Category: Life in Paris

*and not the kind of exercise I like.

I should have read the Dummies Guide to French Paperwork.

It’s been a while since I’ve posted and mainly that’s been because I’ve been busy juggling cats. They always fall feet first and given their razor sharp claws you can see the danger of this pastime. So I’ve begun a new hobby and that’s french paperwork. Our ‘local’ office is in Vancouver which means we need to journey across from the island to make our appointments with them. They require all to be in attendance so the kids have relished a few days off while we wring our hands in frustration at having to organize yet another visit to our friendly french visa office.

I use the term friendly with huge sarcasm as the last time we were there I think I was nearly arrested. It’s a comical yet highly irritating story of a small woman with a big power complex (and no I don’t mean me although she may feel the same way!) She wouldn’t allow me to wait in the ‘reception area’ (go figure…) and told me to go down to the lobby. The elevator took an age to arrive and when it did I was in the middle of sending an email to the french school re needing a(nother) form. So I let the elevator pass and decided to stand by the elevators and await James and the kids emerging (yes we all had to be there, but only one parent was allowed to go in the appointment…whaaaat?!….the logic of the place is mind boggling.)

Anyway I was happily sending my email quietly minding my own business when a man emerges from the visa office and presses the button for the elevator. As he is waiting the security woman comes out of the office to tell the man something and as she does she sees me standing there and gives me heck….for standing in the public hallway. I was dumbfounded. I said I was pretty sure it was fine for me to wait there quietly for my family. She went on a tear about how she told me to go down and wait in the lobby. I said I had understood her, I just didn’t understand why. She raised her voice at me and the man who was waiting blanched, gave me a look of incredulity and turned around to give her a serious dressing down. He said he is a lawyer and she has no jurisdiction on the public hallway outside the office. She ignored him and told me she was going to ask me ‘one last time’ to leave. The elevator dinged and I decided to ride down with the gentleman and escape her wrath, but as I got into the elevator I told her, her behavior was totally illogical and entirely unreasonable. The doors closed and my elevator partner said ‘illogical and unreasonable?….aren’t you polite? I was about to tell her to go f*ck herself.’ I laughed and admitted that had most certainly crossed my mind too!

The experience with the security woman at the multi-nation visa paperwork processing centre is not such a far-off representation of what transpired at our actual appointments inside the visa office trying to get visas for the kids to study abroad. I have an EU passport, but news flash to me, it seems useless as it’s not from one of the Schengen countries. No wonder Brexit is being considered!…countries in the UK aren’t included, but Latvia, Slovenia and Malta are….Now I understand why a friend told me he has friends who were looking into buying Maltese nationalities.

Visas are issued off-site at the French Consulate. Not sure why we can’t go there directly, but seems par for the course. And every trip to the visa paperwork processing office garners us seemingly new information in the form of a new document to procure. So far we have had no fewer than 14 letters notarized; we’ve had to change our lease on the apartment to specifically list the children (who are minors and shouldn’t be on a legal document such as a lease but these seem to be insignificant details to those who demand it); we’ve supplied 5 years of income and bank and investment statements and are pretty sure we could have adopted children more easily than this process has been.

Our health insurance was apparently only eligible if it’s in effect at the time of application even though the application can take months, and when we pointed out it’s a large cost for something that isn’t needed until we arrive (if we arrive…) he just repeated that we need health insurance which is currently in effect. (The logic reminded me of when we were flying years ago on an Asian airline and had asked to be in the non-smoking section because I’m allergic. When we got on the plane, people lit up and we realized we were seated in the row directly in front of the smoking section. As smoke curled over us and we choked and spluttered gesturing at the smoke, the unperturbed cabin attendant clapped her hands and smiled ‘yes, you are IN the non smoking seats!’)

But we *think* we may have finally dotted all the i’s, and crossed all the t’s, so are venturing back into the lair this Thursday. Well truth be told I’m not setting foot in there because, well, refer to paragraph two. And both of us aren’t allowed in the room anyway. So, if the paperwork checkers give it the green light we are meant to pay an additional fee (to save french speaking squirrels or who knows what given we will have already paid the application fee 3x) and then we wait for a month to see if access has been granted. It feels like one of the kids’ video games, but the graphics are terrible, you don’t get to drive fast cars or have magic powers, and you can’t just ‘in-app purchase’ your way out.

When I was moaning to a good friend, she said ‘Oh no! How is a butterfly to spread her wings if she is trapped in her cocoon?!’ Yes this a very good question, and while she said it to make me smile, it did make me think. If we refer back to the butterfly story, we are reminded that the arduous and painstaking process of emerging from the cocoon is in fact a very valuable and necessary one. This is the logic I try to retain as I pull on my wings in frustration, and quietly recite ‘Serenity Now.’