This morning the BF and I headed back to the mairie, clutching the magic notarized document from the US Consulate that stated that my first name did indeed have a space and that it was my ENTIRE FIRST NAME.
Upon entering the room, we could see our bitchy fonctionnaire lady, who happened to be facing the door, chatting with one of her colleagues. It was so obvious from her expression when she saw us walk in that she was thinking, "Ugh, it's them....AGAIN."
"Bonjour," she said when we arrived in front of her desk. Her enthusiasm was equivalent to that of someone about to shot by a firing squad. We sat down and brandished the notarized document from the consulate. "Here's that paper you requested the other day," said the BF. "It proves that we are right about her first name." Fonctionnaire Bitch stared at us somewhat blankly. "Right. Who are you, again? I have to get the dossier."
She came back about 5 minutes later with the dossier, looked quickly at the document from the consulate, and said, "Ok, so I'm going to delete the comma, but the space will have to stay in there, you know." "Yes, we know," said the BF. "All right, then, here you go," she said printing out a new copy of the banns for us. Indeed, the comma had miraculously disappeared, and obviously was not something that could not be deleted because of the software, as she had previously claimed.
Fonctionnaire lady went about it so calmly and smoothly the whole thing was over in about 5 minutes. I admit that I was a bit disappointed - I had secretly been hoping that she would have a reaction akin to a nervous breakdown: "Damn it! They actually got that document from their Embassy! Now I really have to change it! Damn damn damn!!!"
In other news, I checked online and it seems as though Heroes will indeed be available in a VM option on TV, which means that I can watch it in English!
I am sure the in-laws will be thrilled - they refuse to watch anything that is NOT dubbed into French, and I refuse to watch things that ARE dubbed into French.
Last time we all got into a heated argument because we were going to watch "Lord of War" on DVD and I wanted to watch it in English and they insisted on watching it in French. I was totally outnumbered, 5-1. I hope this time, maybe the SIL and her boyfriend (they are about 18 years old) will insist on watching it in English.
Probably not, though, to be honest.
As the BF never tires of telling me, "What the French People want is what they get, and they want to watch everything dubbed into French."
Anyway, my mom will be here in France in a couple of weeks, and since she doesn't speak a word of French (shocking, isn't it?) we will be forced to watch stuff on TV in the VM option, which means that the in-laws will be FORCED to watch things in (gasp!) English!
Friday, June 29, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
I Love the Embassy
To continue with the story from yesterday...
So I ran over to the U.S. Consular Section, which had formerly been in a lovely little hôtel particulier on the rue Saint-Florentin. I discovered that they had moved everything over to the Embassy grounds on the Avénue Gabriel (very, very chic), which made everything a bit complicated at first. The U.S. Embassy pretty much owns the entire block, so there are barricades everywhere and in order to continue down the street, you have to pass the first part of security. Then you go all the way down to almost the end of the street, which is the new Consular Section that handles U.S. Citizen Services and visas to the U.S.
I entered the Consular Section after a crazy security inspection into utter chaos - a huge mass of people huddled into a large room (albeit, a room with lots of vending machines and computers) and followed to signs that said "Please Take A Number At The Kiosk". The kiosk is this crazy high-tech thing that has options in French and English. There are three options at first, and you tap the screen for either "Immigrant Visa", "Non-Immigrant Visa", and "American Citizen Services". After I tapped the third menu, a whole new series of options popped up, among them "I Have Lost My Passport", "I Am Renewing My Passport", and "Notarial Services". I tapped "Notarial Services" and ended up with a numbered ticket: C880.
After what seemed like an excruciatingly long wait, I was called over to Window 15 and started screeching shrilly at the nice American lady behind the thick plexiglass. "Okay, so here's the deal: I'm getting married in July!" I yelled. "Um, okay..." said the consular lady, arching an eyebrow. "So, the mairie of the 16th says that my name is a first name and a middle name, but it's not, it's one name, but there's a space in between, is all, see? So they put a comma and separated my first name and they won't believe me when I told them it's my entire first name!" I continued hysterically, waving my birth certificate against the plexiglass. The consular lady nodded, with a bit of a smirk on her face. "Well, I have a couple of forms that might work: here is the "Attestation de l'identité et de nationalité américaine" (Certificate of Identity and Nationality) or this "Déclaration sur l'honneur" here that you can fill in and we can notarize for you. I think the first form should be fine," she said reassuringly. "Can I get them both?" I asked franticly. The consular lady frowned. "Yes, but you'll have to pay for them both." "Well, what if the crazy mairie people tell me that the first form is no good? Then I have to come back here and wait in line....AGAIN." The consular lady hesitated. "Hmm, you have a point. Okay." she said. Then she went and got some French guy who was working one of the American Citizen Service windows and asked him to write in French that my name was indeed one entire first name, that there was indeed a space, and that I had no middle name. The French guy looked confused at first. "Why am I writing this? This is ridiculous," he grumbled. "Look!" I screeched like a banshee, thrusting my birth certificate and the stupid attestation from the mairie with the comma in my name. I proceeded to scream the entire story to him through the plexiglass again, whereupon he laughed and shook his head, as if to say "Oh, those crazy fonctionnaires!"
After I paid my $30 (yes, at the U.S. Consulate, everything is in dollars) and another long wait, I had my 2 documents (for the price of one!) notarized, stamped, and signed.
Tomorrow we are off to the mairie to show stupid fonctionnaire my official notarized "whatever that thing is called from your Embassy."
I hope that ho will be satisfied.
So I ran over to the U.S. Consular Section, which had formerly been in a lovely little hôtel particulier on the rue Saint-Florentin. I discovered that they had moved everything over to the Embassy grounds on the Avénue Gabriel (very, very chic), which made everything a bit complicated at first. The U.S. Embassy pretty much owns the entire block, so there are barricades everywhere and in order to continue down the street, you have to pass the first part of security. Then you go all the way down to almost the end of the street, which is the new Consular Section that handles U.S. Citizen Services and visas to the U.S.
I entered the Consular Section after a crazy security inspection into utter chaos - a huge mass of people huddled into a large room (albeit, a room with lots of vending machines and computers) and followed to signs that said "Please Take A Number At The Kiosk". The kiosk is this crazy high-tech thing that has options in French and English. There are three options at first, and you tap the screen for either "Immigrant Visa", "Non-Immigrant Visa", and "American Citizen Services". After I tapped the third menu, a whole new series of options popped up, among them "I Have Lost My Passport", "I Am Renewing My Passport", and "Notarial Services". I tapped "Notarial Services" and ended up with a numbered ticket: C880.
After what seemed like an excruciatingly long wait, I was called over to Window 15 and started screeching shrilly at the nice American lady behind the thick plexiglass. "Okay, so here's the deal: I'm getting married in July!" I yelled. "Um, okay..." said the consular lady, arching an eyebrow. "So, the mairie of the 16th says that my name is a first name and a middle name, but it's not, it's one name, but there's a space in between, is all, see? So they put a comma and separated my first name and they won't believe me when I told them it's my entire first name!" I continued hysterically, waving my birth certificate against the plexiglass. The consular lady nodded, with a bit of a smirk on her face. "Well, I have a couple of forms that might work: here is the "Attestation de l'identité et de nationalité américaine" (Certificate of Identity and Nationality) or this "Déclaration sur l'honneur" here that you can fill in and we can notarize for you. I think the first form should be fine," she said reassuringly. "Can I get them both?" I asked franticly. The consular lady frowned. "Yes, but you'll have to pay for them both." "Well, what if the crazy mairie people tell me that the first form is no good? Then I have to come back here and wait in line....AGAIN." The consular lady hesitated. "Hmm, you have a point. Okay." she said. Then she went and got some French guy who was working one of the American Citizen Service windows and asked him to write in French that my name was indeed one entire first name, that there was indeed a space, and that I had no middle name. The French guy looked confused at first. "Why am I writing this? This is ridiculous," he grumbled. "Look!" I screeched like a banshee, thrusting my birth certificate and the stupid attestation from the mairie with the comma in my name. I proceeded to scream the entire story to him through the plexiglass again, whereupon he laughed and shook his head, as if to say "Oh, those crazy fonctionnaires!"
After I paid my $30 (yes, at the U.S. Consulate, everything is in dollars) and another long wait, I had my 2 documents (for the price of one!) notarized, stamped, and signed.
Tomorrow we are off to the mairie to show stupid fonctionnaire my official notarized "whatever that thing is called from your Embassy."
I hope that ho will be satisfied.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Proof that fonctionnaires are assholes on purpose
This morning the BF accompanied me to the mairie where we ended up confronted by the same mean fonctionnaire who handled our dossier for the wedding. The BF started off by explaining the problem of the comma, since my first name is Parisian New Yorker and NOT Parisian.
The fonctionnaire sat smugly facing us as though daring us to challenge her. She was all, "No, I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do for you because as I explained last time, your first name is Parisian and your middle name is New Yorker." "NO!" I screeched. "My first name is Parisian NewYorker! There just HAPPENS to be a space! Just because people in France don't do it doesn't mean other people in the world don't do it either!" "You know, I would take it out, but the computer won't let me because a space means that it is two first names." stated the fonctionnaire. "Ah!" I said, brandishing a copy of my original birth certificate. "See, it says here: Last Name, First Name, and Middle Name. Note that under "Middle name" I don't have "NewYorker" written down. NewYorker is part of the first name!" The fonctionnaire frowned. "Ah," she said, whipping out the certified French translation. "But, here in the translation, it says, "Nom, Prénom: Parisian NewYorker". This means that NewYorker is your middle name." "Ah!" I exclaimed. "But, if I had two first names, it would say, "Nom, PrénomS". So you see, because "prénom" is in the singular, this means that I have only one first name and this is ParisianNewYorker, not Parisian."
The BF tried to interject neutrally. "All we are saying, is that ParisianNewYorker is her entire first name, so if you could just get rid of the comma somehow, as this will cause a lot of problems later on when we have children, for example, and also for her paperwork in the U.S." The fonctionnaire folded her hands on the table. "Nope, sorry. Your first name is Parisian and your middle name is NewYorker." "Look," I said desperately. "Isn't there something you can do to help me? I mean, I don't know what else I can do to convince you that my entire first name is Parisian NewYorker." "Hmmmm," said the fonctionnaire thoughtfully. "Tell me, is it the space in the first name, or the comma that is upsetting you?" "The comma!" said the BF and I at the same time. "There is no comma! It's her entire first name, it just happens to have a space in between. Like Jean-Pierre except there is no dash." "Well, if it is just a problem with the comma, then I can totally take it out," said the fonctionnaire. "Really?" I asked, surprised. "Well, I can take it out, but only if your first name were Parisian NewYorker, but your first name is Parisian and your middle name is NewYorker, so I'm sorry, I cannot take it out."
The BF and I rolled our eyes. The whole situation was just going completely out of control, what with the fonctionnaire wielding her power over us and refusing to cooperate. I begged her to help me find a solution, whereupon she said, "Well, I suppose you could ask your embassy for a notarized document stating that Parisian NewYorker is your entire first name. Then maybe I can do something about the comma." The BF frowned. "Do embassies even do these kinds of documents? What is this document called, officially?" The fonctionnaire shrugged. "I have no idea. I don't know if this documents exists, so I cannot tell you the name of the document you must ask for." "But," protested the BF, "if this document does not exist, then what else can we do?" "I don't know," said the fonctionnaire calmly. "But I must have this document if you want me to get rid of the comma. Good day."
As we left the mairie the BF was in a huge rage. "How dare she!" he yelled on the street. "She was totally doing it on purpose. She is just absolutely convinced that she is correct about your first name and she won't listen to reason. Now you have to go chase down some non-existent notarized document from the US Embassy for no reason whatsoever other than to satisfy that ho. Not to mention, how much do you want to bet she will suddenly change her mind should we happen to get a hold of this document, and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, this document is not good enough?"
"Hmmm," I said. "Maybe the embassy will be very understanding."
The fonctionnaire sat smugly facing us as though daring us to challenge her. She was all, "No, I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do for you because as I explained last time, your first name is Parisian and your middle name is New Yorker." "NO!" I screeched. "My first name is Parisian NewYorker! There just HAPPENS to be a space! Just because people in France don't do it doesn't mean other people in the world don't do it either!" "You know, I would take it out, but the computer won't let me because a space means that it is two first names." stated the fonctionnaire. "Ah!" I said, brandishing a copy of my original birth certificate. "See, it says here: Last Name, First Name, and Middle Name. Note that under "Middle name" I don't have "NewYorker" written down. NewYorker is part of the first name!" The fonctionnaire frowned. "Ah," she said, whipping out the certified French translation. "But, here in the translation, it says, "Nom, Prénom: Parisian NewYorker". This means that NewYorker is your middle name." "Ah!" I exclaimed. "But, if I had two first names, it would say, "Nom, PrénomS". So you see, because "prénom" is in the singular, this means that I have only one first name and this is ParisianNewYorker, not Parisian."
The BF tried to interject neutrally. "All we are saying, is that ParisianNewYorker is her entire first name, so if you could just get rid of the comma somehow, as this will cause a lot of problems later on when we have children, for example, and also for her paperwork in the U.S." The fonctionnaire folded her hands on the table. "Nope, sorry. Your first name is Parisian and your middle name is NewYorker." "Look," I said desperately. "Isn't there something you can do to help me? I mean, I don't know what else I can do to convince you that my entire first name is Parisian NewYorker." "Hmmmm," said the fonctionnaire thoughtfully. "Tell me, is it the space in the first name, or the comma that is upsetting you?" "The comma!" said the BF and I at the same time. "There is no comma! It's her entire first name, it just happens to have a space in between. Like Jean-Pierre except there is no dash." "Well, if it is just a problem with the comma, then I can totally take it out," said the fonctionnaire. "Really?" I asked, surprised. "Well, I can take it out, but only if your first name were Parisian NewYorker, but your first name is Parisian and your middle name is NewYorker, so I'm sorry, I cannot take it out."
The BF and I rolled our eyes. The whole situation was just going completely out of control, what with the fonctionnaire wielding her power over us and refusing to cooperate. I begged her to help me find a solution, whereupon she said, "Well, I suppose you could ask your embassy for a notarized document stating that Parisian NewYorker is your entire first name. Then maybe I can do something about the comma." The BF frowned. "Do embassies even do these kinds of documents? What is this document called, officially?" The fonctionnaire shrugged. "I have no idea. I don't know if this documents exists, so I cannot tell you the name of the document you must ask for." "But," protested the BF, "if this document does not exist, then what else can we do?" "I don't know," said the fonctionnaire calmly. "But I must have this document if you want me to get rid of the comma. Good day."
As we left the mairie the BF was in a huge rage. "How dare she!" he yelled on the street. "She was totally doing it on purpose. She is just absolutely convinced that she is correct about your first name and she won't listen to reason. Now you have to go chase down some non-existent notarized document from the US Embassy for no reason whatsoever other than to satisfy that ho. Not to mention, how much do you want to bet she will suddenly change her mind should we happen to get a hold of this document, and say, "Oh, I'm sorry, this document is not good enough?"
"Hmmm," I said. "Maybe the embassy will be very understanding."
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Version originale
Here in France, things like movies and TV shows can be classified as the following: V.O. (version originale, meaning that it is shown it its original language); V.F. (version française, meaning that it has been dubbed into French - this is the most common thing here); V.O.S.T.F. (version originale sous-titré français, which means that it is shown in its original language with french subtitles), or the less common V.M. (version multi-langue, which is usually only available on television if you have this thing called the TNT - a sort of decoder like thing which gives you fourteen free channels, and occasionally allows you to watch a foreign movie in either of the previous three modes mentioned).
Lately, the French channel TF1 (the largest state-run channel) has been showing episodes of Grey's Anatomy in V.M. which for me means that I can watch it in all its original language glory! The thing is, I don't even like that show - frankly, I find all the characters to be extremely unlikeable and unrealistic, not to mention extremely whiny and pathetic. Take for example, the character of Addison Montgomery, the OB/GYN played by Kate Walsh. Addison is a really smart woman, and supposedly is one of the best in her field in the world, plus, she's also really pretty and looks like a young Catherine Deneuve. Yet for some reason, she just comes across as really desperate, as though she is not worth anything because she is always obsessing about men and sex and all that stuff.
Anyway, that marvelous show "Heroes" is arriving on TF1 this Saturday! The big mystery as of now is whether or not TF1 will also allow for VM with Heroes. I desperately have my fingers crossed that it will! Despite the fact that the show will be making its French debut this weekend, it is already a cult series because the young French people have been watching/downloading episodes over the internet...in V.O.! A quick glance at some of the TV forums here shows that a majority of the devoted French fans of Heroes are desperately hoping for the show to be available in English.
I personally find this to be wonderful. For a country that has some sort of weird thing with their language (there is always at least one talk show or documentary about how the French language is in danger of being ousted as the official international language - um, hello, but French has already been ousted, way back in like, 1945, so it's time to wake up and get with the program!), it is so great to see that young people really want and prefer to see movies and TV shows in their original languages!
This is really great because the in-laws, for example, NEVER watch ANYTHING in its original language. And when I say NEVER, I really mean, NEVER EVER. Once, FSIL brought over "The Aviator" on DVD to watch that weekend and I made a HUGE fuss about us all watching it in English with the subtitles on and finally the in-laws gave in (but only because they had already watched it dubbed in French). The in-laws sighed with resignation as the opening credits started, then the MIL made a remark about how at least now she could finally hear what Leonardo Di Caprio's real voice sounded like. I remember being totally stunned to realize that she has never heard a non-French actor's real voice before!
I personally just hate watching things that are dubbed into French. I will never forget that time that I watched "Fargo" dubbed into French. I had never seen it before, but everyone told me it was such a great movie, and that it was really funny. Unfortunately, this humor did not come across AT ALL in French and I quickly lost interest. Now I don't even want to see it in English, just because I am so traumatized by how horrible the movie was in French. Plus, everytime I watch something dubbed into French on TV here, I spend the vast majority of my time staring intently at the actor's lips to figure out what they are really saying - it's unbelievably irritating when the lips that are moving are not actually saying the words being heard.
Lately, the French channel TF1 (the largest state-run channel) has been showing episodes of Grey's Anatomy in V.M. which for me means that I can watch it in all its original language glory! The thing is, I don't even like that show - frankly, I find all the characters to be extremely unlikeable and unrealistic, not to mention extremely whiny and pathetic. Take for example, the character of Addison Montgomery, the OB/GYN played by Kate Walsh. Addison is a really smart woman, and supposedly is one of the best in her field in the world, plus, she's also really pretty and looks like a young Catherine Deneuve. Yet for some reason, she just comes across as really desperate, as though she is not worth anything because she is always obsessing about men and sex and all that stuff.
Anyway, that marvelous show "Heroes" is arriving on TF1 this Saturday! The big mystery as of now is whether or not TF1 will also allow for VM with Heroes. I desperately have my fingers crossed that it will! Despite the fact that the show will be making its French debut this weekend, it is already a cult series because the young French people have been watching/downloading episodes over the internet...in V.O.! A quick glance at some of the TV forums here shows that a majority of the devoted French fans of Heroes are desperately hoping for the show to be available in English.
I personally find this to be wonderful. For a country that has some sort of weird thing with their language (there is always at least one talk show or documentary about how the French language is in danger of being ousted as the official international language - um, hello, but French has already been ousted, way back in like, 1945, so it's time to wake up and get with the program!), it is so great to see that young people really want and prefer to see movies and TV shows in their original languages!
This is really great because the in-laws, for example, NEVER watch ANYTHING in its original language. And when I say NEVER, I really mean, NEVER EVER. Once, FSIL brought over "The Aviator" on DVD to watch that weekend and I made a HUGE fuss about us all watching it in English with the subtitles on and finally the in-laws gave in (but only because they had already watched it dubbed in French). The in-laws sighed with resignation as the opening credits started, then the MIL made a remark about how at least now she could finally hear what Leonardo Di Caprio's real voice sounded like. I remember being totally stunned to realize that she has never heard a non-French actor's real voice before!
I personally just hate watching things that are dubbed into French. I will never forget that time that I watched "Fargo" dubbed into French. I had never seen it before, but everyone told me it was such a great movie, and that it was really funny. Unfortunately, this humor did not come across AT ALL in French and I quickly lost interest. Now I don't even want to see it in English, just because I am so traumatized by how horrible the movie was in French. Plus, everytime I watch something dubbed into French on TV here, I spend the vast majority of my time staring intently at the actor's lips to figure out what they are really saying - it's unbelievably irritating when the lips that are moving are not actually saying the words being heard.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Administrative Nightmare!
On Monday, I went to renew my carte de séjour. It went pretty smoothly - the BF and I have an appointment to pick up the actual card after the wedding. Even though it will be in exactly the same category as the one I currently hold ("vie privée et familiale") I will need to bring proof of our marriage as that will change my "situation de famille", or family situation, meaning that instead of being Pacsed, we will be married.
One of the documents I needed to provide for this first step of renewal was a notarized document from the mairie, or city hall, saying that we were getting married. I noticed when I handed the document over at the renewal place that the mairie had made a mistake with my first name. (I will just use "parisiannewyorker" in place of my actual first name). So instead of "ParisianNewYorker", they had written "Parisian, New Yorker". The BF said I should probably stop by the mairie on my way home to see if they could correct it for me.
So I stopped by the mairie and was greeted by a fonctionnaire, to whom I explained the situation. "Ah," she said. "Well, let me get your dossier, and I'll see about that". She arrived minutes later with the dossier and looked at my birth certificate. The thing is, on my birth certificate, my first name does indeed have a space, so it is "Parisian NewYorker". (What can I say? My mom was at the forefront of weird baby names). "See?" I pointed out to the fonctionnaire. "There is no comma in between my name. Could you please delete it?" The fonctionnaire looked and said, "Ah, yes. Well, let me get on the computer and try to fix it." She sat down and I guess she started looking up my file when another fonctionnaire passed by and was all "Hey, whatcha doing?" This same fonctionnaire then said, "Oh, I did this dossier. You can't get rid of the comma. I asked Guillaume and he said it was not possible." The other fonctionnaire then turned to me and said, "I'm sorry, but I cannot delete the comma in your first name." "Why not?" I asked, totally confused. "There is no comma in my name, can't you just delete it? It's a space, not a comma."
The fonctionnaire peered at me through her large glasses. "No, I cannot. You see, because there is a space in your first name, it counts as two different names, and the comma automatically goes in there. Nope, sorry, I can't change it, and it will appear this way on your marriage certificate." I stared disbelievingly at her. "What do you mean you can't delete it? I told you, there is no comma in my first name! It's not my first name AND middle name, it's my first name. What am I going to do when I renew my carte de séjour? They're going to say that the name on my marriage certificate doesn't match with all my other official documents."
"I just told you," the fonctionnaire said self-righteously. "Look, we base our documents on the birth certificates, not the passports. So, since there is a space, that means that it is a first name and a middle name. I'm sorry, but there is nothing I can do about the comma. I just cannot delete it, the computer won't let me." "Well, can't you just delete the space?" I asked desperately. "Look," I said, showing her my passport and carte de séjour. "There is no space between the two." "I just told you," the fonctionnaire repeated, "we base everything on the birth certificate. Now, if this presents a problem for you, what you have to do is go to the courthouse and ask for an official change of first name. I'll even give you the address of the courthouse where you have to go", she said, generously. "Look, I will even write down what you have to ask for: you must ask for a "recitification de prénom" and then they will change it for you. But you have to have a recent copy of your birth certificate and a recent official translation." "Well, can you give me back the originals I gave you of my birth certificate?" I asked. "It's a real hassle to get a new copy from the U.S. and it costs 180 euros for the translation." "No, these are mine," she said definitively. "I cannot give you back the originals." "What?" I said, all confused again. "I have to go to the courthouse and ask them to change my first name back to what it is originally just because you supposedly can't delete a comma that is not even supposed to be there in the first place? This is YOUR mistake, not mine," I pointed out. The fonctionnaire stared at me, steely-faced. "No, I cannot change it. The computer says it is a first name and a middle name because of the space."
My head started spinning and aching. "I'm sorry," I said, "but let me get this straight: you can't delete a comma that is non-existent on my birth certificate, so you are going to add in a comma to separate my first name, and it will appear this way on my marriage certificate even though this comma is not on my birth certificate? So I have to pay another 200 euros to get a new birth certificate and translation to ask the court to change my first name to the way it normally is? Because you can't delete the comma that doesn't exist?" I started rubbing my forehead in an attempt to relieve the crushing pain accumulating in the space above my eyebrows. "Yes, this is correct," the fonctionnaire said curtly. "I am sorry, there is nothing I can do. It is not possible to change this. Good-bye."
I called the BF when I got home and explained the whole story. "What?!" he exclaimed angrily. "What do you mean, they can't delete the comma? They added it in there, it's not on your birth certificate!" "I know, I said, searching desperately for some Advil for my throbbing head. "But they said it is not possible to change it and we have to go to the courthouse to have it changed." "But that is going to cost us another 200 euros!" he exclaimed. "And", he added, "they are sending us to the courthouse to change your name as if you wanted to change your name officially to Marie or something like that." "Ugh," I whined. "There is nothing I can do about it anymore. I tried to argue, but you know how the fonctionnaires are! Plus, I'm a foreigner and thus stupid, and she can do whatever she wants. She had me beat before I even walked in there. YOU should go and talk to her." "What, you think she's going to be nice to ME?" asked the BF. "I don't stand a chance. The only time being French works to my advantage is when we go and take care of YOUR papers, because they are French fonctionnaires dealing with foreigners all day, so they are happy when a French person comes in. But the mairie deals with French people all day, so I don't have an advantage. They are just as mean to me as they are to you." "Well," I said, lying down on the couch, "you should know how to deal with them. You are French. You are one of them. YOU go talk to them." The BF grumbled. "Fine. We'll go next week. That way I can discuss with my mom what I should say; she's really good at dealing with fonctionnaires. Oh, and if my brother's girlfriend is there this weekend we can ask her too. She works at a mairie, so she can confirm if what they say is true, and if not, she can tell us what to say to them. But personally, I find it very odd that they can't just delete a comma. What kind of software does that?" "The French kind," I said, curtly. "I need to lie down quietly now. This whole thing has given me a migraine."
One of the documents I needed to provide for this first step of renewal was a notarized document from the mairie, or city hall, saying that we were getting married. I noticed when I handed the document over at the renewal place that the mairie had made a mistake with my first name. (I will just use "parisiannewyorker" in place of my actual first name). So instead of "ParisianNewYorker", they had written "Parisian, New Yorker". The BF said I should probably stop by the mairie on my way home to see if they could correct it for me.
So I stopped by the mairie and was greeted by a fonctionnaire, to whom I explained the situation. "Ah," she said. "Well, let me get your dossier, and I'll see about that". She arrived minutes later with the dossier and looked at my birth certificate. The thing is, on my birth certificate, my first name does indeed have a space, so it is "Parisian NewYorker". (What can I say? My mom was at the forefront of weird baby names). "See?" I pointed out to the fonctionnaire. "There is no comma in between my name. Could you please delete it?" The fonctionnaire looked and said, "Ah, yes. Well, let me get on the computer and try to fix it." She sat down and I guess she started looking up my file when another fonctionnaire passed by and was all "Hey, whatcha doing?" This same fonctionnaire then said, "Oh, I did this dossier. You can't get rid of the comma. I asked Guillaume and he said it was not possible." The other fonctionnaire then turned to me and said, "I'm sorry, but I cannot delete the comma in your first name." "Why not?" I asked, totally confused. "There is no comma in my name, can't you just delete it? It's a space, not a comma."
The fonctionnaire peered at me through her large glasses. "No, I cannot. You see, because there is a space in your first name, it counts as two different names, and the comma automatically goes in there. Nope, sorry, I can't change it, and it will appear this way on your marriage certificate." I stared disbelievingly at her. "What do you mean you can't delete it? I told you, there is no comma in my first name! It's not my first name AND middle name, it's my first name. What am I going to do when I renew my carte de séjour? They're going to say that the name on my marriage certificate doesn't match with all my other official documents."
"I just told you," the fonctionnaire said self-righteously. "Look, we base our documents on the birth certificates, not the passports. So, since there is a space, that means that it is a first name and a middle name. I'm sorry, but there is nothing I can do about the comma. I just cannot delete it, the computer won't let me." "Well, can't you just delete the space?" I asked desperately. "Look," I said, showing her my passport and carte de séjour. "There is no space between the two." "I just told you," the fonctionnaire repeated, "we base everything on the birth certificate. Now, if this presents a problem for you, what you have to do is go to the courthouse and ask for an official change of first name. I'll even give you the address of the courthouse where you have to go", she said, generously. "Look, I will even write down what you have to ask for: you must ask for a "recitification de prénom" and then they will change it for you. But you have to have a recent copy of your birth certificate and a recent official translation." "Well, can you give me back the originals I gave you of my birth certificate?" I asked. "It's a real hassle to get a new copy from the U.S. and it costs 180 euros for the translation." "No, these are mine," she said definitively. "I cannot give you back the originals." "What?" I said, all confused again. "I have to go to the courthouse and ask them to change my first name back to what it is originally just because you supposedly can't delete a comma that is not even supposed to be there in the first place? This is YOUR mistake, not mine," I pointed out. The fonctionnaire stared at me, steely-faced. "No, I cannot change it. The computer says it is a first name and a middle name because of the space."
My head started spinning and aching. "I'm sorry," I said, "but let me get this straight: you can't delete a comma that is non-existent on my birth certificate, so you are going to add in a comma to separate my first name, and it will appear this way on my marriage certificate even though this comma is not on my birth certificate? So I have to pay another 200 euros to get a new birth certificate and translation to ask the court to change my first name to the way it normally is? Because you can't delete the comma that doesn't exist?" I started rubbing my forehead in an attempt to relieve the crushing pain accumulating in the space above my eyebrows. "Yes, this is correct," the fonctionnaire said curtly. "I am sorry, there is nothing I can do. It is not possible to change this. Good-bye."
I called the BF when I got home and explained the whole story. "What?!" he exclaimed angrily. "What do you mean, they can't delete the comma? They added it in there, it's not on your birth certificate!" "I know, I said, searching desperately for some Advil for my throbbing head. "But they said it is not possible to change it and we have to go to the courthouse to have it changed." "But that is going to cost us another 200 euros!" he exclaimed. "And", he added, "they are sending us to the courthouse to change your name as if you wanted to change your name officially to Marie or something like that." "Ugh," I whined. "There is nothing I can do about it anymore. I tried to argue, but you know how the fonctionnaires are! Plus, I'm a foreigner and thus stupid, and she can do whatever she wants. She had me beat before I even walked in there. YOU should go and talk to her." "What, you think she's going to be nice to ME?" asked the BF. "I don't stand a chance. The only time being French works to my advantage is when we go and take care of YOUR papers, because they are French fonctionnaires dealing with foreigners all day, so they are happy when a French person comes in. But the mairie deals with French people all day, so I don't have an advantage. They are just as mean to me as they are to you." "Well," I said, lying down on the couch, "you should know how to deal with them. You are French. You are one of them. YOU go talk to them." The BF grumbled. "Fine. We'll go next week. That way I can discuss with my mom what I should say; she's really good at dealing with fonctionnaires. Oh, and if my brother's girlfriend is there this weekend we can ask her too. She works at a mairie, so she can confirm if what they say is true, and if not, she can tell us what to say to them. But personally, I find it very odd that they can't just delete a comma. What kind of software does that?" "The French kind," I said, curtly. "I need to lie down quietly now. This whole thing has given me a migraine."
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Tex-Mex in France
Last week, I managed to drag the BF over to Susan's Place, a Tex-Mex restaurant right near our apartment.
As I mentioned in a previous post, Susan's Place used to be in the 5th arrondissement, but has since relocated over here to the 16th.
In an attempt to satisfy my crazy taco cravings, I ordered the "Mexican Plate", which, according to the menu and the waiter, consisted of enchiladas, tacos, chili, and rice.
Unfortunately, it turned out to actually consist of ONE taco, ONE enchilada, a TEENY cup of chili, and a bit of rice with lettuce and a tomato.
All for 15 euros (8 million USD).
The food was okay. Not great, not bad, just ok.
According to a newspaper clipping pasted on the front window of the restaurant, Susan used to be a fashion designer, whose work took her all over the world, and it was back in the late 1980's that she went to New York and had Tex-Mex cuisine for the first time.
Maybe that is the problem?
As I mentioned in a previous post, Susan's Place used to be in the 5th arrondissement, but has since relocated over here to the 16th.
In an attempt to satisfy my crazy taco cravings, I ordered the "Mexican Plate", which, according to the menu and the waiter, consisted of enchiladas, tacos, chili, and rice.
Unfortunately, it turned out to actually consist of ONE taco, ONE enchilada, a TEENY cup of chili, and a bit of rice with lettuce and a tomato.
All for 15 euros (8 million USD).
The food was okay. Not great, not bad, just ok.
According to a newspaper clipping pasted on the front window of the restaurant, Susan used to be a fashion designer, whose work took her all over the world, and it was back in the late 1980's that she went to New York and had Tex-Mex cuisine for the first time.
Maybe that is the problem?
Friday, June 8, 2007
Your money isn't good enough
Yesterday, I went to the Marché St-Pierre in the 18th arrondissement of Paris. This is where most of the fabric stores are clustered, and so I headed over there because I forgot to buy some nude-colored silk chiffon to use under my wedding dress. (I bought some really nice off-white silk chiffon in New York at $18 a yard, but it is really really sheer and transparent even if I use two layers, but it completely slipped in my mind while I was at the fabric store in New York to buy some nude colored chiffon too).
I climbed up the stairs at Dreyfus, one of the larger fabric stores, and headed over the Bridal/Silk Chiffon section. The salesperson completely ignored me despite the fact that I was standing there for about 5 minutes and there was NO ONE around. Finally, I cleared my throat and offered "Bonjour".
The salesman peered at me through his glasses and said all dubiously "Bonjour" in the same manner as one would say "What the hell do you want?" I asked him if he could show me the silk chiffons behind the counter, the light nude color and the dark nude color. Sighing heavily the entire time, the salesman picked them up and brought them over, and I proceeded to whip out a tiny scrap of my wedding dress fabric I had brought with me, to see how the nudes would look underneath. The salesman, watching me with his bespectacled hawk eyes, said, "Your fabric is off-white." I looked up curiously at him and he sighed heavily and was all "Your fabric. That scrap. Is. Off. White." It was my turn to sigh heavily. "I know that," I said. "But I need a nude color chiffon to use underneath because my off-white chiffon is too transparent." The salesguy stared at me. Then he said, "We have the same exact chiffon downstairs for much cheaper. You should get it downstairs." I looked at the price of the nude silk chiffons, which were at 22 euros a meter. "Okay, but I want to look at THIS one," I said. The guy rolled his eyes, then said, as if he were going to hit me at any moment, "I. Said. Get. It. Downstairs. It's cheaper downstairs and it is the same off-white." "I. Know. But. I. Want. This. Color." I said. Then the salesguy picked up the silk chiffons I was looking at and put them on the shelf behind him. "No. I told you, that off-white chiffon is downstairs. 8 euros a meter. Polyester chiffon." I protested, "I told you, I want a nude color SILK chiffon, not poly. It's for my wedding dress." The guy completely ignored me and walked away.
I mean, how rude is that?
In a similar incident, the BF and I were having drinks at a café when a large group of German tourists showed up, obviously tired and hungry. They started to sit down at a large table set up outside and the owner came running out in a panic and made them leave because "c'est réservé". It was too bad, because there were at least 30 people in that group, and I bet the restaurant would have made a lot of money that night. Apparently German euros are not as good as French ones.
I climbed up the stairs at Dreyfus, one of the larger fabric stores, and headed over the Bridal/Silk Chiffon section. The salesperson completely ignored me despite the fact that I was standing there for about 5 minutes and there was NO ONE around. Finally, I cleared my throat and offered "Bonjour".
The salesman peered at me through his glasses and said all dubiously "Bonjour" in the same manner as one would say "What the hell do you want?" I asked him if he could show me the silk chiffons behind the counter, the light nude color and the dark nude color. Sighing heavily the entire time, the salesman picked them up and brought them over, and I proceeded to whip out a tiny scrap of my wedding dress fabric I had brought with me, to see how the nudes would look underneath. The salesman, watching me with his bespectacled hawk eyes, said, "Your fabric is off-white." I looked up curiously at him and he sighed heavily and was all "Your fabric. That scrap. Is. Off. White." It was my turn to sigh heavily. "I know that," I said. "But I need a nude color chiffon to use underneath because my off-white chiffon is too transparent." The salesguy stared at me. Then he said, "We have the same exact chiffon downstairs for much cheaper. You should get it downstairs." I looked at the price of the nude silk chiffons, which were at 22 euros a meter. "Okay, but I want to look at THIS one," I said. The guy rolled his eyes, then said, as if he were going to hit me at any moment, "I. Said. Get. It. Downstairs. It's cheaper downstairs and it is the same off-white." "I. Know. But. I. Want. This. Color." I said. Then the salesguy picked up the silk chiffons I was looking at and put them on the shelf behind him. "No. I told you, that off-white chiffon is downstairs. 8 euros a meter. Polyester chiffon." I protested, "I told you, I want a nude color SILK chiffon, not poly. It's for my wedding dress." The guy completely ignored me and walked away.
I mean, how rude is that?
In a similar incident, the BF and I were having drinks at a café when a large group of German tourists showed up, obviously tired and hungry. They started to sit down at a large table set up outside and the owner came running out in a panic and made them leave because "c'est réservé". It was too bad, because there were at least 30 people in that group, and I bet the restaurant would have made a lot of money that night. Apparently German euros are not as good as French ones.
Things I Learned This Week
Here is a list of new things that I learned this week:
- It is totally abnormal and unnatural for a non-French person to not speak French.
- All Jewish people eat Kosher food.
- Americans do not believe in evolution. All Americans think that the world was created by God. This means that all Americans are very, very religious.
- It is NOT normal to watch a movie in its original language. Everyone is supposed to watch them dubbed into French. Thus:
- The cruelest thing you can do to a French person is insist that they watch an American movie in English with French subtitles.
- The euros of a non-French person are not as good as the euros of a French person.
- American women like being fat. They spend their time fattening up. The fatter, the better.
- On the contrary, French women are very skinny. They spend their time losing weight. Obviously, this also means:
- It is better to be anorexic than it is to be super fat.
- The French are a very sporty people. So sporty and athletic that French athletes are always medal contenders in every single sport. French athletes are a threat to athletes who are from countries that always win medals - like the U.S., Russia, China, Japan....
- It is perfectly fine for the French to offer citizenship to a foreign athlete so they can compete for France. But it is not okay when America does the same thing.
- People from Guadeloupe and Martinique are only really considered French when they happen to be top athletes.
- If you are a français de souche (meaning you have 100% French bloodlines) then you are automatically superior to everyone else in the world.
- American athletes are always medal contenders in sports not because they work hard and like to win, but because there are lots of people in our country.
- It is considered very odd if you do not have a minimum of 5 weeks of paid vacation in your job.
- When receiving foreign friends in France, it is normal and expected to let them deal with everything themselves - you are not supposed to do stuff like pick them up from the airport, or drive them places and show them the sights. But if you receive a French person in a foreign country, then you are expected to take very good care of them and chaperone them everywhere.
- Sarkozy is considered "The American President" here because he does stuff like get photographed in the press with his family, wears Prada, goes jogging, and shakes hands with foreign leaders - all things that only American presidents do, apparently.
- In the same manner, Cecilia Sarkozy (Nicolas's wife) uncannily resembles Jackie Kennedy Onassis in every possible way. (Because Jackie Kennedy also wore lots of Prada, had lots of kids, was previously married to a media mogul, and takes walks on the beach).
- It is totally abnormal and unnatural for a non-French person to not speak French.
- All Jewish people eat Kosher food.
- Americans do not believe in evolution. All Americans think that the world was created by God. This means that all Americans are very, very religious.
- It is NOT normal to watch a movie in its original language. Everyone is supposed to watch them dubbed into French. Thus:
- The cruelest thing you can do to a French person is insist that they watch an American movie in English with French subtitles.
- The euros of a non-French person are not as good as the euros of a French person.
- American women like being fat. They spend their time fattening up. The fatter, the better.
- On the contrary, French women are very skinny. They spend their time losing weight. Obviously, this also means:
- It is better to be anorexic than it is to be super fat.
- The French are a very sporty people. So sporty and athletic that French athletes are always medal contenders in every single sport. French athletes are a threat to athletes who are from countries that always win medals - like the U.S., Russia, China, Japan....
- It is perfectly fine for the French to offer citizenship to a foreign athlete so they can compete for France. But it is not okay when America does the same thing.
- People from Guadeloupe and Martinique are only really considered French when they happen to be top athletes.
- If you are a français de souche (meaning you have 100% French bloodlines) then you are automatically superior to everyone else in the world.
- American athletes are always medal contenders in sports not because they work hard and like to win, but because there are lots of people in our country.
- It is considered very odd if you do not have a minimum of 5 weeks of paid vacation in your job.
- When receiving foreign friends in France, it is normal and expected to let them deal with everything themselves - you are not supposed to do stuff like pick them up from the airport, or drive them places and show them the sights. But if you receive a French person in a foreign country, then you are expected to take very good care of them and chaperone them everywhere.
- Sarkozy is considered "The American President" here because he does stuff like get photographed in the press with his family, wears Prada, goes jogging, and shakes hands with foreign leaders - all things that only American presidents do, apparently.
- In the same manner, Cecilia Sarkozy (Nicolas's wife) uncannily resembles Jackie Kennedy Onassis in every possible way. (Because Jackie Kennedy also wore lots of Prada, had lots of kids, was previously married to a media mogul, and takes walks on the beach).
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Gainers???
Okay, so last night I was watching this TV show called "Le Droit de Savoir" or something similar (translation: "The Right to Know"). It's one of those pseudo-serious-intellectual news-y type show, if you know what I mean.
So last night's subject was eating disorders, and they talked about and interviewed all these anorexic and bulimic girls and did the requisite segment about models and model agencies (you know, with the mandatory former model who quit because she was making herself anorexic, etc etc etc) and then they finished the show with a segment about "gainers".
Apparently gainers are people who, instead of wanting to lose weight and becoming anorexic/bulimic, actually want to gain weight and lots of it too, with the idea that bigger is better. Of course, this scandalous new trend is exclusive to the U.S. and they spent the segment hanging around with 2 very large women and 1 not so large woman who is trying to become very large. It was hard to hear what the women were actually saying because they were being dubbed over in French as they were talking, but supposedly these people will eat everything with no restraint whatsoever, in order to become as fat as possible. The camera showed the ladies having breakfast - pancakes, bacon, eggs, and LOTS of butter.
Could someone please tell me if this trend ACTUALLY exists? I'm almost positive that if it does, it is really only a very small percentage of the population. This is because the other day, I was watching the news on TV here, and they did this segment about some new museum of natural history or evolution that had recently opened somewhere in the Midwest or the South. And somehow the French news crew managed to round up a couple that was SO stereotypically American - like the stupid Southerner/Midwestener that all French people think we are like - and naturally the couple had these crazy exaggerated accents and were all "Evolution? Naw, we don't believe in no evolution. Like, that's crazy, 'cause we don't "evolve" Naw, we was created bah God the Almighty". Then there was the voiceover afterwards in French: "Indeed, an entire 40% of ALL AMERICANS think evolution doesn't exist."
I think I understand now why the French have developed their crazy myths and stereotypes of Americans - the French news manages to grasp a hold of that one stereotypically "stupid American" type and then they exaggerate the way they say the numbers so everyone here thinks that ALL Americans are like that.
This is why I am almost convinced that they exaggerated the whole gainers trend. I'm willing to bet $100 that the large ladies were just all harmlessly "I'm curvy and proud of my big ass and if no one likes me this way, then too bad for them." (By the way, when they interviewed their "Expert Nutritionist/Doctors" the experts seemed much more outraged about people WANTING to gain weight than they did about the anorexics).
So last night's subject was eating disorders, and they talked about and interviewed all these anorexic and bulimic girls and did the requisite segment about models and model agencies (you know, with the mandatory former model who quit because she was making herself anorexic, etc etc etc) and then they finished the show with a segment about "gainers".
Apparently gainers are people who, instead of wanting to lose weight and becoming anorexic/bulimic, actually want to gain weight and lots of it too, with the idea that bigger is better. Of course, this scandalous new trend is exclusive to the U.S. and they spent the segment hanging around with 2 very large women and 1 not so large woman who is trying to become very large. It was hard to hear what the women were actually saying because they were being dubbed over in French as they were talking, but supposedly these people will eat everything with no restraint whatsoever, in order to become as fat as possible. The camera showed the ladies having breakfast - pancakes, bacon, eggs, and LOTS of butter.
Could someone please tell me if this trend ACTUALLY exists? I'm almost positive that if it does, it is really only a very small percentage of the population. This is because the other day, I was watching the news on TV here, and they did this segment about some new museum of natural history or evolution that had recently opened somewhere in the Midwest or the South. And somehow the French news crew managed to round up a couple that was SO stereotypically American - like the stupid Southerner/Midwestener that all French people think we are like - and naturally the couple had these crazy exaggerated accents and were all "Evolution? Naw, we don't believe in no evolution. Like, that's crazy, 'cause we don't "evolve" Naw, we was created bah God the Almighty". Then there was the voiceover afterwards in French: "Indeed, an entire 40% of ALL AMERICANS think evolution doesn't exist."
I think I understand now why the French have developed their crazy myths and stereotypes of Americans - the French news manages to grasp a hold of that one stereotypically "stupid American" type and then they exaggerate the way they say the numbers so everyone here thinks that ALL Americans are like that.
This is why I am almost convinced that they exaggerated the whole gainers trend. I'm willing to bet $100 that the large ladies were just all harmlessly "I'm curvy and proud of my big ass and if no one likes me this way, then too bad for them." (By the way, when they interviewed their "Expert Nutritionist/Doctors" the experts seemed much more outraged about people WANTING to gain weight than they did about the anorexics).
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