The Work Blog
Let me tell you about my first day at work...or, as I like to call it, the day I was kidnapped by the President of the college.
I told you it was an epic story.
And you're in for more thrills and chills as I tell you about the rest of my week at work. The trip to the police station for finger-printing and retinal scanning. And the trip to the clinic for blood testing, and yet a different clinic for blood typing (I could have told them--O positive). And the trip to yet a different clinic for my chest x-ray, and don't forget the part about having my blouse accidentally stolen by an otherwise lovely and innocent woman from Tunisia.
(This blog is timely, as Glenn will be going through all of this medical process this coming week. Hope he can hang on to his clothing!)
But hold on. Let me first tell you about how Dr. Ken made me late for my very first meeting at the college.
Here we go. I was told to report to Building 3 on Sunday, April 1 (hey, maybe that had something to do with it) at 8 AM. No problem. HR sent a driver to pick me up at home and he delivered me right to Building 3. I walked up to Security (every building has at least 1 Security station) and asked where I could find the HR room number I was given.
However, before anyone could even utter April Fool's, a man came bounding down some nearby stairs, held out his hand, and asked who I was. I told him, and I also told him who I was going to be working for. Well, he said, I'm Ken MacLeod, the President of the college, and I can take you right to your office. I mildly protested, saying I had an appointment with HR but Dr. Ken (as he is called here), led me straight out the back of Building 3, across a beautiful courtyard (and a Tim Horton's--see previous blog), into Building 12, and up the stairs to my new office. There I was greeted very warmly by my new boss and new colleagues, and I was touched to see that there was a sign on my door saying "Welcome Nancy to IRP." (There will be an Acronym Blog: IRP stands for Institutional Research and Planning. QP stands for Qatar Petroleum. Pay attention. These details are important.)
But, I politely protested to everyone, I really should be at a meeting with HR. Meanwhile, a phone is ringing in the background, presumably to alert IRP to the fact that the new employee was a no-show.
So, I was released and escorted back to Building 3 (with an awfully good excuse, I might add), where I spent the morning in orientation with a young Qatari woman who was starting her first job (the only woman in her family ever to take a paid position). It was an honour and a privilege for me to meet and spend time with this young, enthusiastic Business graduate. We ran into each other in the cafeteria last week and will connect again, I hope, to share our very different perspectives on starting our respective jobs at the college.
So that was day 1: back to Building 12 and my new office in the afternoon, having been told to report back to HR the next morning (on time!). I had been given a very basic cell phone when Glenn and I arrived at the airport, and I was also told to stay tuned for phone calls regarding my various trips to clinics and police stations and so on. Well, I've already told you about those trips, in brief, and so I won't elaborate to much, except to say this: I've never seen such a diverse population in my life. I was in waiting rooms with people from all over Africa and India, the Gulf Region, the Philippines, India, North America, Europe, etc.
What was most peculiar about waiting for my fingerprinting (every finger of both hands, as well as both palms) was the way that the clerks would shout out for the next person. Rather than using names (which they clearly had in their possession), they would announce, Africa! (yes, just Africa) or housewife! or servant! How people understood when to go forward, I don't know. And I can't remember how I was called up. It certainly wasn't Canada! though I would have responded to that.
And the blouse story? The chest x-ray was the most stressful of all of these trips. At each of these stops, men and women enter entirely different wings of the building. At the chest x-ray clinic, we women were asked to go into a change room to take off our upper garments, put on a gown, and then bring our clothes with us into an anteroom, where we were grouped together in 3s and 4s to await our x-rays. Of course, we weren't allowed to take anything with us when we went in to the X-ray room, so we had to set down our clothes and purses in a heap on a table. As we each left, we grabbed what we had brought in, and went out again to change. I was picking through my clothing, trying to grab it all, when a woman who had just left the room (someone I had been sitting beside and chatting with--thus I knew she was from Tunisia) threw the curtain aside and, laughing, said, I took your blouse, I took your blouse! Well, so she had, and wouldn't that have been embarrassing if I'd tried to leave the clinic without my top on! Almost as embarrassing as being late for my first appointment on my first day at work!
Anyway, that's more than enough for the day. I had really wanted to talk about dragon boating (went out for the second time this morning), but that too shall have to wait for another day. Meanwhile, enjoy these pictures of work, and me at work (that picture just taken yesterday, when I noticed that my name plate was up on the door). Also note the positioning of my office right next to Program Development....
Signing off for now. Welcome your comments. Hope spring is coming soon!
P.S. The Tim Horton's picture is a repeat, I know, but it figures in the above story so I thought I would include it.
I told you it was an epic story.
And you're in for more thrills and chills as I tell you about the rest of my week at work. The trip to the police station for finger-printing and retinal scanning. And the trip to the clinic for blood testing, and yet a different clinic for blood typing (I could have told them--O positive). And the trip to yet a different clinic for my chest x-ray, and don't forget the part about having my blouse accidentally stolen by an otherwise lovely and innocent woman from Tunisia.
(This blog is timely, as Glenn will be going through all of this medical process this coming week. Hope he can hang on to his clothing!)
But hold on. Let me first tell you about how Dr. Ken made me late for my very first meeting at the college.
Here we go. I was told to report to Building 3 on Sunday, April 1 (hey, maybe that had something to do with it) at 8 AM. No problem. HR sent a driver to pick me up at home and he delivered me right to Building 3. I walked up to Security (every building has at least 1 Security station) and asked where I could find the HR room number I was given.
However, before anyone could even utter April Fool's, a man came bounding down some nearby stairs, held out his hand, and asked who I was. I told him, and I also told him who I was going to be working for. Well, he said, I'm Ken MacLeod, the President of the college, and I can take you right to your office. I mildly protested, saying I had an appointment with HR but Dr. Ken (as he is called here), led me straight out the back of Building 3, across a beautiful courtyard (and a Tim Horton's--see previous blog), into Building 12, and up the stairs to my new office. There I was greeted very warmly by my new boss and new colleagues, and I was touched to see that there was a sign on my door saying "Welcome Nancy to IRP." (There will be an Acronym Blog: IRP stands for Institutional Research and Planning. QP stands for Qatar Petroleum. Pay attention. These details are important.)
But, I politely protested to everyone, I really should be at a meeting with HR. Meanwhile, a phone is ringing in the background, presumably to alert IRP to the fact that the new employee was a no-show.
So, I was released and escorted back to Building 3 (with an awfully good excuse, I might add), where I spent the morning in orientation with a young Qatari woman who was starting her first job (the only woman in her family ever to take a paid position). It was an honour and a privilege for me to meet and spend time with this young, enthusiastic Business graduate. We ran into each other in the cafeteria last week and will connect again, I hope, to share our very different perspectives on starting our respective jobs at the college.
So that was day 1: back to Building 12 and my new office in the afternoon, having been told to report back to HR the next morning (on time!). I had been given a very basic cell phone when Glenn and I arrived at the airport, and I was also told to stay tuned for phone calls regarding my various trips to clinics and police stations and so on. Well, I've already told you about those trips, in brief, and so I won't elaborate to much, except to say this: I've never seen such a diverse population in my life. I was in waiting rooms with people from all over Africa and India, the Gulf Region, the Philippines, India, North America, Europe, etc.
What was most peculiar about waiting for my fingerprinting (every finger of both hands, as well as both palms) was the way that the clerks would shout out for the next person. Rather than using names (which they clearly had in their possession), they would announce, Africa! (yes, just Africa) or housewife! or servant! How people understood when to go forward, I don't know. And I can't remember how I was called up. It certainly wasn't Canada! though I would have responded to that.
And the blouse story? The chest x-ray was the most stressful of all of these trips. At each of these stops, men and women enter entirely different wings of the building. At the chest x-ray clinic, we women were asked to go into a change room to take off our upper garments, put on a gown, and then bring our clothes with us into an anteroom, where we were grouped together in 3s and 4s to await our x-rays. Of course, we weren't allowed to take anything with us when we went in to the X-ray room, so we had to set down our clothes and purses in a heap on a table. As we each left, we grabbed what we had brought in, and went out again to change. I was picking through my clothing, trying to grab it all, when a woman who had just left the room (someone I had been sitting beside and chatting with--thus I knew she was from Tunisia) threw the curtain aside and, laughing, said, I took your blouse, I took your blouse! Well, so she had, and wouldn't that have been embarrassing if I'd tried to leave the clinic without my top on! Almost as embarrassing as being late for my first appointment on my first day at work!
Anyway, that's more than enough for the day. I had really wanted to talk about dragon boating (went out for the second time this morning), but that too shall have to wait for another day. Meanwhile, enjoy these pictures of work, and me at work (that picture just taken yesterday, when I noticed that my name plate was up on the door). Also note the positioning of my office right next to Program Development....
Signing off for now. Welcome your comments. Hope spring is coming soon!
P.S. The Tim Horton's picture is a repeat, I know, but it figures in the above story so I thought I would include it.
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