Not
sure if you’re familiar with John Cleese and the Ministry of Funny Walks, but
every time I have business at the Ministry of Education and Higher Education
(what? No department for Highest Education?), John Cleese comes to mind.
The Ministry of Education and Higher Education at 7:40 AM. It is January 23, but the tree is still up |
I
have had to be there - in my experience - quite a few times, either to exempt children from
Arabic state exams (entirely my own fault) or to baseline foreign university
degrees. And it has always been an
ordeal. Today went smoothly, but still I hope - with all my heart –
that this will be my last visit ever.
The
workings of this ministry are strange and unusual, and the Ministry of Mystery
might be a better name. Let me show you how that goes.
Back in December, I applied for an exemption for
my daughter from the Lebanese State Exam. Although the program in itself is of
an excellent level, most of the subjects are given in classical Arabic, a
language which is Chinese for my daughter. She has struggled since grade 1, and
has reached the point where she can actually read Arabic relatively fluently,
but as she does not know what the words mean, it is still Chinese to her. I will not
point any fingers as to whose fault this is.
When
you ask for the Arabic State Exam Exemption, you come with your paperwork (it’s
in Arabic so I am not able to tell you exactly what papers they are, and the English web site of the ministry does not work), two black
& white copies of each (color not allowed) to this famous Ministry of
Education in Beirut and you present yourself to a man behind a desk at the 2nd floor.
This '2nd floor' in itself turned out to be already quite a feat for me, entirely my own
fault, but as you walk into the front door of the Ministry, you do not realize
that the back entry is actually one floor lower. As such, the entrance is not
on the ground floor but already the 1st floor. If
you take the elevator, you do not notice this dilemma, but when you take the
stairs, as I tend to do, and think you are at the ground floor, you obviously walk
two floors to get to the 2nd floor. However, you have actually reached the 3rd
floor, but since there is an absolute
absence of any sign whatsoever in English, you have no clue as to where the
offices are that you need to visit. It is all in Arabic.
Anyway,
once that hurdle is conquered, and they direct you back to the 2nd floor, there is a man that gives you a ticket
with a number (grateful for that, no pushing and shoving here) and tells you to
get a stamp from the 1st floor (entrance floor, in this case).
You go down and get your stamp. Back up to the 2nd floor.
Now
they need you to go to the 3rd floor, to get these papers, with the stamps,
certified by someone on that floor.
Behind a little window on the 3rd floor is a friendly lady who tells you that you need stamps
for that too.
So
you walk down to the 1st floor, buy your stamps, and back to the 3rd
.
The friendly lady then quite vigorously stamps
everything, than on top of that stamps the date and then signs over the
stamps.
Back to the 2nd floor now.
Note the pen, attached with scotch tape and a little rope. |
There you wait in line until you are ushered in
a little office where another lady takes your paper work, checks it for irregularities,
and provides you with a slip of acceptance and the exact date it can be picked
up, which is about 3 weeks later.
But I am the first one.
“We open at 8.”
No problem
At 8 I may go to the 2nd floor. But when I enter the hallway, it is empty. The
guard has just walked in and is turning on the lights. This is clearly not a non-smoking ministry as there is a very strong odor of tobacco.
“They
come at 8:30,” says the guard. But he’s helpful. “Do you have the stamps?”
“Stamps?”
“Yes,
you need 35,000 LBP pounds in stamps.”
No
problem, I walk down to the 1st floor where I bought my stamps last time.
“No, these stamps you have to buy at the post office.”
“No, those
stamps are on the 1st floor,”
and via a very narrow stair case I get to a more unofficial part of the post
office for the stamps.
With
my newly acquired stamps I go back to the ministry’s 2nd floor.
There
I get a ticket from an in the meantime arrived employee, who sits down with his
first coffee and cigarette for the day. The cancer rate must be high in this
office. It reads number 1. I am the first customer of the day!
The link on this paper is the link I had been looking for on the Internet, but could't find. The English part of their website does not work. So how you are supposed to find this information is a mystery to me, unless you actually come to this office. The tie stamp is not accurate, I notice. |
And
indeed, at 8:30 sharp, I get called in. I give my stamps, get the original
paperwork, stamped to a T, and then get a copy certified in another office.
By
8:45 I am out again.
It
was by all means a smooth morning. The staff was on time, they were friendly
and helpful, no complaints.
But I
cannot get this Ministry of Funny Walks out of my head.
Well done,and hopefully the very last time! But to be honest: didn't you miss the chance to get a little "stampij-ing"?
ReplyDeleteYour neighbor in Beirut says:
ReplyDeleteThis sounds like an experience I recently had retrieving delayed luggage at the airport.
In most cases, delayed bags are delivered by the airline to the passenger's home. We all know things are different here. No can do. "Security reasons." The airline's website for delayed baggage informed you it has arrived. You have the report filed by the the airline and your passport for identification. They have your luggage. Pretty straightforward. But we know better.
First, find the responsible party to stamp the official baggage receipt. Allow time. There could be many or none at all. Ok, downstairs at the MEA handling office. The luggage is currently inside the "lost baggage office", immediately after immigration. But you have to re-enter the airport to retrieve it since it's not possible from any public areas in the airport. You need a security permit. Sound familiar?
Here's how it goes: get your paper report stamped at the MEA handling office on the lower level, then walk past the restaurant Akil and find the policeman. Okay. Among the many present....
Find him down a narrow hallway sitting with another guy. Show passport and receipt, watch him annotate the visitors list, and gain admission to the Rafik Harriri aiprort inner sanctum. Find elevator and go to the second floor. Wander down a maze of hallways, left, right, left, filled with civil aviation offices. Find another policeman adjacent to a building wing. This is it. Repeat process: show passport and report, watch the visitor's log be filled.
Wander down another hallway filled with men in plain clothes, definitely security types. Find the office with their help and count your lucky stars because your man was out of his office, leaving, but others called him back for you. Be thankful for Lebanese generosity toward foreigners. Get permit and go downstairs to arrivals area. Show permit to other policemen and enter the arrivals area and retrieve your luggage without further issues.
Total time required: 1 hour 5 minutes
It took less than 30 seconds to physically retrieve the bag at the lost luggage office
Another day in Lebanon
How I love your (dutch?) irony, and patience!!! How can you stay so patient!!!
ReplyDeleteIt also reminds me of ´Asterix and Obelix in Rome´... Watch it, you´ll understand ;-)
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