The Mute Herald

This is my first “I haven’t posted in a while because…” post, and I’m sure there’s more to follow. Well, I haven’t posted in a while because I was a bit under the weather and generally busy.  So in true Lifehacker style here’s a roundup of what happened this past week or so.

Last Saturday my wife took her RTA driving test.  The real thing, not the assessments / mock that driving schools put you through and on the basis of which subject you to further lessons.  Long story short she didn’t pass.  Not being there in the car with her I will stop short from saying that the examiner was at fault.  It is however very commonly heard that very able drivers are still failed and only manage to get their license after two or three attempts.

On the day I dropped her off at the driving school and, anticipating a very long wait (it turned out to be over 3 hours), I headed over to Times Square where I planted myself in Caribou Coffee and pretended to look busy on the laptop.  I enjoy doing this from time to time (wife permitting) – sitting unnoticed in a corner, just watchig people pass by, trying to guess what people do and if they are regulars. 

One such instance:  A couple of ladies strolled in, one behind an empty pushchair, the other (very visibly pregnant) holding an infant.  They were greeted warmly by the staff behind the counter, as always happens, and the manager (or so I assumed due to his lack of uniform and previous shuffling of papers) did the baby-talk thing and held out his arms.  The mother without any hesitation whatsoever obliged and handed over the package, to the delight of said manager.  He went on to croon and entertain the kid, going over to show him off to the other staff. They spent a good five minutes enjoying the baby’s laughter, after which it was duly returned to the mom. 

Now this is what surprised me – in this day and age of H’s and N’s, airport infrared checks, pandemic alerts, campaigns advocating less contact with strangers and fear of the almighty germ, this lady trusted her most precious possession in the hands of a stranger.  Granted, she could have been a regular and known the manager for a long time.  Also granted, working in a food preparation environment one expects a certain level of hygiene.  But still.  I doubt that I could have done the same thing.  It shocked me in a truly positive way, and left me feeling upbeat. Until I learned of my wife’s exam outcome of course.

On Thursday I had my first serious near-crash experience, through no fault of my own.  I was at the exit from Emirates road going to Qusais waiting for lights to change, when I see a Prado coming up fast behind me.  It skidded, missed me by an inch and ended up beside my car.  Don’t know if the skid took the Prado to the side or the driver’s skill.  These are the things that one risks on the roads of Dubai I guess.

Friday saw us meet up with a bunch of cool people I speak to on Twitter at Wild Peeta, for a #wildtweetup.  The company was great, met like-minded folk, and the food was brilliantly fresh – both in concept and in preparation.  It was the first time I saw an Emirati (actually two – they’re brothers) running the show AND working behind the counter.  Had a killer breakfast peeta (at 1pm) and a fusion cold green tea / juice comonly known as the Magic Juice.  Now if they can just confirm delivery to my office.

Today my wife’s driving school, Al Ahli in Al Quoz, signed her up for the RTA traffic sign test.  This is a multiple choice answer theoretical test, taken on a PC touchscreen and is over in one minute.  The actual time allocated is one minute per question, ten questions total, but it’s very straightforward and (should) often takes much less time.  A sample of the test is hosted on Emirates Driving Institute website.

My wife was given a study guide by her driving instructor, in preparation for the test.  It is hilarious. Here follow samples of the text within the guide:

Section title: Compulsory Qustions (failed from first mistake)

Q1. Near Schools, hospitals and residential areas driver SHOULD NOT USE?

A. UNNECESSARILY HORN so they don’t disturb the public

Q3. When you face the school bus using STOP SIGN, what should you do?

A. Come to a COMPLETE STOP and let the children cross road

Q4. On the CONJESTED JUNCTIONS the moment signal turns GREEN, What should you do?

A. DO NOT ENTER THE YELLOW area unless your path is CLEAR

Q5. When you see a car running with HAZARD LIGHT IN, what should you do?

A. Access the RIGHT most lane.

Q8. When the STOP sign is seen, what should be the driver do?

A. Make a complete STOP, make sure the road is COMPLETELY CLEAR and then enter the road.

Section title: Non-Compulsory Qustions (Failed from the third mistake)

Q4. If a driver is driving at speed 80km/hr. what should be the HEAD DISTANCE?

A. The head distance SHOULD NOT BE LESS THAN 25 METERS.

Q7. When the driver’s BRAKES FAIL what should he do?

A. Warn other vehicles using HAZARDS LIGHT and putting warning TRIANGULAR SIGN at the back of the car.

(MH: WTF?? My answer would have been: wish he had bought a manual instead of an automatic so he could engine brake.  And how do they propose to put the warning sign at the back of the car while it’s in motion?)

Note: all formatting and spelling copied as is from the leaflet.  I will scan it tomorrow and upload it, but I couldn’t wait.  Handing the copy to a natural English language native / speaker would have produced a more professional result, even without going to the expense of hiring a translator.  I’m sure there are many more instances of this, waiting to be discovered.

Having said all of the above I must praise Al Ahli for the speed with which the process is moving.  My experience was much more frustrating (vide previous posts).

“I need a bigger wallet”, I find myself saying repeatedly (hint).  The various authorities want to give a tangible proof of their service, and the medium of choice is the ID card size (surprise surprise) plastic card.  I’ve posted them below in order of how much red tape I had to wade through to get them.

Driving License

Starting from the fact that one is running around without a car and so every hurdle is automatically bigger, the process in and of itself is still extremely tiresome.  I had to deal with endless desks, repeated visits to the cashier instead of paying everything in one go, each stop characterised by 30 minute queues of sweaty people actually elbowing each other to go first.  Half way through the driving lessons I did a parking test and lessons stopped.  I was put on a waiting list again indefinitely.  I had to pay extra (to upgrade to “VIP” classes), otherwise who knew when I would resume.  In the meantime I was using taxis continuously.  At the end of the lessons the driving school performed an “assessment” during the course of which I was deemed not fit to sit for the final RTA exam and so had to take an extra 4 classes.  This didn’t go down well with me, so I went to the manager’s office.  Having no local help and no immediately-recognisable Western passport I could only manage to reduce them to 2 classes.

On the day of the final test I was told that I passed (hamdulilah) but I had to pick up the license in another 2 days.  At some point in the process, before picking up the license of course, I had to drop by the accountant’s office for him to stamp my papers making sure that I was fully paid up.  There were no clear directions of what you need to do next, you have to ask any passer by who looks like he belongs.  Many times I risked staying behind the wrong door or in the wrong queue.   What a mess.  At least when I went for the license it didn’t take too long, relatively speaking of course.

When I walked out of the school holding the prized license I could have sworn that I wasn’t leaving any footprints.  Climbing into the taxi I said to myself, last time I’m riding one of these.  I was very wrong of course, but I was happy in my self-delusion.

ID Card

It was (still is) hailed as one of the least organized public exercises in Dubai history (and it is not over yet), and many people couldn’t care less about the brand new UAE ID card.  It was touted as the magna carda of cards, one card to rule them all and in darkness bind them.  Every interaction with public administration would be governed by this card, and any other form of identification would not be accepted.  Who would have foreseen that one of the big companies (memory fails me: Du?) refused to accept it.

Still relatively fresh on the scene I did my best to have the ID card issued as soon as possible.  I dreaded the thought of having to spend a couple of days running around a municipality complex looking for the right desk after being denied the facility to pay a bill.

By that time my wife had joined me and just finalised her residence visa, so I figured we’d do both together.  Us being us we left it a bit late, so we went a week before the “deadline” was due.  We arrived at the Rashidiya office at around 7.30 a.m., only to be told by the security guard that they were not admitting anybody else because the quota was reached.  The quota, reached, before 7.30.

The following day we woke up at 5 (having returned from work at midnight), and arrived just after 6 a.m.  There already was a sizeable queue.  Two actually, and we found out that they separated ladies from gents.  It is normal practice in the Emirates, as you wouldn’t want unwed members of the opposite sex accidentally (or not) rubbing against each other.  By that time people were talking, the quota was known, and we should have been ok.  We were.  Still we were towards the end, so we wouldn’t be due to be served in a while.

Once inside (oh yes I forgot – the queues were outside on the pavement, going in opposite directions) the friendly receptionist informed me that, sorry, bank cards were not an accepted method of payment, so I had to locate an ATM in an unfamiliar area to win some jackpot.  Back in the freezing building and the minutes were having a chat and ticking away slowly.  We were prepared for this, and both of us brought books, but there is only so much reading you can do.

Wife finished first, as the quota for ladies was lower and the process seemed faster for them.  For myself it was much slower than we had thought, and we had an appointment coming with an estate agent as we were about to move house.  We decided to risk it and dashed out to meet him.  We returned just as my number was being called and the clerk was looking around irritably.  I went in and the Emirati photographer greeted me with the customary Salam alik.  I was still flustered by the dash so I absent mindedly replied Hi.  He was having none of it, and went on to explain how to reply to a proper greeting in Arabic.  I knew of course, but I obliged, not wanting to anger him further.  The process went on without further incident, finger prints, hand prints, retina scan, urine sample, blood sample, hair sample, teeth mold and voice signature.  I’m joking, we didn’t sing.

Health Card

Looking back I realise that the health card was not such a big deal.  But it was the first card you have to earn, and so there was the element of discovery slowing down the process.

The paperwork was done by the HR, I just had to go to the appointed clinic for the medical exam.  Off I went, and for once the taxi driver knew exactly where.  The doctor I had spoken to was there, but the x-ray machine was down for maintenance.  So we did everything else and I just had to come after two days.  That I did, but I discovered that once taxis drop you off they have no real reason to linger, so I walked for 45 mintues (11 o’clock sun, October, not nice) before I could catch one.  I tried calling the operator for a taxi, but they were telling me sorry sir, busy, 1 hour, etc.  I’m not one for sitting around waiting.

Second time I went I thought ahead and booked a taxi to pick me up after 30 mins.  The rest was through the office, so all was well.

Labour Card

I honestly do not remember what I went through, if anything at all, to get the labour card.  So presumably it was also done through the office. I must be forgiven for not having any details, I am normally forgetful, and besides the other events that happened in the mean time pushed the little insignificant things out of the way.

Sorry.

And last but not least:

Vehicle Ownership Card

This one carried the least hassle with it, as it was handed to me with the new car.  It represents ownership of the said vehicle, which purpose back in Malta is served by a registration booklet which one doesn’t need to keep carrying around.