For the first time in years, someone actually pronounced my name in the way that I mistakenly thought French people always did: Ezzère. It felt a bit weird. I’ve gotten so used to Ezzeur, that when people are having difficulty figuring out how to say it, I give them that to help (and to avoid some other unfortunately butchering). The worst of course is the occasional Alsatian Haether (both with it’s aggressive Germanic pronunciation and its accompanying frequent spelling mistake, such as that on my marriage certificate. Yeah, that’s right. Despite providing who-knows-how-many pieces of ID, loads of papers from myself and from the Canadian Embassy with my name on it (how I love bureaucracy, let me count the ways) the geniuses at City Hall spelled my name wrong on probably one of the most important legal documents I will ever have. Of course, nobody (including myself) noticed: who proofreads what they’re signing in the middle of their wedding ceremony, so we all (myself, Luc, and our 4 “witnesses”) signed a document that had Luc marrying some chick named Haether. That has since been corrected (or so I’m told – I’m not entirely sure how they could have corrected it seeing as how it was signed, and they never showed me the correction; they just provided with me with several “extraits” (which is used in France as a stand in for all such documents pretty much; they don’t give you certified photocopies like in Canada) on which my name was spelled correctly. So yeah, there are many me’s floating around this country apparently, although some come around more often than others. So all that to say that it was weird to “see” Ezzère again.
Nothing like a little bureaucracy after a long day of work
Tonight the “Direction Générale des Finances Publiques” got double the excitement from me: I filled out my tax return, and confirmed payment for the second third of my taxes (which they base on the previous year, so you’ve actually made two of three annual payments before you’ve even declared your income, then the third payment is increased or reduced to account for the differences). What I’m pretty impressed (with myself) about is that the payment confirmation is 10 days early, and my tax return is done nearly 2 months early. Nice change versus (if I remember correctly) two years ago, when I actually made my declaration a day or two after the deadline (but was very lucky that they didn’t apply the penalty, which is an extra 10% of your taxes!
Tax season in the land of frogs and cheese
Coming home for lunch today was bittersweet: I get to eat at home (cheaper, better, gets me out of the office for a bit make long days seem a little less long…), but my tax form arrived in the mail.
I continue to be duly impressed by the ease with which one files their taxes in France. For all the bureaucracy in this country, they make it very very easy to tell them how much you owe (or rather confirm it for them, because they already know) and to pay. My tax package consists of 2 double-sided pages with 2 numbers to fill in, from which I have maybe two calculations to do…which I don’t even have to do myself, because if I declare online, it does it for me. The online system is a bit of a pain the first time around (which was a couple of years for me) but once you’ve done it once, it’s ridiculously easy. Apparently they’ve even facilitated that first connection, according to the other double-sided 2-page insert that came with it.
The last (double-sided) piece of paper is a “personal” letter from the minister of something or other (where “something or other” translates as Budget, Public Accounts and Civil Service), explaining what they are doing to make paying taxes easier, what’s they’re doing to help the economy, and some other stuff, not the least of which is a 66% reduction in taxes for certain low-income households. I’m sure I don’t fit into that group, but I’m happy to read that nonetheless. On the back of the personal letter is the breakdown of government spending and government revenues. Despite the 103,8 billion euro deficit, there’s something satisfying about being told where they’re spending the money they’re asking for. More worrying, however, is that the third largest spending category (after teaching and research and “territorial collectivities” – whatever that means) is “other”, following by “debts and financial engagements”. If we got rid of those, we’d almost eliminate the deficit!
If you’re interested, the rest are defense, work/employment and solidarity/equality of chances, security and justice, the EU, ecology, sustainable development and housing, economic (uh) relaunching, and apparently loans to the automobile sector.
And I was proud of 8+8+7 (Day 29)
I managed 10+10+9 today, and was finished early this afternoon. This, of course, is nothing compared to the 114 that one of my colleagues did last night after climbing to finally get fully caught up after some slacking, but for me it’s pretty darn good 
Since finishing though (plus or minus an hour) I’ve been feeling dizzy. Related? Who knows. Probably not.
Interestingly (at least to me) I have my bi-annual appointment with the “médecin du travail” tomorrow (the government-appointed doctor that ensures that I’m in working condition once every two years). Worryingly (at least to me) I also have two vaccinations to be injected with tomorrow morning. I hope the dizziness passes.
As it is, it looks like I might have to miss Japanese class tonight (yet again, and there won’t be class for the next two weeks due to school holidays). I hate missing class, and I must be batting no better than .500 this term. Argh, says I.
Rejected (not that they’ll ever come out and say it)
Quite unintentionally, Thursday was once again reborn as bureaucracy day, as I had to go pick up my new “titre de séjour” (residence/work permit).
I was actually quite surprised to have received my self-addressed, stamped envelope at the end of last week, with the form letter telling me to go to the sous-prefecture to get it, in part because they had told me that there was a delay of several months, but also because I had applied to change my 1 year permit into a 10-year “titre de résidence”, which I figured would slow things further. Since the letter clearly said to pick up my “titre de séjour”, I was not surprised that it was just a one-year renewel, but they made absolutely no mention of my request at all. The most information I could get (the people are see are well removed from those that make the decisions anyway) was “you can ask again next year”. I can’t say I’m terribly surprised, but I am very disappointed.
It’s silly, because with a wedding in the works, my status will change anyway, but I really really wanted to get my papers because I’m a contributing member of society worthy of citizenship, not because I married into it. I’ll never forget the day, now years ago, that a guy stopped me on the street to ask me to read him the 2-sentence letter he had received from the préfecture confirming his new status, because he couldn’t read French. I’m not saying he shouldn’t have gotten status – I know nothing about this person or his situation, but why I’m not worthy in the eyes of the bureaucracy, I will never fully understand.
I hope one day they will realize that their attempts to discourage people from sticking around are counter-productive, and probably serve to discourage the type of immigrants that they might actually want to have around, while having no effect at all on those that couldn’t care less what the administration and its workers think of them or how many times they have to wait in line, or send letters, or go home for that one additional document.
Anyway, I will leave my frustration at that. I just needed to get it out.
How to potentially ruin a holiday without thinking (before it even starts)
Well actually, it’s the “without thinking” that’ll do it. As it is I put off my shopping wAAy too long, considering the fact that I can’t just show up at the door with stuff I bought hours before, which added a layer of stress that irritated me to no end, but this morning was the real killer: this time tomorrow I should be on my way to the airport to head to Bucharest and spend Christmas with family there. Where does the “no thinking” come in? Too much time and freedom travelling around here, that it didn’t occur to me until this morning to see if I needed a visa. In past travels, I have needed visas twice: Czech Republic and Turkey (although Turkey was all handled for me, since it was a business trip).
So with my stress level through the roof, I got online and went looking. Inevitably, the first information I came across was intended for Americans who, as it turns out, don’t need a visa, but this was little comfort for me since they don’t need one for the Czech Republic but Canadians do (or at least did when I was there a few years ago). I soon came across a partial sentence that put EU and Canadian citizens (among others) in the same group, which seemed like a good sign. Sure enough, a (totally unofficial) website started to put my mind at ease. Next I needed to find an official site that said the same. I found the list of country from whom nationals require a visa, and downloaded it nervously. Once open, I went straight for the search box, while Luc tried to calm me down, pointing out that the C’s were already on screen, and that there was nothing between Camaroon and Cape Verte. And yet here I am only partially reassured. I don’t need to ask how I didn’t think of such a thing: I’ve had a lot on my mind for the last while, travelling in Europe is generally a breeze (plus Romania is part of the EU now), and Canadians generally have it pretty easy getting into foreign countries, but it’s no excuse. Time for me to get back to preparing for trips weeks and months ahead.
Anytime the blood wants to head back towards my brain would be great: I have to be at work soon!
It’s that time of year again
Oh, you thought I meant Christmas? Well there is that, although this year I am so far from being on time with anything related to Christmas, I’m not sure I’ve even realized how far behind I am, but this time of year, for the last few, has also meant bureaucracy time. My residence/work permit is valid for one year, and must be renewed in January (for which I have to submit the papers in December). This renewal requires a minimum of two visits to the sous-préfecture: the first is to get the list of things I have to bring, and the second is to bring the things on the list (as well as the list itself). I suppose the “pick up the list” requirement is to cover the fact that the rules may have changed from one year to the next either in general, or relative to one’s own citizenship, or perhaps relative to one’s own situation, but for the past couple of years I have had to go in to pick up a list that is remarkably similar from year to year. Ok, fair enough, especially since next year my situation will be different, since this time next year I plan to be married to my favourite Frenchie (although rumour has to the bureaucracy surrounding that is nothing to smile about!).
Anyway, since I launched this blog to include some “pense-bêtes” (the elegant translation is “reminders”) for myself about this bureaucracy stuff, and potentially for others who might be in the same situation, here’s what I needed to renew my status:
- 3 photos (black and white on a white background): thankfully photo booths are EVERYwhere, and notably at the train station, thus available 24/7
- my passport and a photocopy of the page with my photo, name, passport number..
- my current carte de séjour / titre de séjour as well as a photocopy of both sides of it
- a “certificat de travail” from the company I work for, with my profession, salary and “weekly working hours”
- copies of my last three pay stubs (cultural aside: just about everyone is paid monthly, actually everyone that I know, which took some getting used it when you’re used to bi-weekly/semi-monthly, although those schemes are no more than a distant memory for me at this point)
- My electricity, gas, or land line bill (as a proof of address)
- a self-addressed stamped envelope
- 70€ of OMI stamps (special stamps that you by at the sous-préfecture or the préfecture for paying things administrative things like this…of which I had accidentally bought 140€ last year, so I was really really lucky that the price hadn’t changed or anything, so I could just give them the extra ones I bought last year!).
So that was the list for me, in my current situation, with my Canadian citizenship (although I’m not sure how much my nationality actual plays in). In total, the page has 31 items on it, so 8 doesn’t seem so bad, and I was actually quite prepared for most of them. Of course, next year it will most like be very different, but hey. At least I will have written about it.
After rereading my old emails (which I converted into the posts that are dated from 2003 to 2007 on this blog) I realise that it’s great to look back and see things through my eyes “at the time”, so I guess that this is what this post is really about.
Any, enough bureacracy. I have some serious Christmas shopping and planning to catch up on. Argh.
The last laugh
After years of disappointing (and sometimes outright terrible) service, I finally closed out my accounts with the bank that I started with days after I arrived in France. I was assured that there was no cost to close them (it’s actually illegal to make someone pay to close a bank account in France, but that has only been the case for a couple of years). As usual, they lied, or at least were not entirely truthful: when the money appeared in my other bank, the amount was mysteriously lower, but by strange amounts: they took over 4% of one account, and less than 0.5% of the other. In both relative and absolute terms, they took more from the account that had less. I don’t doubt that they would be able to explain it away with some fine print that they neglected to mention when I asked if I would be charged anything and they said “no”, and have not yet decided if I want to go in there for one last angry discussion (at which they have nothing to gain from appeasing me, since I will never EVER EVER bank at LCL again…I know, never say never). So welcome to the first public announcement that I am making about the fact that LCL, formerly known as Credit Lyonnais, should be avoided at all costs (and costs, there are aplenty!).
Ne prenez jamais des comptes chez LCL / Crédit Lyonnais : ils abusent sur les frais de tout, le service est abonimable, et ils vont limite jusqu’à mentir pour prendre quelques euros de plus ici et là.
So they may have gotten the last laugh with what they skimmed a few more euros off the top when they closed out my accounts, but with today’s web, they may not laugh for long. I am fairly sure that I’m not the only person that is willing to talk about my bad experience openly on the web.
Take the money and run
I’ve never been happy with the bank I signed up to upon arriving in France. At the time (since I was only going to be here for 5 months…although that was 14*5 months ago now…) I wouldn’t have signed up at all if it hadn’t been a requirement to receive rent assistance (that I never got anyway). Over the years they’ve annoyed me, overcharged me, and changed my banker 3 times (always to the newbie responsible for student accounts) and many a time I have vowed to change (like this incident: part one and part two). One of the first speed bumps (now a few years ago) was that banks could charge fees to close an account, which, on principle, I would have kicked and screamed about, but ultimately had to pay. That has since changed (by law)…
Many moons ago, I opened an account elsewhere, but continued to use my old account as my primary one, in part because I also have a savings account with a higher interest rate than the standard, that I didn’t want to touch. A few months passed by, and I switched out my pay to my other bank. Two weeks ago, I gave in my bank card (standard bank cards, which often double as visa’s for the purposes of being useful outside of France, but with no actually credit privileges, cost several euros a month just for the privilege). This week I got a letter from the (old) bank, inviting me to meet with my (new, again) banker, for a routine check-up or some such. Upon discovering that my savings account has probably already lost its privileges (due to the rules surrounding the higher interest rate) without them informing me, and that my other bank is now (thanks to a change in other rules – banking is exTREMEly regulated in France) offering similar rates on similar accounts, I went ahead and made that appointment to see my banker: little does she know this routine check-up will see the poor newbie losing a customer for good. Of course, I still have to make sure no more bills are being paid out of there and such, but such is the annoyance of bureaucracy.
I just can’t wait to walk away (but not too far), to my “new” bank, where my banker is helpful, the manager is great, the fees are lower, and everything just seems to work as it should. Thanks for nothing to the person that insisted I sign up with Bank A when I first arrived, because it was supposedly the best.
Return of bureaucracy day
Roughly this time 5 years ago, I started getting the hang of this bureaucracy thing, and even set aside a day when it was best to get stuff done (Thursday). While today was originally a day off for a long weekend away, the weather decided that we should really not spend a weekend in the mountains this time around. As a result, today became an unintentional bureaucracy day, with the list of things to get done growing steadily throughout the evening yesterday. The morning actually went pretty well, but the afternoon didn’t quite work out as planned: first stop, the sous-préfecture to get some information on what my next steps should be. I really didn’t understand what the guy told me though, and other than the fact that I should probably go back another day to talk to someone in another department, things are pretty unclear (I’d pick Thursday, just to get back into proper bureaucracy day traditions, but I’ll be out of Mulhouse for work on both of the next 2 Thursdays). The next stop was quick and easy: I’m all signed up to continue Spanish classes in a few weeks. The last two stops, though, really REALLY didn’t go as planned: we needed to update some stuff at two different banks, both of which have suddenly decided to close on Mondays (one of them used to be open all day, and the other in the afternoon only). What the? So rather than feeling good about getting a lot of stuff done, I’m ending the day annoyed. Grr.
