Vivre Ensemble en France

Such was the title of the movie I had the privilege to watch the other afternoon.  Ed and I had taken a trip down to Marseille, about twenty minutes to the south of Aix-en-Provence.  It is the main port city in the southern portion of France and Ed and I spent the morning walking around the old port, watching fishermen mend their nets, smelling the remnants of the morning’s early morning fish market and listening as the vendors hawked their tours.  Of which Ed and I decided to take one up on the offer.  We rode an hour-long train around the old quarter of Marseille, accompanied by descriptions in French, English, German and Portuguese.  Cheesy, yes.  Informative, affirmative. The first translation into English let us know that, “after this tour, Marseille would no longer hide the secrets from us.”  We saw lots of interesting sights including some forts, tanks, churches, islands (including the Chateau d’If, where Alexandre Dumas wrote The Hunchback of Notre Dame), and interesting neighbourhoods.  But the really interesting stuff of the day was still to come. 

Several weeks ago, after finally completing all of our paperwork for the carte du sejour, we were feeling very proud of ourselves for making it through all of the bureaucratic hoops.  And then we received our summons in the mail.  It turned out that, while we were awaiting our carte du sejour we were required to have a medical examination, by the bureau of immigration.  But that was not all.  The letters very clearly stated that we also needed our vaccination records, to bring our eyeglasses with us, to have taken and brought a copy of our latest pulmonary radiology exam, and to purchase 340 Euro worth of special stamps to pay taxes (this is a lot of money!).  Ed’s letter stated all of this in about ten lines, mine in two pages.  On more careful scrutiny it turned out that I would need to attend an introductory session to my life here in France, pass a language competency exam, and a few other items.  We were told to plan on a half-day at the Bureau. 

After lining up some friends to pick up the boys after school, Ed and I made a touristy morning out of the day.  And then we headed over to the meetings.  Well, we arrived about half an hour ahead of the scheduled appointment at 1:30 to find that we were not the only ones with a 1:30 appointment.  There were a number of older people sitting in the few chairs in the entry hall, and so we filed in at the back of the group to wait our turn.  The doors were, of course, locked because it was still part of the mandatory two-hour lunch break.  As it got closer to 1:30, more and more people arrived.  But they went to the front of the line.  Why would one wait at the back when there is room at the front?  Finally at 1:28 several women arrived with keys and let everyone know that the doors would open in two minutes.  Sure enough, two minutes later the door was buzzed open and, amazingly, all those little old ladies in chairs were among the first to make it through the doors! 

Shoving our way up the stairs, everyone wanting to be the first to show their appointment papers to the ladies in the accueil, we were all shepherded into an empty room with a television.  All except for Ed, who was the first to be called in for his medical exam.  The rest of us unworthy immigrants had to sit through not just one screening, but two showings of the same film, Vivre Ensemble en France, a movie on a repeating cycle that described all of the rights and privileges we would now have as members of French society. 

After the second showing of the film, one of the bureaucrats came in and very kindly informed us that were now to wait as all of us were to see the same doctors in turn.  She also explained all of the additional requirements for the day, to which there were many questions and answers.  Next in line was a social worker who informed us that the adjustments as an immigrant were sometimes hard and confusing and he was willing and able to guide us through the process.  More questions, more answers, More people pointing out that s/he required an earlier doctor’s visit than the others because of reason X, Y or Z.  So I stepped out of the room and asked why I was still there when my husband was just about complete with his time there.  “Oh, who are you?... Oh, Madame Schatz… Thank you.  Go sit down please.”  Well, not one minute later my name was called and my appointment began. 

It turns out that Ed has a “scientific” visa or some such thing, which accords him all sorts of importance and speed in dealing with the bureaucracy.  Maybe we are less likely to stay for good, maybe we are considered a more “worthy” class of citizen, I don’t know.  I was just so relieved to be proceeding with my afternoon, and catching up with Ed, who had ALL of our paperwork. 

So, after being offered another pulmonary x-ray, I was taken in to the first doctor where I was weighed, measured and interrogated.  And that vaccination record which I had stupidly left behind in Canada?  Well, she just asked me to look at the list – had I had any of those vaccinations?  I admitted to being up-to-date and that was enough of an answer for her to cross them all off the list for me. Same thing with my eye exam… did I wear glasses or contacts?  Yes, for driving only.  OK.  Check.  On to the next doctor where I was asked to breathe.  And to have my blood pressure taken.  “Are you healthy?”  Yes.  OK.  And that was it. 

After another waiting period I was invited into the next room where I had the opportunity to turn in my language certificate.  All fine and dandy.  Did I want to have a work-related language competency interview?  No thank you, I do not plan on working in any paid capacity this year.  And came the doozy…

“On which dates will you be free?”  I’m not sure, what is available?  Well, she went on to offer a number of dates that coincided with our vacation in the Loire Valley.  No thank you, no thanks, ummm… how about in November.  It turns out that I will need to take a full-day formation civique, a course in French civics, in order to be officially processed for my carte du sejour.  Upon asking at the accueil, they admitted that my carte du sejour would be immediately available, even before I take the course.  So technically I could just skip it and get another letter inviting me to attend at another date in the future.  But I have to admit to having a morbid curiosity as to what is entailed in French civics.  So off to Marseille I will go again, next time for a full day of lessons.  But after that I should be fully “installe” in my life here in France.  Right??!!!