When You Look Like Your Passport Photo, It's Time to Go Home

Erma Bombeck wrote a book entitled, "When You Look Like Your Passport Photo, It's Time to Go Home."  John asked me to get our passport photos out this morning before we went to the visa office.  As I began cutting up the little "Pams" and "Johns" I thought, "I think I look pretty good…"  Either that's a testament to the photographer who took them OR I am looking really busted right now in Egypt.  Ha.

We gathered all our papers in preparation for a trip to the government office to request long term visas.  We tried to anticipate everything they could ask, but this was our first trip to this particular office so we weren't sure what to expect.

John called Sadik and he arrived cheerful and ready for another adventure with the crazy foreigners (our words, not his).  John began to explain to him the office that we needed, but Sadik didn't understand.  We drove for a while while John and I inserted hand gestures, props and all Arabic words to convey the thought.  Still unclear, Sadik stopped in front of a large government building and flagged someone over.  John introduced himself and started the explanation again.  Seeing something interesting, another man stopped to find out what was going on.  Soon a soldier (with an AK-47? held casually in his hand) appeared.  

They all agreed that John and I needed to go to the second floor of this particular building, but first he should walk to a small shop to the left and get copies made of our passports.  John thanked them all and they disbursed.

He went to make copies and I spotted a dukon (small store) carrying some items that I wanted.  I ran and picked up the groceries while Sadik tried to keep an eye on John in line and myself at the cashier.  Sadik approved of the price I paid and we returned to the car until John was ready.

John and I took our copies and made our way up to the second floor.  We walked through groups of men all trying to secure some time of government form.  The crowds would part as we walked by because 1) we were foreigners and 2) I was a woman.  

We got to the correct office (we thought) and looked around.  It was full of little windows like at a bank and had lines of people at each one.   A tiny little lady with a big smile greeted us and told us to go to Window 11.  I guess it's obvious why we're there.

Sure enough the window had a sign that said, "Touristic Visas" and "Resident Visas."  Bingo.  Another lady greeted us and asked us what we wanted.  We had to speak through a window with a cutout and John began to explain that we would like a 1 year visa.  She asked some questions and after a bit of trial and error figured out what we wanted.

She told us the amount of the visas and pointed to chairs for us to sit.  We would get our visas today?!  That's amazing.  In S*dan, it was quite the long, drawn out affair…expensive too.  I wasn't sure I believed it could be this simple.

We sat and waited.  Men were everywhere so I tried my best to keep my eyes toward the floor.  A couple walked in and sat across from us.  The man had a beard dyed red which meant he had just returned from hajj  (religious pilgrimage in Saudi Arabia) and was dressed conservatively.  His wife was dressed in black complete with a naqab (full face veil).  I smiled at the woman, but was shocked when she replied in perfect American English, "Do you have a pen we can borrow?"  John gave her husband one.

I was still trying to figure all this out when the lady from Window 11 called us over.  Our visas were ready, but she needed copies of them.  That was our job.  She told John to go downstairs and get copies and return.  We assured her we would complete the assignment post haste.

John went to the copy shop and I went to the car where a nervous Sadik waited for us.  He was so relieved when I told him that we had been successful.  He smiled broadly and told me that he was happy because he was leaving for Cairo tomorrow for a week's vacation and wanted to see us again.  

With copies in hand, John ran back up to the office to drop them off.  He returned a few minutes later and said while he was waiting he talked some more with the couple from America.  They had just arrived from Boston and were visiting a friend.  I wondered if it wasn't the same friend we had made earlier named Hussein.  I'm sure we'll see them again.  Even though this town is good size, everyone has to use the same offices, stores, etc.  

John held up 2 brand new visas to Selah and said, "We can stay for 6 more months!"  We found out you can repeat 6 month visas much more easily than 1 year.  Woot!  

This is a big moment.  This means that John can now go retrieve our luggage in storage in Kenya.  It also means that I should go ahead and invest in a can opener for this country.

Following our visa success, we were able to locate a new hose and bearings for the air cooler, a mixing bowl and airtime our cell phones.  Some days are mountain tops and others are valleys.  
Today we returned to the flat, grateful for Sadik, the lady at Window 11 and the other Egyptian people who helped us all along the way.

I poured us each a glass of John's special blend iced tea and toasted our success.  As I put our extra passport photos back in the folder, I looked again at our faces.  Erma Bombeck may be right, but today those awkward, smiling faces are happy to have a place to call home.

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