So last week I received an email from the French Immigration Office (OFII) that I had an appointment for today to receive my carte de sejour, another required document that allows me to legally be in the country for longer than 3 months (irnoic, considering I've already been here longer than that.)
My appointmment was for 9.30am and I got up early so I had plenty of time and wouldn't miss my sacred rendez-vous because I was 30 seconds late. I got mildly distracted on the way there (might have been something to do with staring at the Bastille monument and the amazing boulangerie's I've only just discovered litter this arrondisement) and arrived at the door just on time. (Its here that I have to thank techno geniuses that we have iPhone's because without it I would probably be half way to Germany by now, turns out my navigational skills aren't quite up to scratch yet. Sorry Dad, maybe I should have packed an atlas.)
Anyway, I made it to the right place without too much strife and instantly knew I was in the right place judging by the queue outside the door. I joined the who's who of homeless celebrities (Mr. I've Been Drinking For a Month Straight, young My Parents Haven't Showered Me Since I Jumped in the Seine, and Mrs. I'm Pregnant With My Twentieth Child to Thirteen Different Men.) I didn't know if I had to wait in the line but the doors and windows were tinted so I couldn't see what was inside and I've already learned that you don't want to mess with French officials (and I was about to learn again.)
After about 20 minutes (by which time my face and fingers were numb and I joined the communal smell of whiskey, cigarettes and wet socks) a man came out asking if anyone had a rendez-vous. I immediately jumped forward with two other girls and a guy who stood out from the crowd (read: clean clothes and sans their wardobe and kitchen sink in a trolley alongside them) and we were ushered inside.
Once we got inside it was quieter and cleaner and we were asked to show our convocation, a document that we had been said with our personal information. Unfortunately I hadn't been able to print mine and after explaining this to the nice man he lead me to another room. This room had a small, scowling lady speaking to a man and his daughter who looked like they had just hopped off the container from the ship that brought them to France. The lady looked at me and I told her my situation, that I couldn't print mon convocation. She speed off in angry French that it wasn't her problem, she was busy, had lots of work to do and people to see and that she didn't have time for petty issues like printing that should have already been done. I tried to explain that it was impossible for me to print it (half true) and that I had only recently received the email (not true). After a quickly escalating discussion in which I told her there was nothing that I could do, she finished with the people who were with her (and watching in awe as the small white girl with shocking French took on a fiesty French woman), she left the room with a disgruntled "I'm leaving my computer for 2 minutes so do what you can in that time". Strangest invitation to use an official's computer I've ever had.
I quickly printed off my forms and ran upstairs before she could attack me some more and arrived to another room full of people. Thankfully the added level (and weight) of the upstairs lady's made them far more friendly and I was able to give them all my documents and take my seat. It was at this time that the people coming up were saying the people in the queue outside decided the best plan to move things along was to try and bash the door down. Not sure how that plan was going to play out once they got in, use their limited literacy skills to try and forge their own forms?
Luckily I ran into a few SP classmates and the slow time wasn't quite so unbearable. After about 30 minutes myself and a group of people got called through (to yet another room full of people!) but there were no seats so we stood awkwardly in the entrance. This obvisouly got too much for one doctor who ordered us back into the other room to prevent crowding. Halfway back, the lady who originally took us through encoutered us getting taken back by the doctor and this caused a heated argument between the two woman which involved screaming, shouting, a lot of oggling glances, the group of us walking backwards and forwards between the two angry women and resulted in the doctor throwing the other lady's peices of paper on the ground and storming off angrily. Nevertheless we ended back up in the second waiting room, but alas, this time we had seats.
I waited more and was called through to the first testing room where I was measured, weighed (don't go there), had my eye sight tested (hilarious experience trying to strain my eyes, guess the letters and then say them in French, I think my awful accent actually helped in this scenario) and then was led through to the room where you get nude and have your x-rays taken.
This is followed by more waiting before the second testing where your x-rays are checked (Tuberculosis-free Mum!), blood pressure taken, heart rate checked and the question stage. Now, according to my records I have had my measles and tetanus injection in 2011 just before I came to France... Nothing they don't know won't hurt them right? I'll blame incoherency if I ever get a needle to the face.
Finally, I got to go through to the final stage where I waited some more, then was given instructions and obligations and sent on my way.
'C'est tout?' I asked.
'C'est tout? C'est pas suffit?' She asked me back, laughing heartily with her raspy smoker's cough.
At least someone had a sense of humour about waiting in queues for 4 hours on a Monday morning.
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