Today I set out bright and early to get my working permit from the Main D'Oeuvre Etrangere. The new location is quite close to our place, so it was a quick metro ride. The place opened at 9:00, and by the time I got there at 8:55 there was already a queue forming outside the closed doors. When we were let in (to a very nice office, I might add, complete with a logical numbering system, and comfortable waiting room), we all had to line up in front of the 'preaccueil' counter (pre-welcome). There was one man who sat there and basically went through everyone's dossiers before sending them away, or giving them a number. Not terribly efficient, but I guess it gets the job done. Anyway, he tells everyone to have their papers ready when they get up to the counter. I pull out my two letters and passport. Everyone else has these small filing cabinet sized folders full of what seemed like every peice of documentation they had ever gotten. By the time it was my turn, I had figured out that I probably didn't have enough stuff. Sure enough, I needed to have copies of all the pages in my passport, plus a self addressed stamped envelope.
So I headed back home, as I knew I had copies of my passport and envelopes. Turns out I only had a copy of the front page, and no local stamps, so I had to then go to the post office to get that all sorted out. I was back in line at the Main D'Oeuvre Etrangere by 10:00, and the line was growing. The gentleman at the counter had a great habit of just speaking loudly when someone obviously didn't understand what he was saying.
Twenty minutes later I had one of the coveted numbered tickets in my hand (243), and when the sign flashed 245, I went up and showed my ticket, assuming the agent had gotten the numbers wrong (silly me for assuming they had gotten something wrong!). I was the only one waiting for this desk (the Student desk, although I don't have a student visa), so it was obviously my turn. Our meeting started off well when he told me he had already called 243, where was I? This guy had literally just seen me at the preacceuil counter, and we had just walked around. When I was leaving, I realized that he just kept calling up new numbers, even though he was obviously much farther ahead than the numbers that the prewelcomer was giving out. Anyway, all my paperwork passed the test, and I am now allowed to work specific hours at both places, until a specific date. Hopefully that was the last hoop that I'll have to jump through for awhile!
On another, somewhat related, note, I got an email from my friend Alison, whose parents live in France. Her parents are also SG customers, and they have nicknamed the bank "Fermer en Generale" (Generally Closed). Seems appropriate. Erik also had a positive Canadian banking experience yesterday. He had to call CIBC to have money wired over here from his account, because we can't wait much longer for this international cheque to go through. He was so happy that the woman he talked to knew how to do her job! The money should be here in two days. What a relief!
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