Monday, August 5, 2013

Passport Prosze

So lately I've been in the process of applying for my temporary stay card, it's basically like a long term visa except it's in card form. This has meant finally putting my big girl pants on and dealing with the Polish bureaucracy head on.
First off there's the application. It's five pages and written in Polish, English, and French...but it can only be answered in Polish. If for some reason you answer part of it using the wrong Polish word you'll hear about it when you go to turn it in. It's kind of strange to put a document in a language you can't answer it in.
Second, you have to basically do a scavenger hunt around the city, to collect things you need to complete the application, and then you need at minimum three copies of everything. So I spent one whole day going from the bank, to the health office, to another health office, to the bank again, and then to city hall. At city hall I found out that I was supposed to register my address when I moved last year, so I got a good telling off for that. Another fun fact, in Poland you have to go directly to the health insurance office and submit a form every month. This means filling out a piece of paper that I can't read, and then standing in line for an hour to submit the stupid thing- fun, fun.
Anyway, after pretty much running around like a chicken with my head cut off, I got the application submitted, everything was hunky dory. And then this morning at 8:30 my door bell was ringing. It took me a second to wake up, scrounge around for a hair tie, put the dog in the other room and then finally open the door. And who should it be? Why the police!!! I wasn't even dressed, I looked like I had just stepped out of a zombie apocalypse movie and I'm sure my apartment wasn't helping my case any! So then they ask to see my passport.
My passport that's easy I can do that. Problem is, apparently I can't. I spent five minutes searching my desk, my dresser, every folder I've ever used - no passport. Shit. Meanwhile, they stood at the door waiting for me to find this stupid little book, and I'm still half asleep and tearing my apartment apart. Finally I located a copy and they just took that. 
About ten minutes after they left I located my passport, it had gotten tucked into the case for my external hardrive while in my desk drawer where it normally is. I feel like G-d is having a good laugh at my expense sometimes. And I'm certain the police will be telling the other cops about this crazy scenario of the girl who had that wild, half asleep look in her eyes, and really bad breath as she searched furiously for her passport.
That being said, I've never heard of the police coming to check someones residence! I suppose I'm just a lucky person like that.  

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