Know what this is?

It's another post from me, only one week after my last one! I think congratulations are in order.

It's about time for a ridiculous story. I'd like to share a bit about my trip to the Bürgeramt (Citizens' Center) to apply for my VISA.

I was well prepared by all the foreigners I knew here, that the initial VISA application process could take a very, very long time, and be stressful as well. With all of that in mind, I marched to the office with a book, and duplicate copies of the six necessary application documents in hand. I found the office door that was meant for applicants whose last names begin with T-W, saw that there was no line, and gently knocked at the door. A friendly-looking gentleman waved me in and offered me a seat. He simply asked for my application, my passport and a copy of my passport, a letter of employment from my boss, my reason for wanting to live in Germany, and then congratulated me on my German.

(It's always dangerous when people do that, for two reasons:

One: though they may not know it, I'm usually waiting for the conversation to reach a certain point where my vocabulary is exhausted - this has rarely failed to happen - after which I just start making up words and get funny looks from people. It's awesome.

Two: I speak well enough, especially at the beginning of an encounter with a new person, that they speak at a quick tempo AND mumble, as though they completely expect me to be able to understand every word. The worst part is that most of the time, I pretend like I DO understand, even if I don't. Ridiculous. I know. Sometimes I even laugh when they laugh. Pathetic. I did this tonight, as a matter of fact!, attempting to hide the fact that I couldn't understand the mumbling. ALSO, I don't want to waste the compliment they've just given me... I like to keep the farce going. This has led to some entertaining conversations, as you might imagine. Lest you judge too harshly, I don't ALWAYS pretend. I try to guage my conversation partner's patience level, and let that be my guide. Sometimes it's just not worth it to ask someone every two minutes to speak more slowly.)

Anyway, he and I talked for a bit, and he seemed pleased to find out that I'm an opera singer (BIG difference between Europeans and most Americans - Europeans don't look at me like I have four heads when I tell them what I went to school for. It's wonderful!). He asked me to explain my position working with the church, how I'm paid, and then told me to wait outside. Five minutes later he came out with a receipt, and VERY QUICKLY said something about going to the cashier to pay the application fee. That's all I heard: "Kasse" and "bezahlen." "That's all then?" I asked. He mumbled something incomprehensible and smiled at me. Guess what I did? That's right. I smiled back, and pretended like I understood him. (Amazing, aren't I?)

I went downstairs to the cashier, paid the 20 Euro, and was swiftly on my way home.

IMPORTANT PART OF THE STORY HERE:

Not twenty yards away from the building, I called Leslie, my culture/language director, to tell her how EASY the whole process had been! She promptly ended my rejoicing by asking me what kind of temporary VISA they had given me. When I said they didn't give me one, I just had a receipt from the cashier, she asked me what they had stamped in my passport. One small problem... I didn't have my passport! The man never gave it back to me! "Kristi," Leslie said, "you were supposed to GO BACK TO HIS OFFICE after having paid the cashier to get your passport and your temporary VISA!" She was laughing pretty hard. :)

So that's what all his mumbling was about!

I dashed back to the building, ran back up to his office hoping he wouldn't notice how much time had elapsed since I had left for the cashier, and I exchanged the cashier's receipt for my passport and shiny official-looking temporary VISA. Then, as Leslie had reminded me to do, I wished him a happy holiday. He wished me the same.

Ah... the fun of living in a foreign culture and language.