When I preregistered the girls for school, I was told that I had to meet with the director (principal) of the school in order for enrollment to be complete and that I had to call James' school in order to set up a meeting with them. I quickly figured out that no one would be available until the week before classes, which meant that today (August 27) was the first day that anyone would be in the office and available to set up a meeting or talk about school enrollment.
I made some notes for myself and got out the girls' forms, then I called James' school to talk to them. I got transferred right away to the director, who told me that it is the correct school for the location where we live, but they can't take him, because they don't have any assistance for French as a foreign language. She took my number and said she'd call me back.
I called the girls' school before I could get too nervous about the possibilities, but I got an answering machine. Rather than stutter a message, I hung up. About forty minutes later, the phone rang, and the director of the school said, "You called?" Um yeah, when I had all my notes in front of me and was mentally prepared to talk to you....
She was very nice, despite my stumbling though the explanation of what I needed. They also have no extra resources for the girls, and she offered to see if they could transfer to a school with some support. As she and I talked about it, though, we decided to leave all the girls in the same school, figuring they'd catch on. (The extra support is mostly grammar-oriented and is only once a week; I don't think it really matters, given that the kids will only be in France for 4 months.) I'm going tomorrow to finish enrolling the girls. They'll come with me to see the school, too.
James, however, still doesn't have a school....
Showing posts with label bureaucracy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bureaucracy. Show all posts
Monday, August 27, 2012
Monday, August 20, 2012
Récépissé de demande de carte de séjour
Now that it's after August 15, I am in possession of all the proper documents to apply for my residency permit, so I went to the Prefecture this morning.
When I got in line (the right line!) at 7:45 am, there were already about 35 people ahead of me. (The line begins to be admitted to the building at 9:00 am.) When we were admitted, I was given a ticket with the number of S700, which meant that I was the very first person in line for a residency permit attached to a scientific visa/research visa. (Ie, none of the 35 persons in front of me would be dealt with by the same administrator as the one I needed.)
Despite that, my number was not called until 9:35 am and when I went to the proper window, the same man who had been giving out tickets was the one processing my application. In other words, he had been giving out tickets for the past half hour, so there was no way that I would have been called any sooner than 9:30 -- though if I had arrived later than I did, I could have been waiting substantially longer than I did.
The process took about 25 minutes. He first asked if my dossier was complete in a very serious and almost cranky tone of voice, making me quite glad that he was not the person I encountered the first time I went to the Prefecture! I told him that I believed it to be and mentioned that the last time I was there, I was told that the only thing I needed was a translation of my marriage license, which I kind of waved at him.
He asked for my passport, which I gave him. He told me that he'd never heard of Bozeman, Montana and it must be a very small town. I told him that there aren't any big towns in Montana. He said, "Yes, just a lot of open space." I said, "But it is beautiful country..." He said, "If you like open space and you don't like big cities." Fair enough, but probably not as friendly as the last bureaucrat.
He looked at the copies, then asked if I had the originals. I said I did and started to pass the packet of them over. He gave a wave as if to say, "Whatever. I don't need them. I just need to know that you have them." He then confirmed that I'd been married in Saint Louis (not Las Vegas, he said, offering me a glimpse of a sense of humor...) and confirmed that I have four (yes, four) children.
It took him awhile to fill out all the forms -- and pass them over to me to sign, but by the end, he had warmed up substantially. When he was careful to note that my first two signatures had to remain within the limits of the box, I asked if there were any requirements about where I ought to put the final signature. He smiled and dryly said "No. Feel free to express yourself."
By 10:00 am, I was in possession of a paper certifying that I have applied for my residency permit. And no one ever even glanced at the very expensive translation of my marriage licence, which took me hours to arrange.
When I got in line (the right line!) at 7:45 am, there were already about 35 people ahead of me. (The line begins to be admitted to the building at 9:00 am.) When we were admitted, I was given a ticket with the number of S700, which meant that I was the very first person in line for a residency permit attached to a scientific visa/research visa. (Ie, none of the 35 persons in front of me would be dealt with by the same administrator as the one I needed.)
Despite that, my number was not called until 9:35 am and when I went to the proper window, the same man who had been giving out tickets was the one processing my application. In other words, he had been giving out tickets for the past half hour, so there was no way that I would have been called any sooner than 9:30 -- though if I had arrived later than I did, I could have been waiting substantially longer than I did.
The process took about 25 minutes. He first asked if my dossier was complete in a very serious and almost cranky tone of voice, making me quite glad that he was not the person I encountered the first time I went to the Prefecture! I told him that I believed it to be and mentioned that the last time I was there, I was told that the only thing I needed was a translation of my marriage license, which I kind of waved at him.
He asked for my passport, which I gave him. He told me that he'd never heard of Bozeman, Montana and it must be a very small town. I told him that there aren't any big towns in Montana. He said, "Yes, just a lot of open space." I said, "But it is beautiful country..." He said, "If you like open space and you don't like big cities." Fair enough, but probably not as friendly as the last bureaucrat.
He looked at the copies, then asked if I had the originals. I said I did and started to pass the packet of them over. He gave a wave as if to say, "Whatever. I don't need them. I just need to know that you have them." He then confirmed that I'd been married in Saint Louis (not Las Vegas, he said, offering me a glimpse of a sense of humor...) and confirmed that I have four (yes, four) children.
It took him awhile to fill out all the forms -- and pass them over to me to sign, but by the end, he had warmed up substantially. When he was careful to note that my first two signatures had to remain within the limits of the box, I asked if there were any requirements about where I ought to put the final signature. He smiled and dryly said "No. Feel free to express yourself."
By 10:00 am, I was in possession of a paper certifying that I have applied for my residency permit. And no one ever even glanced at the very expensive translation of my marriage licence, which took me hours to arrange.
Friday, July 27, 2012
More on Lyon
That goes for the bureaucrats, too! Yesterday at the Mairie, the woman helping me was very apologetic about not being able to do what I needed her to do, and that was after the woman at the desk complimented my French pronunciation. (I have an obvious American accent when I speak. If someone compliments my pronunciation, she is likely being kind!)
Later in the day, I went with friends to the Resistance/Holocaust memorial of the prison of Montluc. It was overwhelming, and as I was standing, thinking about the victims deported to Drancy -- and then sent to Auschwitz-Birkenau, I must have had a funny look on my face. One of the museum guides stopped and made sure that I was doing okay.
Yes, there have been documents to collect, calls to make, trips to the prefecture and the mairie and long waits in line, but throughout it all, I have been treated kindly.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Children: Half-Registered
Or half pre-registered, so is that a quarter registered? I went to the Mairie for the 4th Arrondisement this morning and registered my children for school. Except they only accept registrations for maternelle and elementaire (primary/grade school) and not collège (middle school), and I still have to contact the elementary school to speak with the director in order for the youngest two to be fully enrolled. The older two kids have a separate registration process, so I have a number to call in order to find out which school is the proper one to contact. (Yes: a call in order to be able to make a call.) But I still consider it a success!
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
First trip to the Prefecture
Verdict not totally unpleasant. It was also unsuccessful in the sense that I didn't get the titre de séjour or residency permit filed. On the other hand, I didn't expect to get it filed, and I got closer than I thought, so it was definitely a positive experience in that sense.
Got there around 8 am (they open at 9 am for my type of document.) Found and stood in the right line, got told it was the wrong line ("No. No. Carte de séjour over there.") Moved to the "right" line. Got to the front, got told to go back to the old line ("No. Visa Scientifique over there."). Line was now much much longer. Woman behind me eventually verified that I was indeed likely in the right line.
When the line began to move, an obnoxious student pushed in front of me. Got my number (6 people in line ahead of my for my visa type), and sat down. Waited. And waited. Consoled myself with the fact that only 2 women appeared to be servicing the same kind of visa/titre de séjour that I needed and if they were taking their time with other people, they must be reasonable people who weren't looking for excuses to send us all away. Eventually got my turn and a quite nice woman looked at my documents. My marriage license needs to be translated (too long and complicated) and I can't come back until the first date on my rental agreement (makes good sense, plus I don't even know if I'll have the translation by then!). She looked at all my documents and put them in order for me and got me a list of translators (the link on the Prefecture's site is broken, which is really the most important reason I was there today). Very helpful. And now I know which line to start on -- and stay -- in when I return.
There is a moment in J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan where Peter Pan does something of which he is unreasonably proud -- I don't remember what the minimal accomplishment is -- and he crows. I felt like that when I left the Prefecture. I found the right place, I stuck with it even knowing it wouldn't be successful, I got a list of translators, and I found the right bus to make it to the Mairie to register my kids for school.
Then I got to the Mairie to see the sign: Fermeture Exceptionelle: 24 Juillet. And here I was hoping my good luck was going to continue! Still, a productive day.
Got there around 8 am (they open at 9 am for my type of document.) Found and stood in the right line, got told it was the wrong line ("No. No. Carte de séjour over there.") Moved to the "right" line. Got to the front, got told to go back to the old line ("No. Visa Scientifique over there."). Line was now much much longer. Woman behind me eventually verified that I was indeed likely in the right line.
When the line began to move, an obnoxious student pushed in front of me. Got my number (6 people in line ahead of my for my visa type), and sat down. Waited. And waited. Consoled myself with the fact that only 2 women appeared to be servicing the same kind of visa/titre de séjour that I needed and if they were taking their time with other people, they must be reasonable people who weren't looking for excuses to send us all away. Eventually got my turn and a quite nice woman looked at my documents. My marriage license needs to be translated (too long and complicated) and I can't come back until the first date on my rental agreement (makes good sense, plus I don't even know if I'll have the translation by then!). She looked at all my documents and put them in order for me and got me a list of translators (the link on the Prefecture's site is broken, which is really the most important reason I was there today). Very helpful. And now I know which line to start on -- and stay -- in when I return.
There is a moment in J.M. Barrie's Peter Pan where Peter Pan does something of which he is unreasonably proud -- I don't remember what the minimal accomplishment is -- and he crows. I felt like that when I left the Prefecture. I found the right place, I stuck with it even knowing it wouldn't be successful, I got a list of translators, and I found the right bus to make it to the Mairie to register my kids for school.
Then I got to the Mairie to see the sign: Fermeture Exceptionelle: 24 Juillet. And here I was hoping my good luck was going to continue! Still, a productive day.
Friday, July 20, 2012
More documents to gather
I thought that I had all my documents (in triplicate or even more!), but it turns out that I was mistaken. Given what I've heard about the bureacucracy involved in getting a visa, this isn't too surprising. So far, I know that I need a different form of identity photo than the ones I brought (though it looks like it might be available at Monoprix, which is kind of like a French version of Target) and official (judicial) French translations of my marriage license and birth certificates. More running around and more money -- and that's only what I already know I need! Once I get to the prefecture, they may tell me I need something else...
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