It would be another 4 days before the journey to Jebel Ali (translated: Ali Mountain) because in-between, Aric and I spent a long weekend with several other Cisco couples in Ras Al Khamiah, relaxing, boating and golfing (men) and Spa-ing (women). I felt this was highly needed after the nightmare of having to deal with Dubai CSI, Khadaffi and Saddam all in one afternoon.
Aric volunteered to go with me to the police station to file a report. This was a great idea because women are not seen as the major force in "getting things done" in Dubai.
We arrived (day 1) at the shack representing the police station. Inside was a make-shift counter where we told the duty officer that we wanted to file a stolen bike report. He told us to speak with the Sergeant Director (I think this was Kaddafi’s younger brother) and while we waited to be invited into his office, we sat on the bench facing several Indian detainees daisy chained together in handcuffs. Of course I wondered what crime they had committed (maybe one was a gardener who had taken a silver bike??) - they all looked a bit lost but appeared happy as soon as they were unlocked and allowed to go outside for a "fresh air" break (as if 115 Fahrenheit could be considered fresh air). It was just like a dog kennel where the animals are taken out for a potty trip! Well, that’s blog story for another day. Back to our fairy tale about the lost silver bike.
Aric and I finally got to talk to the guy we thought was quite high on the totem pole. Kaddafi junior asked us why we were there. After another attempt to explain that we just wanted to file a report, so we could get the insurance claim submitted, he told us we needed to come back at 10pm when the next shift captain would be on duty. This made no sense (and both of us made sure to communicate that). Kaddafi junior told us that he only spoke very little and very bad English (no sh*t Sherlock) – so we asked to speak to the guy who appeared to have taken on-line language courses at Cambridge, colonel Abdullah something. We know he’s a colonel because Aric and he had a 30 minute conversation about rank and what the various tinsel stuff on their uniform represented. One star, you are “nothing” – two stars you are a little more….one star, a falcon and a set of crossed swords and you have about 40 years in service and still remember when oil was still a black sticky substance that came out of the sand. We wanted to talk to the guy with the falcon and swords, definitely!
Sadly he told us the same thing. “We have 4 shifts and the guy who worked on your case has not put anything in the system yet (after 2 weeks) so we cannot help you! Please come back at 10pm and speak to Captain Omar Bin Rashabaha-bla-bla-bla”! We left after an hour and a half – confused, mad and with no copy of the police report.
At 10pm that evening I called the station. I asked for Captain Omar Bla bla bla (thinking he was actually the Saddam cop who was at the scene with CSI Dubai). “No this is MAJOR Omar Bin Rasha bla-bla-bla – I am a MAJOR not a Captain. Oh boy! I asked him what he had on his shoulders – he told me he had a flag, two falcons, four swords, six stars and partridge in a pear tree! Apologizing profusely, I told him that Colonel Abdullah had told me he was a captain (always blame the other guy!!)
Anyway the Major turned out to be a nice guy even though he never gave me a case number – because as he explained, which makes TOTAL sense - the guy on the third shift had locked the cabinet and he had no access! Of course not! Silly me! So Major Omar Bin Rasha Bla-bla-bla invited me back the next day – with the wee lad - to give a statement (the fourth verbal statement but who’s counting). I couldn’t wait! I told Aric I wanted to put my best dress on because the Major had personally invited me to come and be confused yet again.
The next day (day 2), La Familia sat in the special office where tea was served to the officers and guests and we had the pleasure of Hunter being interrogated.
Episode 3 will follow very soon.
Aric volunteered to go with me to the police station to file a report. This was a great idea because women are not seen as the major force in "getting things done" in Dubai.
We arrived (day 1) at the shack representing the police station. Inside was a make-shift counter where we told the duty officer that we wanted to file a stolen bike report. He told us to speak with the Sergeant Director (I think this was Kaddafi’s younger brother) and while we waited to be invited into his office, we sat on the bench facing several Indian detainees daisy chained together in handcuffs. Of course I wondered what crime they had committed (maybe one was a gardener who had taken a silver bike??) - they all looked a bit lost but appeared happy as soon as they were unlocked and allowed to go outside for a "fresh air" break (as if 115 Fahrenheit could be considered fresh air). It was just like a dog kennel where the animals are taken out for a potty trip! Well, that’s blog story for another day. Back to our fairy tale about the lost silver bike.
Aric and I finally got to talk to the guy we thought was quite high on the totem pole. Kaddafi junior asked us why we were there. After another attempt to explain that we just wanted to file a report, so we could get the insurance claim submitted, he told us we needed to come back at 10pm when the next shift captain would be on duty. This made no sense (and both of us made sure to communicate that). Kaddafi junior told us that he only spoke very little and very bad English (no sh*t Sherlock) – so we asked to speak to the guy who appeared to have taken on-line language courses at Cambridge, colonel Abdullah something. We know he’s a colonel because Aric and he had a 30 minute conversation about rank and what the various tinsel stuff on their uniform represented. One star, you are “nothing” – two stars you are a little more….one star, a falcon and a set of crossed swords and you have about 40 years in service and still remember when oil was still a black sticky substance that came out of the sand. We wanted to talk to the guy with the falcon and swords, definitely!
Sadly he told us the same thing. “We have 4 shifts and the guy who worked on your case has not put anything in the system yet (after 2 weeks) so we cannot help you! Please come back at 10pm and speak to Captain Omar Bin Rashabaha-bla-bla-bla”! We left after an hour and a half – confused, mad and with no copy of the police report.
At 10pm that evening I called the station. I asked for Captain Omar Bla bla bla (thinking he was actually the Saddam cop who was at the scene with CSI Dubai). “No this is MAJOR Omar Bin Rasha bla-bla-bla – I am a MAJOR not a Captain. Oh boy! I asked him what he had on his shoulders – he told me he had a flag, two falcons, four swords, six stars and partridge in a pear tree! Apologizing profusely, I told him that Colonel Abdullah had told me he was a captain (always blame the other guy!!)
Anyway the Major turned out to be a nice guy even though he never gave me a case number – because as he explained, which makes TOTAL sense - the guy on the third shift had locked the cabinet and he had no access! Of course not! Silly me! So Major Omar Bin Rasha Bla-bla-bla invited me back the next day – with the wee lad - to give a statement (the fourth verbal statement but who’s counting). I couldn’t wait! I told Aric I wanted to put my best dress on because the Major had personally invited me to come and be confused yet again.
The next day (day 2), La Familia sat in the special office where tea was served to the officers and guests and we had the pleasure of Hunter being interrogated.
Episode 3 will follow very soon.
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