Installment 1A: Un pied à terre

J’habite à Paris donc je blog. I figure I’d better start blogging now that I have one foot on the ground (UN pied à terre) but before my illegal status gets me kicked out.

When I first landed here over two months ago, I marched with my visa from NY in hand, straight to the police precinct, where such matters as residency permits are handled, to get mine. Such is the first step in becoming legal (temporarily). I went in bright-eyed and came out in tears. Long story short, my fellowship agency---only THE biggest national funder here---gave me a document that was not official and instead looked like something that had been whipped up out of construction paper and markers. So my visa was never valid to begin with. Try again: Just wait to get the, eh, valid document and swing it back by the Consulate IN NEW YORK. What? Good thing I already had a return ticket to go back to NYC for New Year’s Eve. Because if I had had to turn right back around, I likely would have just made the trip one-way!

After being treated like a big jerk at the Consulate in NY (again), I was granted a valid scientist visa. Part of the obnoxious ambiance at that consulate could stem from the fact that its employees are French. (The madame there tried to call me up to the window to pick up my visa, with a “Mees-Stor.” After several confused guys (misters) stepped forward, she yelled at me: “MEES-STOR!!! that ees your name eesn’t it?!" Well, it’s more like “Miss _ _ _ _ _SSSSS”, but how could I argue??) So the French people do not want anyone invading their country. I understand this behavior is not French specific but applies to all consulates. For reasons I do not understand, maybe they are trying to compensate for all the generosity granted at centers such as Ellis Island.

That consulate confusion, compounded with the bureaucracies here (as a wise friend pointd out, “bureaucracy” is a French word), have thwarted the way to residency permit. At the time of this posting, I am waiting for my temporary permit, with which I may apply for the real macoy, only after passing a rather demoralizing ( I am warned) medical exam. I may be legal by May. The silver lining is that I will truly appreciate my permit and, moreover, have new-found respect for my family (really all of our families) and friends who have struggled much more than I have to move to a new land.