Come on Iqama/Visa!

Oh, the joys of waiting in line for 2 hours, having blood drawn and being yelled, yes yelled at and herded like cattle from one point to the next. What a glorious way to spend one's morning. Where is this at you ask? Ahhh, the local Medical Office where one has to go through prison situation rigors to be approved for a visa. Now, don't get me wrong, I am happy and thankful that I have the opportunity to get a visa and this was a one time (Insha Allah) appointment. It actually reminds me now, thinking back, to when I was in the Army, many years ago, and we had weekend drills. The difference here is the people, prodding, yelling and bossing are Muslim and as I am standing in line to get my chest X-rayed, after having to strip from my hijab and wear a hospital gown, I am thinking, "Would the Prophet (SAWS) have put people through this?" I know the Sahaba suffered, that we can't even fathom what they went through and it really makes me realize how weak I REALLY am and how the systems ran by man are so imperfect and even unfeeling. Am I venting? Maybe a bit, more than a bit? I am still thankful to be here and I hope the humiliation of this day was worth it, Insha Allah. Did I mention to take money with you? Yes, I learned this today. What was I thinking, going without cash? Everywhere has an ATM right? Uh, no. So when my turn FINALLY is over at the first window, before they begin the battery of tests I am told it costs 100 riyals which is the equivalent of around $30. Do you take the card? No. But I can go to the 'patrol' station and get cash. Okay, as she points around the building. And so I begin to walk. Where do I go? Uh, yeah, to the men's side, not knowing any better and feeling my heart squeezed in frustration and embarrassment as the men are looking at why this woman is on our side of the building! Felt like vomiting at this point. So I ask security where is the 'patrol' station, he points around to the side of the building and says not one here, you have to walk to the PETROL station. Oooooh, now the light goes on. How far is the Petrol Station? About 1/2 a mile away, along the freeway, my driver has left until I call to come back and so I am hiking along the freeway in about 100 degree weather in ALL black to the Petrol Station to get my blankety blank $$$!

As cars are whizzing by and honking, men yelling out the window at the woman on the side of the road by herself, walking, I again, want to vomit. Insha Allah, this will all be worth it at some point. So get the cash go back give it to the lady and the TESTS begin...

I already explained those and when I am finished I am thinking of my 4 daughters, will they have to go through this I ask a woman? Alhamdullilah, no, just bring the passports and you will be stamped in your book and they dont even have to come. Alhamdullilah. I am wondering is it like this in every country, this procedure? I know they are trying to protect the people in the country from outside diseases and other matters, but sheesh its made so much harder than it has to be. Why do us humans have to complicate every aspect of life? I am thinking of a word here, oh yeah, Qadar. I know tie your camel, take the precautions...

Ok, so I finally get done and the driver decided that it takes too long at the Medical Clinic so he dropped me at the beginning and tells me to call when I am done. I am DONE! And another hour for him to drive back and come pick me up as I sit outside in the wonderful heat of the day. Alhamdullilah, I make it home and it feels like I have been gone for an entire week! Did I mention that I had to get up at 5am? And got back around 11:30? Sigh, I am home now, so thankful that that was supposed to be a one time ordeal and to see my children so happy that mommy is home and experiences like this make you so appreciative of the confines of your home and how much we take our time and freedom(s) for granted...

Not complaining, just sharing an experience.