with no co-pay and no premium and no percentages; I am totally covered. Yeah, after about six years of zero coverage in the US. Shame on You Ess. Just yesterday I got my Iqama, so now I can bring the wifee over and get a drivers licence and a car (when I can afford one) and bring the wifee over and get a bank account and bring the wifee over.

 

Oh, I can bring the wifee over, too.

 

And now, after all this time, I have finally made my Umrah.

 

For those of you who don't know what Umrah is... Google it!!!

 

For those of you who DO know what it is, but haven't gone yet, lemme tell ya about it.

 

Putting on the ihraam is crucial. By the time I was halfway through I have no idea how I was still clothed. Man, having a belt of some sort is detrimental to you privacy. I think Makkah was like, two twists and a turn from a major wardrobe failure, whew! I mean, ten more steps in those clothes and I'd a been flashing my ju-ju's at a lot of pilgrams. Yeah, so really practice your ihraam wearing skills before you use it for real.

 

I made the mistake of going on a weekend (Thursday and Friday are the weekends here) so there were a lot of people here. Man, just try to ignore the pushing and shoving. I was told that the second time you make Umrah you just get used to it, but this time, whoa Nelly! There where a few people who were pushing me. Yeah, like I can't see the crowd going tis way moron. I stopped dead in my tracks a few times just to mess with the guy. A lot of women pushing their way through, but this one dude took the cake. This was a guy mind you, who had his hand right above my butt. Oh no you don't!! My WIFE can touch me there, but dude, I have a towel wrapped around my waist with two safety pins, and I drove here with a guy doing the same thing... I feel gay enough as it is without this FRUITLOOP resting his hand on my lower back (read BUTT) giving me gentle shoves. Yeah, I grabbed his hand quite firmly and lowered it off me and turned to look dead in his face and said in plain English, "Sir, please stop molesting me. Thank you."

 

I don't know if he spoke English, but he understood that.

 

Safaa and Marwa (the two mountains) were the part that I was the most intimidated by going in. Granted, I was told that they were not really mountains but more like hills. Let me instead tell you that a better description of Safaa and Marwa is that they are like two glorified speed-bumps. I'm pretty sure I've made snow forts bigger than these two camel humps. More than that, they (and the area between them) are only feet away from the Ka'baa, covered in marble that have cold water pipes pumped underneeth to cool the floor from the heat, and they are indoors and air conditioned. There are two sets of green lights for about twenty steps (thirty for you shorter people) where you are supposed to jog across, and there are nice tiles so your toes can grab when you go up the slight inclines that they call mountains (I'm serious I had to have ridden my bicycle over ramps bigger than those mountains).

 

After that, there was a dude with a garbage can and a pair of scissors who trimmed my hair a bit and I was done in between the Asr and Magrib prayers. After that we went to a Desi resturaunt (see, Indo=Pakastani) and had some awesome spicy chicken and Daal and Naan.

 

Okay, that was my Umrah. Peace.

-- Bill,

Jumping through the hoops

Getting into Saudi is an OMG-oh-Lord-have-mercy-on-my-soul situation. A few months back, when we started this whole thing, I came across this dude`s blog who said `getting into heaven is easier than getting into Saudi`. Okay, I thought this was funny but, umm, heretic borderline maybe! LOL. So I was a bit conscious of laughing at this joke. Now that Bill is done with his part (he got his Iqama today. YAY), I can`t get that line out of my head. I feel like there are so many hoops you`ve got to jump through and some of those hoops are all tangled or broken and you don`t get to see them until you are right there facing them. Well, what do I mean? Poor Bill has been racing against time, getting everything done. I have everything I could`ve done on my end. I thought I did all the research I needed. There is a medical report I need to do for me and the cats, and both are time sensitive. Sounds odd putting it like that doesn`t it? Medical report for me and the cats… Anywho, I couldn`t do these reports till Bill was settled. Well today, I`m trying to forward everything within this week, I call the embassy, of course no answer. So I decided to call a travel agency. Umm, the visa process takes 30-45 days. Why??????? And more importantly, why is it not on the website? Back in August, Bill got his visa within the day. Now, as of September, 2011 it takes 30-45 days. Why?!!!!! It`s not like I could’ve done anything about it. I think we just would not have gotten our hopes up for nothing. I was expeting to be there by next week, maybe week after that… Ya try a month now!

So what do I need?
1. Visa application form (Typed out or block letter written).
2. Two (2) recent passport size photographs (4 cm x 6 cm) taken against a plain white background attached to the application form (must write name on back) and the medical form.

3. A valid passport for at least six months from the application date and must have the place of birth and two blank pages side by side (Original Only). If family accompanying on the same passport, pictures and names of all members must be added on the passport by the proper legal authorities.
4. Proof of relationship to the sponsor (a marriage certificate for a wife and a birth certificate for a child indicating name of both parents (Copy Only))
5. Non-Canadian applicants must submit a valid residency permit (permanent resident card). (Send only copy of front and back of the Permanent Residency (PR) card)
6. Copy of POLIO immunization record for children under the age of 15.
7. Copy of Residency permit of the sponsor (IQAMA) and a Letter from the sponsor indicating the authorization number , the date and the names of applicants.
8. For residency visa applicants over 16 years old, must provide:

a) Completed medical report form and all test results. NOTE: YOUR PHYSICIAN MUST USE A CHECK MARK FOR POSITIVE RESULTS OR A CHECK MARK FOR NEGATIVE RESULTS. The report MUST be certified by college of physicians (see our legalization section #5) of the issuing province (Original Only). You MUST confirm with your doctor that you have all required test results INCLUDING (HIV, Syphilis, Hepatitis B and C - please attach these result pages to the back of the medical report). If any of the 4 results are positive+, your doctor must provide a typed explanation of why they are positive. (If medical report is done outside of Canada, it must be authenticated by the Saudi Arabian Embassy in that country. If the medical report is issued in Saudi Arabia it must be authenticated by The Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Saudi Arabia).

b) Police clearance report (Original Only) 9 A copy of airline reservation must be submitted along with the application (proof of purchase not necessary).
10. If applicant is female and 18 years of age or older, and going under her father's Iqama - she must submit a letter stating that she is single.

http://www.visaenterprise.com/requirementsNew.php?destination=Saudi-Arabia

-- Warda

Day 31 - 1 October 2011

I walked about six miles today, more than half of that in the heat (figure about 10 kilometers). I walked past lots of cars left outside of stores, still running but no one inside. I thought, "That's bad for the environment, but wow, the amount of saftey that everyone here feels, the fact that women can walk alone at 2AM without being harassed, the fact that cars can be left unattended and not a penny will be stolen, what a great place...

... Then some jackass pops his SUV on the curb of the sidewalk and drives right towards me to get around a little bit of traffic.

FML.
-- Bill,

Day 27 - September 28, 2011

I wonder if that whole "Mayan calendar, end-of-the-world" thingy is just in the America's? Whew! Sure dodged that bullett by moving to Saudi... LOSERS!!!

Okay, all kidding aside. Got paid today. It is such a good feeling, you know, getting paid. It's like, "Hey man, I know we beat the snot out of ya' and dragged ya through the mud, but here's a couple of bucks to tide you over. Go get yourself cleaned-up." Whatever, I got paid, yo!

I was told that I'd get my Iqama today. Heh heh, just the fact that I was told that I would get it today should have been a clear message that I would NOT get it today. I.B.M. That is that accronym that you have to remember in Saudi. It stands for the following:

I = Insha-Allah (God-willing you will get it tomorrow)

When that doesn't happen...

B = Bookrah (Tomorrow, come back tomorrow)

When THAT doesn't happen...

M = Ma salaat (After the next prayer)

When that, too, fails, get yer fightin' gloves on, cause it's gonna get messy.

So yeah, remember I.B.M., it is more than a forgotten computer company, it's a Saudi way of life. I was supposed to get paid four days ago, mind you. Once I get that Iqama, though, I actually become a real boy, just like Pinocchio. I kind of feel bad bringing her over, though. I mean, right now she's living the life with her mom and siblings, chilling in her home town, driving my car around, bumming money from the folks, just doing whatever. Guess what babe, things are about to change.

She's about to have to live in a huge apartment (much smaller than her house, though) where we have only one air-conditioner. Sleep on a single bed, for at least a month when I can get paid again. Eat food that we can make with hot water or in a rice-cooker. Clean the rest of this apartment with me. Start working again (heh heh, she thinks it's going to be easy working with these savages that Saudi's call children).

Oh yeah, things are about to change.

Message to my honey:

|Dear Wifey,
I am so sorry, in advance, about the COMPLETE change of life-style that you are about to face here. The last time you were in Jeddah you were just a kid, now you are all grown-up and you don't get to be the bad kid anymore, you get to babysit the bad kids. Every single one of these evil little devil-children will remind you of just how bad you were as a little girl, and maybe you will realize that karma really is a B%&@#. When you are not eating rice and grape leaves (for this first month), or some Ramen-noodle wanna-be, or flavorless, soul-sucking oatmeal, you may eat the one-Riyal falafals 'till you burst. Enjoy the cold showers (great during the day but not so much fun during the night) untill we get that hot water heater. Enjoy pouring your every drop of water from a jug that I bought down the street. Oh, have fun talking to our haris, who hates me! But fret not, my darling, for you have the next month to look forward to, when, Insha-Allah we will BOTH be getting paid, and then Bookrah we will have more money, and then Ma salaat we will have a better life. Just one looong, arduous, indignant, month. I love you, sweety.
-- Bill,

Day 21 - 22 September

Holy crap!! I've been here for three weeks now. (Editor's note: holy crap is either from the holy cow or the holy mackerel. It is assumed that the holy cow is the more likely suspect, as mackerel crap is really small, but studies continue).

 

Yesterday I decided to expand from my one room w/ bathroom into my much larger home... but it needs to be cleaned. I also wanted to clean the bathroom right next to the room in which I typically reside. However, I would need to seal off the light socket to avoid electrocution, and in the other rooms I would need to seal off the hole in the wall meant for the air conditioners (or more dust would continue to enter). For any project from this point on, I would require plastic garbage bags and (the American dream) duct tape!!

 

Ooooh, duct tape.

 

I walked to the nearest store to get my supplies. The garbage bags were easy, unfortunately I couldn't find duct tape, or any other kind of tape for that matter. Seriously, not even Scotch tape. What the heck? This would prove to be problematic as I do not know the word for tape in either Arabic or Bangla. Seriously, my Arabic is horrible, and what little Arabic that I do know is almost useless as there are few Saudis in Jeddah and this city, therefore, has a ridiculous slang. Case-in-point, "maa" is the Arabic word for water, but in Jeddah, all the foreigners say "moyah". What the hell is that? What's moyah? Ang God forbid I say maa' because they will look at me like I grew a second cranium. Even a simple word like "yes", they find a way to screw that up. The Arabic word for yes is "na'am", but not in Jeddah. Here they say "Aiwah"; are you friggin' kidding me? It's bad enough that I have to master my Arabic conversationally, but learning this slang to survive is like having to learn two separate languages on-the-spot.

 

Actually, I've been cheating a lot because I am fairly conversational in Bangla, and there are a LOT of Bangladeshi's here in Jeddah (I think they've been messing up the Arabic on me...). Anyway, knowing Bangla didn't help me a lick because I don't know the word for tape in Bangla. How the heck do you describe tape here? Or anywhere? Go ahead, stop reading this for a moment and think about how you would describe tape to someone who doesn't understand English. Now up the ante a bit and try explaining "duct tape" of all things.

 

What's that, you sympathize with me now?

 

Okay, so I grab this Bangladeshi guy (no really) I grabbed his shoulder and walked him with me) and showed him a tube of glue. I said (in English) "glue" and then I touched my index finger and thumb together quickly and slowly pulled them apart and said "sticky". So far he's with me. Then I put my index fingers and thumbs from both hands together and slowly pulled them apart and said "tape" and made a sticking motion with the phantom tape.

 

I must have grown a second cranium right there because I knew that confused look.

 

He tried walking away but I grabbed him again (I'm very hands-on) and I did the motions again. He was about to walk and then he stopped. I swear to God All-mighty that I saw a friggin' lightbulb pop over this dudes head when he ran over and pointed to a whole box full of masking tape and duct tape. Wow, good thing I had all that practice playing "Itsy-bitsy Spider" growing-up. I got lucky that there was duct tape there because I couldn't imagine going through that process again for the gray stuff, but I guess God had enough fun laughing at my expense for the day.

 

With this great feat I needed a nap. Later I went out and got two sconces (probably misspelled, but they are the lights that you can put on a wall). I also got some silicone and the gun to use it, a couple of curtain rods, a few towel racks, too. The problem is that I don't have a drill. Yeah, I remembered that I actually need to have a drill for all my concrete walls or my screws and nails ain't going nowhere. Meh, if I can't borrow one then I'll just buy one, whatever. This place is coming along just fine.

-- Bill,

Back in Action

As you have noticed, I have been missing in action, MIA, while Bill has been posting away. Well, I`m not in Saudi yet. I am currently happily residing (stuck) in Toronto. In truth though, separation has been hard and Skype has been a blessing. We talk every day, for several hours mostly. But of course it is never enough. Other than that, I have been enjoying a needed quality time with my family.

I play chauffeur most of the time. I also go to the gym. I considered working here in Toronto while waiting for the Iqama, but I just feel too weird about starting working for someone and then leaving them in a month or two. Just seems dishonest. Bill says that I could be there in a little over a month. So I am praying for that.

Bagel and Angelo, our cats, have adjusted really well to the move from Jersey. They`re chilling with my family. Bagel, the older cat, I believe is harbouring some resentment towards me. Home girl was my buddy before, and now she won`t even come to me or cuddle with me. But no…. She is super friendly with everyone else at home. Ughh! Bill believes that the cat thinks I killed him and stuck his voice in a box, (the computer). LOL. Well, I`m hoping that the move to Saudi won’t be too hard on them. The process to get them there is a mission and half. I`ll keep you guys updated on that.

Ta ta for now.

--Warda

Day... Something

Sorry, been a bit neglectful of this journal.

Okay, I'm just getting over the flu. Yeah, that little influenza mother (cencered) exists here, too. Some little kid sneezed directly in my left eye as I turned to look at him. His survival is proof of my kindness to children. Meanwhile, I went to work yesterday despite my illness and I realized for the first time that school halls in Jeddah are much like the halls in Jersey, that is to say, very spacious. It was for this reason that I was able to lean against the wall as I walked. A really cool difference between the walls in Jersey verses Jeddah is that our walls are concrete, and thus, very cool. Teacher and child alike cast odd looks at the tall bearded white man leaning his sweaty forehead against the cool, concrete walls, talking to the walls as if they were alive, in fact, thanking the walls for being so cool to the touch.

"Oh yes wall, only you understand the pain that I am in."

Still, I am one tough s.o.b., so I pushed through all of my classes without having to yell once, because I used my hate-filled look of promised death on my students. Promised death, that is, because it would be a while before I could cash in on that death, I was way too sick to properly beat one of these crazy kids at the time; they run fast. Eight periods in the work day and the seventh period was my last on duty. So I grab my giant sized 2.5 litre bottle of 7up and head for the most comfortable chair in the teachers room. On my way, I feel this strange tugging on my left arm. I'm really knowledgeable, but my mind was sluggish, so at first I thought that I might be having a heart-attack. Me? I'm the epitome of good health (minus the flu). I reassesed and looked down and realized that it was not a heart-attack, but rather, it was a second-grader.

Yeah, there was a second-grader who intercepted me coming from my third-grade class, holding my 7up bottle with a two-fisted deathlock. Dude, this kid was strong, like he had the G.I. Joe kung-fu grip!! I say, "What the hell?" (I am a teacher, I never said I was a good teacher. Besides, this little runt wasn't my student... so screw im') He says, "Teacher! I want seven." Processing the events as they unfold, I understand that this kid wants my soda. "Teacher! Teacher! I want seven!"

Man, these little Saudi kids are so freakin' spoiled that they don't understand the idea that wanting is not enough to warrent getting. My response is neither educating nor kind when I say, "And?" The kid doesn't get it. He looks at me like I just slapped his mother and repeates himself again, "Teacher! I want seven!" I do a quick visual check to ensure that this kid isn't packing heat, because I'm from Jersey and I figure that this kid might pull a pistol and just flat-out mug me in the hallway. The kid's clean though, so I get a little braver and I say, "Boy. If you don't get yer hands off my soda then I'm going to rain a whole world of pain on yer fuzzy little head."

Some English translates better than others... he let go.

I can never believe all the stories that I hear about the kids RULING Saudi. Man, I remember my father walking into the house when I was three. We were living in Keansburg and he left before I woke-up and he came home kind of late, too late to watch my cartoons with me. This one time he came home and said, "I have something for you." Well, since he wasn't taking off his belt when he said it I figured that it wasn't a beating so I was naturally curious. He told me this story about him meeting Spider-man on the way home from work and getting into a fight with him and beating him up. Okay, Spidy was my hero and you're beating him up, way to make me endeared to you dad, can't wait to see where you take this story. So he tells me that he promised to let Spider-man go if he gave my father one of his gloves. So dad pulls this cheap plastic glove from behind his back and hands it to me. It was obviously a poorly manufactured marketing product with that crappy paint on that back (the kind that peels off the second you crinkle it) in a faximilated Spider-man pattern.

Hey, it was a toy and it was for me and I wasn't expecting it. From that point on I figured that there was no earthly reason for dad to leave the house other than to bring me gifts, just like that little Saudi kid. The difference was that I grew out of it the very next day when pops came home and my dumb ass asked, "So dad, what'd you get me today?" I remember running very near the speed of light in the opposite direction of my fathers shouting that I was an ungrateful little something or other. Maybe my threat to that little Saudi kid, yesterday, had a similar effect on his maturity.

Maybe I'm not such a bad teacher after all. I should start beating my students...
-- Bill,