Paper Work

I have been spending so much time on paperwork lately. Each time I find myself immersed in it, seeing no way to get it done, I calm down reminding myself that I have known worse in France, back in time.

Why the French are so notorious for their bureaucracy is another question. They claim so to speak to have invented science and technology, the World Wide Web among others, but when it comes to putting them to use, they really drag their feet. I often even wonder if they know how to use computers, in general, and I think the worst official web pages I have come across (both in content and visual worth) are the French ones, should it be their governmental or academic institutions. And they plain outright just don't answer e-mail, nope! (Also, why should they, when an e-mail doesn't even have a stamp!?)

For five weeks now have I been working on having transcripts sent from the French universities I studied at in order to ship them again to the U.S. where I am now applying for entry. And I am getting nowhere at it, despite e-mail, snail mail, phone calls and lots of "Monsieur/Madame", "s'il-vous-plait"s and "Veuillez agréer ..."s, believe me. It's exasperating. On one side I have the French, demanding a lot of patience, ass licking and formalities, on the other the Americans favoring service, speed and efficiency. (Plus, the two nationalities hate each other, but that's another story ...)

But well, I have seen worse. I have applied for a French residence permit and been told that it could not be delivered unless I had a university inscription, while I couldn't complete my inscription at the university until I had my residence permit, thus being sent back and forth.

It even occurred to me this was some sort of a sick joke the French played on foreigners who came to dwell in their country. Then the key is to come stand in line at different venues, different counters, again and again and again, and again, with at least four copies of every possible document and a bunch of identity photos and postal stamps, until one day surprisingly they give you the paper and you are so relieved that you forgot you were ever annoyed by the hassle.

Sometimes of course unexpected problems can arise, like my third year in France, when the guy who stamped the residence permits died, so I had to be without one for seven months. And you learn just to take things as they come. But they have lots of cafés there too. And cheap, good wine. So that helps. Sort of.

Right now, right here, however, I have no cheap wine and no café terraces, so I'm really not in the mood for games. If only I thought they would read my blog, and then get things going for me, please ...