Marty and I check our Map Apps and it looks like we can get there in about 45 minutes. Our appointment is at 9:30 so we give ourselves a few extra minutes and leave our house around 8:20 and bike down to the S-bahn. We missed the first train by seconds. So frustrating to be scrambling up the last stairs at the station when the train you want to be on is pulling away. We had to wait 9 minutes for the next one. We would have been in fine shape if the exact same thing hadn't happened as we were getting on the next train at the U-bahn station.
OK, now we were sweating it a bit. These official meetings are stressful enough without the added stress of us potentially being late. Actually, they don't stress me out nearly as much as Marty as I don't have to do anything but show up. I don't understand the grumpy German and he takes care of everything. He has to read the check list of items and documents that we need to bring beforehand. Figure out what needs to be signed and by whom. He has to figure out where we go and who we need to talk to. It isn't fun but I have to hand it to him he is a details guy and he arrives with a manila folder with all of our documents, extra passport photos, the whole works.
Once we get off the U-bahn station we start to run. As fast and as far as we can. It was about a half of a mile to the offices. There were huge signs on each turn pointing you in the right direction. Obviously they have a lot of people looking for this building. We arrive to this monstrosity of a building (or set of buildings) that looked like about 6 school buildings laying side by side. Each building was huge and several floors high. He asks a few people who are sitting behind sliding glass, frosted windows, for directions and they kindly point us in the right direction. When we arrive in the correct waiting room we are 6 minutes past our appointment. Crap!! We see numbers up on the screen corresponding to the office room you are expected to go to. Our given number was not up there. We don't know if this means we have not been called yet or if we have already been called and we missed our appointment. There were several other people waiting there as well. Picture the DMV times 1,000. We asked them about it and one girl said she had been there since early in the morning and was still waiting. She didn't have an appointment but said she has had appointments in the past and they are always behind schedule. The other couple said they have seen the numbers waiting on the screen for 10-15 minutes at the least. We were SIX minutes late. Surely there would be a grace period?
Marty tries to find someone to talk to and I wait in the room hoping our number shows up soon. And within minutes, BINGO. Our number shows up telling us we needed to go to room 207A. I find Marty and we then search out this room. Well, there was no 207A just 207. All of the doors in the hallway are closed but we knock at 207 and gently open the door slightly. There is a grumpy (go figure!) woman sitting at a desk. She barely looks up and says "Mr. Riemer?" Marty affirms we are the Riemers. She then asks if we we just showed up? If our number was called? Why are we coming in? All very grumpily, all without looking up from her computer or making any effort at engaging us. Marty tells her our number was on the screen so we came back. She huffs a bit more and then coldly says "we have rules here!" Which we are assuming she is referencing our tardiness.
She then mumbles a few things in German, asks Marty for the required documents. He has all of the appropriate passports and birth certificates our marriage certificate. Then she looks at our marriage license and says "well, this is an American marriage license. This will not do!" Um, excuse me? We were married in the USA! What type of marriage certificate was she looking for? Apparently we have to go to some apostille to have the Germans verify our marriage certificate before I can get a green card. She then collects all of our things. All of our passports, the kids birth certificates, our (UNGERMAN- how dare us!) marriage certificate. Tells us rather abruptly that we need to go back to the waiting room and wait and our number will come up again when she is done.
We head back to the waiting room and wait another 45 minutes or so. We notice the map of the building we are in and each floor is dedicated to a different group of people. Most floors include people from about 25-30 different countries. The floor we are on is for people from the US as well as most of the African countries and other European countries. There is an entire floor dedicated to people arriving from Turkey and Israel, leading me to believe these countries represent the bulk of Germany's (or at least Berlin's) immigrants.
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| My "fiction" or fake or temporary green card. |
Marty asks a few simple, clarifying questions. Where do find an apostille? Here in Berlin or from Seattle? She is back on her computer and doesn't look up. She is quite annoyed by us (or everyone, it is hard to tell) and huffs and says, "well, I don't have the address handy for you! Yes, of course, in Berlin!" She could NOT have been any bitchier or more condescending. She is clicking away on her computer as Marty asks a couple more simple questions. He speaks German but often is stumped by some of the legal jargon. She keeps clicking away and mid question, another family walks in the room. She doesn't answer Marty's question, doesn't look at us and simply says, "we are very backed up today, I need to move on" This next family comes in and she mumbles "to whom is this meeting pertaining to" It seemed that family didn't speak much German either and she had to repeat it several times (she continued to mumble and not try any harder to be understood) We walked out and shook our heads. German bureaucracy is really one for the books. I honestly don't know how people do this who do not know the language. Who actually NEED to work to pay the bills. I am in a very fortunate position in that I just want to work and that I actually don't need to. I don't know how the system works in the US but I am gaining new sympathies for immigrants and refugees all over the world every single day! We have everything going for us and it is still HARD!
After being denied my green card we decided that a falafel lunch at Jasmin was in order. We talked a lot about the potential of encountering grumpy people like this during our year in Germany and quite frankly it was one thing we were afraid of. Would a year of grumpiness at every turn sour us and make us what to return to the smiling USA? We really worried that this type of condescending bitchiness would be much more frequent. That has not been the case at all. It seems that the average Berliner is quite friendly once you engage with them even if they they have a scowl on their face before you approach them. The people in bureaucratic positions have nearly always been the exception to this observation. Thankfully we don't think we will need many more meetings like these. Apparently in addition to the apostille we also need to get both kids German birth certificates. Which seems odd to me since they weren't born here but apparently their German citizenship was based on Marty having citizenship. Now that we are living here we have to get them German birth certificates. So, hopefully 2 more of these highly uncomfortable meetings.... we shall see. I'm sure there will be something else that we don't know yet.
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