Swallowing cats to catch flies

You know that nursery rhythm where the old lady swallows a fly, and then swallows a cat to catch the fly, then a dog to catch the cat, etc.?Well,  I’m starting to feel a little like that old lady.

A couple of days ago, Thomas and I discovered a nice public library. But in order for me to get a card, I need to provide proof of address (in addition to paying €18 and showing my U.S. passport). But I can’t provide this proof of address until I register with the Munich (something all German citizens and residents must do when they change cities).

But, I can’t register with the city until I complete the residence card process. And before I can do that, I need to pass either a Göthe Institut A1 language exam or show proof of my university degrees. Sounds simple enough except that the next open exam isn’t for at least another week or two and proof of my studies is currently travelling though Germany – without me.

You see, we’re still waiting on our household goods to be shipped to Munich. Yeah...here’s how that’s been going:

• Exactly two months ago today, the moving company came, picked up our boxes and furniture and trucked it down to Chicago where they (hopefully) packed it all tightly into a ship container.
• About four weeks ago, we had no idea if our container was still cruising the Atlantic Ocean, sitting on a deserted island confusing the local fauna or somewhere in Germany.
• Three weeks ago, we were notified it had made it Bremen where it must clear customers. But in order to clear customs, they needed a detailed log of each box’s contents – in German.  Fortunately, we’d already done this in part for our records and the original transport company. So Thomas sat down one evening and painstakingly translated the 20 pages, itemizing everything we own in German.
• Last week we were told it finally cleared customs and that we had to pay a few hundred Euros in standard port fees. Ok, done. But since then, all’s been quiet on the northern front. I’m not sure if the container is still in Bremen or if a delivery man will pop by any minute. Guess I’d better change out of my Rocket Squirrel pajamas…just in case.

So that’s where I am. No university degrees, no residence card, no Munich registration, no library card. And the worst part? I really wanted to see if they had a copy of this book (yes, I’m judging it favorably by its cover alone):

Title Translation: Bring me the head of Nicolas.

Playing "clerk's pet"

Neighbors disagree about the proper location for dogs to relieve themselves

If I can stereotype here a little…Germans love rules, which is good because they have a lot. For example, there’s actually something called Ruhezeit (quiet time) where it’s forbidden hammer nails, mow the lawn or engage in other noise making activities. Although, sometimes I wish we had that here…especially when my apartment neighbor decides to serve tennis balls to our shared wall as I’m getting ready for bed.

I’ve apparently inherited this favorable disposition toward regulation from my family lineage. In fact, more than once, Thomas has told me that I take rules too seriously. Take this past Friday as an example. In preparation for our move, we had to complete several bureaucratic matters.

To get ready, I poured over the related government websites, ensuring I had all of the proper documentation. And in each case, I got “petted” (as Thomas would say) by the officiating clerk for following directions.

First we went to the Register of Deeds to request a few extra copies of our marriage certificate. You have to show ID (like your driver’s license) to verify your current address, but if it isn’t up-to-date, you can bring in a utility bill and another form of ID. So I did. Once I presented all of my information, the clerk thanked me for reading their website, adding that no ever does that. And when I told her I requesting the copies as I was moving out of the country she said she “really hoped” I would come back to Wisconsin. Wow. And who says government workers aren’t friendly? ;)

Next was the Secretary of State. I needed an apostil for our marriage certificate so I could later attain a residence permit in Germany. I laid out all of my information and documentation just as before. The clerk was very receptive, but I failed in one task: the envelope. I had brought in a stamped, self-addressed envelope, but it wasn’t large enough. My bureaucratic euphoria visibly began to dissipate. The clerk took pity on me and gave me an envelope to address and even told me they’d take care of the postage. Whew!

The last stop was updating the title of our car at the DMV (I paid it off a few months ago, but put off getting a new title). When I got to the window, I stated my case and had a copy of my marriage license (showing my name change) and original purchase receipt for the mileage record. Again, the clerk was very pleasant and complemented my preparedness, something I ‘m pretty sure amounts to a soldier’s medal of honor on the battle field. There was only one moment of awkwardness. He was having computer problems, and I nervously remarked that it must be because I’m from Arizona (not sure why I was uneasy…maybe it was his biblical-themed tie with the words “Revelations” on it). He laughed and proceeded to talk about the immigration issues there. It quickly became apparent to me that we were clearly on different sides there. But I didn’t dare let that show. This man held the final badge in my bureaucratic sash. After what seemed like an eternity, but was more like four minutes, I had my new title. Success!

Now, if only I can be equally victorious once we’re in Germany!