Tuesday, 27 September 2005
Not Just Another (French) Face
There. Take a look at them, the pictures below (click to enlarge).
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See them? That card, my carte de résident, represents five years, two months, nineteen days, and some change. I'm now officially a permanent resident of France.
I was more than a little worried, since my income has declined year-on-year during the five requisite years of renewing my temporary carte de séjour. My employment and financial circumstances were mostly beyond my control, but I still expected for them to put my application for permanent residency in a bad light. The clucking sounds that the fonctionnaire made while I submitted my latest papers, one month ago, did little to encourage me. In fact, I was flat out pessimistic about my chances after that.
Today's visit started with a ten-minute wait while the clerk, who sells official stamps (a centralized proof of payment), attempted to start her cash register. Not exactly an auspicious start. But we joked while she rang up my purchase, and parted with a smile. Yet another friendly face greeted me at the visa office - the same office as I'd visited in August.
A half an hour's "ten minute wait" later, and the clerk who'd received me summoned me into her cubicle. (This was a good sign. My last visit had me paired with a woman who readily admitted that she really would have preferred coffee and the morning off instead of working on cases like mine.) Immediately after I entered her cubicle, the woman had to excuse herself for others at the front desk. But, she said, not to worry. "Everything is fine."
And sure enough, it was. Upon her return, she slid a card to me for the "honor and the pleasure" of reviewing my information printed on its multicolored surface. This was it! My permanent residency card: Good for ten years. No more saving pages in my passport for full-page carte de séjour stickers. No more amassing piles of paperwork. No more hours spent waiting for a ten-minute appointment. No more annual visits to renew my carte de séjour.
It's times like this that I'm in love again: In love with France, in love with Paris, in love with the possibilities. Gone for a while are the galères of a foreigner's life in Paris, hurdles that I have to jump through which are simply minor obstacles - if anything at all - for natives.
I remember it clearly: five years ago, when I went to pick up my first carte de séjour (the time leading up to that is a story in itself, but not for now). A young woman, American if I remember right, was waiting when I arrived and we chatted after I sat down for my own wait. In time, she was called up to get her titre de séjour.
And, as it turned out, it wasn't for a carte de séjour like mine, but a carte de résident. With a radiant look on her face, she thanked each of the fonctionnaires behind the counter. Then she turned, said her goodbyes and good wishes to me, and left to share the great news with her French husband.
I'll never forget that look she had - there, at the very beginning of my own story here in France. Today, I was able walk out of the same building with the same glowing smile.
It feels just as great as it looks.