I referred in the first extraction post to the bureaucratic
minutiae associated with leaving. Saudi Arabia does not permit free movement of
people in, out, or even within its borders.
Every non-Saudi must have a sponsor. For example, Upul’s
sponsor is a Canadian family who lives on camp. In addition to his salary, they
pay the renewal fees for his visa and iqama (residence permit) and give him
money to travel home once a year. When a sponsor brings someone into the
Kingdom, the sponsor (an individual or a company) also has to pay an initial
fee to the Saudi government of around SAR 10,000-20,000. The army of small
brown men who clean, sweep, mow, drive, etc. are sponsored in bulk by Saudi
middlemen who “sell” them to contractors. It’s nothing more than slavery thinly
disguised as these poor guys often have to work off the sponsorship fees. Hard
to do when you only make SAR 200 a month (about USD 50). Their sponsors hold
their iqamas and passports so they can’t even look for a better job (a slave
isn’t supposed to be able to shop around for a nicer master, right?). But back
to the point, Aramco is my sponsor. And even though I hold my passport and
iqama, I can’t just waltz out of here when I choose.
One important thing that will happen is that eventually I will
be issued an exit-only visa. These have a mythical air about them, becoming a
metaphor for all sorts of things to an expat leaving Saudi Arabia.
In order to obtain that magical exit-only visa, there are
dozens of hoops I must jump through. Some are silly (turn in my recreation
library card; no need to clear fines since Aramco started doing payroll
deduction for those a couple of years ago). Some are more difficult (selling my
car, which will require paying a middleman to handle the paperwork for me, assuming of course I find a buyer).
The Dollar/Pound Sterling Payroll team in HR put together a
departure booklet. Being the nerd that I am, I decided to turn the booklet into
a checklist and assign deadlines for each specific task.
I quickly realized that I had to start at the end by
defining my last day of work and my departure date. You can’t pick any old date
to leave. It shouldn’t be on or around a holiday. It should be a date after
Payroll closes for the month, assuming that your final clearance is approved by
that closing date. It must be a regular work day, not the weekend. And since
I’m flying with the dogs and cats, I will only fly KLM and they don’t fly from
Dammam to the U.S. every day of the week. Getting the proper clearances for the
dogs and cats can’t be done sooner than two days before the day that I leave so
I have to make sure I make enough time for that (I’ll discuss the dog and cat
departure saga in a future post). After spending a few days researching all of
this, I finally identified those dates, last day of work and departure date
(they will be the same day, in fact).
Then I started working back in time, listing all of the
tasks that I needed to complete. Right now I’ve got over 40 distinct tasks
listed and I’m adding more every day or so. For example, I remembered before I
left on my trip to the US that the airlines require animals to have
vaccinations at least 30 days before travel. Unfortunately, the entire CircusK9
pack is due for everything in Q1 so they all have to have shots at least one
month before I leave. I stagger the dog’s shots, separating rabies from their
other shots by a couple of weeks. Even if I take the animals into the vet in groups,
I need to schedule three to five vet visits. More tasks added to the list.
I had my exit meeting with a Dollar Payroll advisor this
morning. I was appalled at the amount of paperwork he loaded me down with—and the
accompanying increase in the number of tasks on my checklist. So tonight after
cats were fed and dogs were walked and fed, I spread out a mass of papers and
opened a handful of websites and supporting files on my computer, getting ready
to call Vanguard….doh! It’s Sunday!
I’m completely stressed. I wake up at night and start
thinking about all the things I need to do and I end up tossing and turning for
hours (doesn’t help that I’m still jetlagged from my US trip). I am worried and
anxious. I feel like I’m stepping off a cliff. Some of you may think that
leaving the US would have been difficult. I assure you that leaving KSA is far
more so.
1 comment:
This just sounds horrific! I don't envy you.
Suggestion: I once managed a database conversion that kept me up at night worrying. I started keeping a yellow legal pad and pen on my night stand. When something worried me, I'd write it down so I could deal with it in the daylight. Once it was written down, I could simply move onto worrying about the next thing!
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