The Foreigners' Authority. A magical government building with rooms and offices that must exist in some form in almost every country. As foreigners, Fritz and I needed to come to this building and register. The European Union has a policy that foreigners are only permitted to stay in the area for 90 out of every 180 days. You get in trouble if you stay longer, which usually results in being kicked out of the country, fined, and denied re-admittance. But if you have special permission from the German government and complete the thrilling bureaucratic process of registering with the Foreigners' Authority, you get to stay a bit longer.
The first week we arrived in Germany, Fritz and I obediently registered our apartment with the Housing Authority (all German residents must do this), and then headed down to the Foreigner's Authority to register our bodies. After standing in line for an hour, we got to the counter and were told to come back in three days after the Housing Authority had filed our apartment registration.
Three days later we returned, but again we were turned away at the front desk as it seemed our information still had not come through.
We returned the following day feeling confident that we'd be in the system. We stood in line again for an hour only to be told two things. First, we didn't have the materials we needed to complete the registration process. In addition to our passports, and the completed registration form, we needed proof of health insurance and a letter from the university sponsoring Fritz. Second, the Foreigners' Authority was having some technical issues and even if we did have all the right paperwork, we still would not be able to register today. We should email to make an appointment before coming back again.
Disheartened that hours of our lives had now been wasted at this place, we exited through the main double doors for the 3rd time, still without being registered.
Flash forward a few weeks. This past Friday, Fritz received an email from the Foreigners' Authority. They set an appointment for us: January 12th 2016. Grrrrrreat! (Please note the sarcasm here.)
By January 12th, we wouldn't even be in Frankfurt anymore. And we will be getting dangerously close to the 90 day mark when the Germans will be kicking us out of the country if we haven't successfully registered.
Fritz decided instead of RSVPing to the email, we would just show up without an appointment, yet again, at the Foreigners' Authority. Monday morning we found ourselves back on that all-too-familiar line, which seemed to get longer with each visit we made. After watching at least 60 people approach the front desk with mixed results, it was our turn.
The woman confirmed that we had all of the appropriate paperwork, but then delivered heartbreaking news: she only had one appointment slot left today for the department we needed.
One slot. Two of us. The math was not in our favor.
Even though we had only one ticket, we decided to take a chance in the hopes that someone would take pity on us and sneak us both in.
We navigated through white sterile hallways, across outdoor walkways, passed waiting rooms packed with fellow foreigners until we eventually came to our assigned waiting room.
Here we sat. We waited...
... and waited...
... and waited.
We waited for 3 hours, staring at a little screen as it ticked off one foreigner at a time. At one point in our waiting, we watched a worried-looking young man hustle down the hallway and knock on one of the closed office doors. In English he told the official that he had missed his appointment and could he please come now? In German, the official spoke in a loud, forceful voice repeating and gesturing until the now extremely anxious young man turned to a fellow foreigner to ask for a translation.
I also quietly turned to Fritz for an interpretation of what was going on. He said that the official was basically saying, "German is the language spoken in this office! If you missed your appointment, go outside and wait!"
I said a little prayer then that we wouldn't get this guy for our case. He didn't seem to be in a helpful mood.
Four hours had passed since arriving at this building and still, we waited. Until, finally, number 421 was called.
We entered door 67 where there was very clearly one chair for one person to sit. Fritz started to explain that we were together and that he was going to help me register, but before he could even get started the woman stopped him saying in very curt German, "First point. Back away from the desk. You stand over there." In Fritz's attempt to be friendly and personable, he had apparently encroached a bit too much on her personal space. Clearly we were off to a great start.
Meanwhile, I was doing my best to look as pleasant and amiable as possible in my ignorance of what was going on in a language I didn't understand. I just wanted so badly for this woman to help us register so we could be done with this thing and live without fear of deportation!
Once the boundaries of her office and personal body bubble had been clearly established, she asked for our papers. We showed her our American passports and our completed registration forms. She hastily tossed them back to us and indicated that we had missed a place for our signatures. She then asked for Fritz's letter from the university, which, she clarified, had better be written in German.
Luckily Fritz did have one letter from his advisor which he handed to her. I watched as this woman's demeanour changed in the middle of our meeting. She read the entire letter, and when she looked up from the paper she was smiling and said in German, "Well I think it would make sense to do both of you today since you are here together."
She proceeded to complete the registration for us and we walked out of her office with new stickers in our passports.
When we left the building, I asked Fritz what he had given to that woman to make her suddenly like us so much. He told me that it was the letter of recommendation written by his German advisor. Fritz was awarded a DAAD Scholarship, which is essentially an academic grant from German government and is the rough equivalent of an American Fulbright Scholarship.
The letter explains that Fritz is a PhD candidate from Cornell University and is doing groundbreaking research on private loans given to communist countries in the 70's and 80's, thus changing the course of the Cold War. She was impressed! And it did the job!
Thank goodness I roll with such an academic rock star! We are legal!
Celebratory pose outside the Foreigners' Authority Building
