Not only to I now have my residence permit and my US passport safely back in my possession, I am also a legal driver in Qatar!
Believe me, this is a definite reason for celebration. And cause for a deep sigh of relief. I have been driving since we arrived, but since I didn't have my residence permit yet, I was driving quasi-legally and couldn't actually get a Qatari license until I had my RP anyway. Then I got it, hurray, and decided it was time to actually get legal, a decision propelled along more quickly by the husband hearing that if I were to get into an accident while a legal resident but without a legal license, I could be put in prison for three months. Gulp! This may or may not be true (it's hard to tell the difference between rumor and truth here at times, but assuming the worst is true is a good place to start!), but it was the motivation I needed to get serious. The process is grueling for Americans: eye test, written exam, and driving road test (the rumor in this case is that some member of Qatari royalty was forced to take a road test while living in the States and so now all Americans must do this though residents of other Western countries do not). Most people flunk one of these tests at least once, usually more. Okay, let's go!
First step, an eye exam. The husband had his exam done at the driving school behind our house so I went there yesterday...and the exam place was closed. Will it be open today? No, closed today. Will it be open tomorrow? Maybe. Umm, okay, thanks. Any optician, any optical clinic, any one. You go there. Again, thanks. At this point, it was almost 8 and very few businesses in Qatar open before 10. But, on the off chance that I could find an open place, I went to the nearest mall (there are a million malls here). And I did find one, that opened at 9. I needed to be back to pick up E at 10 so I figured IF they opened on time, and IF they did the right exam, and IF it was quick, I could be done in time to go pick him up 20 minutes away--a lot of ifs, which often don't turn out the way we want in Doha. BUT, miraculously, they did open on time, the doctor was only five minutes late, and the exam took three minutes (I passed), so I was on the road and early to get E.
Buoyed by my success, I decided to take E with me back to the driving school to schedule my "theory" exam, a computer test on traffic signals and road signs. They directed me to the traffic department next door...which was closed, lights off, at 11am, for no apparent reason. Again, no reason why, though I was gratified to see a Qatari man there banging on the same door I had peered through, and he was even more upset than I was, so at least there wasn't some obscure holiday I didn't know about happening. Small consolation, but consolation nonetheless.
So I decided to head to the main traffic department and try there, only I didn't really know where it was. But hey, I was having a pretty good day so far, with the lucky eye exam break, so I decided to press my luck. After a 45 minute search involving lots of directions from a very helpful Arabic man with very little English, I finally found the place and parked in the basement. I had a thought as I pulled in next to multiple police vehicles that perhaps coming here while driving illegally was a bit like entering the belly of the beast but it was too late. Off we tromped, E carrying his lunchbox and me trying to navigate the labyrinth inside. I was directed to reception, where there were many tellers with long lines but after waiting in one for a few minutes, the teller next to me pushed his whole line (of men) backwards and motioned me over. Sometimes the public deference paid to women here is every convenient! He sent me to desk 33, but the two women in abayas told me after looking at my paperwork that I was "not allowed." Turns out the tests I needed to take are only offered at driving schools, but I had already been told during my earlier visit to our closest driving school that the tests would only happen next Sunday at 6am and the following Tuesday...maybe. So, I gave up for the day, since it was already time to go pick up J at school (and I had gotten sick somewhere in there on the way to pick him up and spent some time on the bathroom floor at the contemporary art museum while E drew pictures and waited very patiently) and I was past done.
Frankly, it ended up being quite the demoralizing day. However, undaunted, I did a little research and set out the next day after I dropped the kids off at school for another driving school recommended by some folks in the ward (thanks ladies!). I wandered around that school and was directed across the parking lot to the traffic department testing area, where I was told to pay (again, that's twice now, once for the eye test, once for the theory test). I waited an hour and was beginning to despair until someone ushered me into a room full of computers. I was told to walk right past all the computers and look at a poster of road signs on a desk. A Qatari man pointed to four signs, asked me to identify each one, and then signed my paperwork. Okay, strange, but at least I got the test done. I went to another desk and was handed a receipt and sent to yet another desk. Once there, I was a
to pay (again) only this time in cash so I could take my road test right then. Wait, what? I had been told I would have to make an appointment to take that test some time in the future, I wasn't prepared to take it now, nor did I have enough cash to pay for it (cash only, please, though I had paid all the other fees with a debit card) so I wasn't sure what to do. Nearest ATM was at a gas station a block away (which is not as close as it sounds). Fortunately, I had shared my test prep book with the other woman there taking the test with me and her husband, Omar, volunteered to take me to the ATM since he had to go, too. They were American, from DC, so I said sure and headed off with thisstranger new friend, and we quickly got the right amount of cash. As soon as we got back and paid, the wife and I got in a car with the road test instructor. I drove (on completely unfamiliar roads, by the way) for 5 minutes with the instructor barking "left," "right," "left" with no warning. It was very disconcerting and more than a little be tense! The other woman drove for 10 minutes and then we were back to the facility. The instructor marched off without a word and we waited...a few more minutes...and then someone else appeared and sent us to yet another desk where we were asked to pay (again). And then they handed me my license!
What the what? was the husband's reaction. Mine, too. I have no idea why the process moved so quickly this morning (things basically only move at one speed here: confusingly slow) or why I was able to complete everything in less than 24 hours. Confusingly quick is better than confusingly slow any day!
Believe me, this is a definite reason for celebration. And cause for a deep sigh of relief. I have been driving since we arrived, but since I didn't have my residence permit yet, I was driving quasi-legally and couldn't actually get a Qatari license until I had my RP anyway. Then I got it, hurray, and decided it was time to actually get legal, a decision propelled along more quickly by the husband hearing that if I were to get into an accident while a legal resident but without a legal license, I could be put in prison for three months. Gulp! This may or may not be true (it's hard to tell the difference between rumor and truth here at times, but assuming the worst is true is a good place to start!), but it was the motivation I needed to get serious. The process is grueling for Americans: eye test, written exam, and driving road test (the rumor in this case is that some member of Qatari royalty was forced to take a road test while living in the States and so now all Americans must do this though residents of other Western countries do not). Most people flunk one of these tests at least once, usually more. Okay, let's go!
First step, an eye exam. The husband had his exam done at the driving school behind our house so I went there yesterday...and the exam place was closed. Will it be open today? No, closed today. Will it be open tomorrow? Maybe. Umm, okay, thanks. Any optician, any optical clinic, any one. You go there. Again, thanks. At this point, it was almost 8 and very few businesses in Qatar open before 10. But, on the off chance that I could find an open place, I went to the nearest mall (there are a million malls here). And I did find one, that opened at 9. I needed to be back to pick up E at 10 so I figured IF they opened on time, and IF they did the right exam, and IF it was quick, I could be done in time to go pick him up 20 minutes away--a lot of ifs, which often don't turn out the way we want in Doha. BUT, miraculously, they did open on time, the doctor was only five minutes late, and the exam took three minutes (I passed), so I was on the road and early to get E.
Buoyed by my success, I decided to take E with me back to the driving school to schedule my "theory" exam, a computer test on traffic signals and road signs. They directed me to the traffic department next door...which was closed, lights off, at 11am, for no apparent reason. Again, no reason why, though I was gratified to see a Qatari man there banging on the same door I had peered through, and he was even more upset than I was, so at least there wasn't some obscure holiday I didn't know about happening. Small consolation, but consolation nonetheless.
So I decided to head to the main traffic department and try there, only I didn't really know where it was. But hey, I was having a pretty good day so far, with the lucky eye exam break, so I decided to press my luck. After a 45 minute search involving lots of directions from a very helpful Arabic man with very little English, I finally found the place and parked in the basement. I had a thought as I pulled in next to multiple police vehicles that perhaps coming here while driving illegally was a bit like entering the belly of the beast but it was too late. Off we tromped, E carrying his lunchbox and me trying to navigate the labyrinth inside. I was directed to reception, where there were many tellers with long lines but after waiting in one for a few minutes, the teller next to me pushed his whole line (of men) backwards and motioned me over. Sometimes the public deference paid to women here is every convenient! He sent me to desk 33, but the two women in abayas told me after looking at my paperwork that I was "not allowed." Turns out the tests I needed to take are only offered at driving schools, but I had already been told during my earlier visit to our closest driving school that the tests would only happen next Sunday at 6am and the following Tuesday...maybe. So, I gave up for the day, since it was already time to go pick up J at school (and I had gotten sick somewhere in there on the way to pick him up and spent some time on the bathroom floor at the contemporary art museum while E drew pictures and waited very patiently) and I was past done.
Frankly, it ended up being quite the demoralizing day. However, undaunted, I did a little research and set out the next day after I dropped the kids off at school for another driving school recommended by some folks in the ward (thanks ladies!). I wandered around that school and was directed across the parking lot to the traffic department testing area, where I was told to pay (again, that's twice now, once for the eye test, once for the theory test). I waited an hour and was beginning to despair until someone ushered me into a room full of computers. I was told to walk right past all the computers and look at a poster of road signs on a desk. A Qatari man pointed to four signs, asked me to identify each one, and then signed my paperwork. Okay, strange, but at least I got the test done. I went to another desk and was handed a receipt and sent to yet another desk. Once there, I was a
to pay (again) only this time in cash so I could take my road test right then. Wait, what? I had been told I would have to make an appointment to take that test some time in the future, I wasn't prepared to take it now, nor did I have enough cash to pay for it (cash only, please, though I had paid all the other fees with a debit card) so I wasn't sure what to do. Nearest ATM was at a gas station a block away (which is not as close as it sounds). Fortunately, I had shared my test prep book with the other woman there taking the test with me and her husband, Omar, volunteered to take me to the ATM since he had to go, too. They were American, from DC, so I said sure and headed off with this
What the what? was the husband's reaction. Mine, too. I have no idea why the process moved so quickly this morning (things basically only move at one speed here: confusingly slow) or why I was able to complete everything in less than 24 hours. Confusingly quick is better than confusingly slow any day!
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