Showing posts with label Cadam. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cadam. Show all posts

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Cadam Part 3...

This time thank goodness it wasn't me who had to brave the workers at Cadam, the main Prefecture.


James got a speeding ticket.  Crazy thing is we didn't know it until it came in the mail.  Just a bit over, but speeding none-the-less.  Soooooo, it seems that you have a time limit to pay the fine and you also get a point off your license.  But, the difficult part here, he doesn't have a French drivers license yet but the car is registered in France.  So, off to the main Prefecture he had to go.  


He had two things to do, change the address of the car's registration and change his license to a French one.  They're open til 2:30, he left at 11, so you'd think no problem in getting both done at the same visit.  Well, we forget sometimes that we live in France and everything takes 10x longer because everyone must have a job which means that each and every step is with a different person which also means another line.  Whew.  Example to follow.....


So first, J gets to the Prefecture and waits in Line #1 to lay out his reason for being there and for the Employee #1 to see if he has all the appropriate paperwork, ID, etc.  Employee #1 types madly into the computer, hands him some papers and sends him to Line #2.  Seems the change of address is free, but he still has to wait in Line #2 to "pay" and get a stamp that he's done so.  30 min later he is with Employee #2 who takes his paperwork, types some things into the computer, stamps his paper and sends him on.  Now, sitting in Line #3 he and the 42 people ahead of him hear a loud eerie sound and find that the entrance to the Prefecture is being closed by big black metal doors.  


A slight bit of panic is felt as everyone looks around at each other, unsure of what will happen next.  Nothing, except Employee #1 now closes the screen to her cubicle.  It's 1pm.  Wasn't this place open til 2:30??  Everyone sits quietly and patiently.  Suddenly loud banging is heard from the other side of the metal doors.  Ends up a guy went out to use his cell phone just before and is now locked out.  Sorry, too bad, you have to come back tomorrow.


Now, a woman is with Employee #3 and is getting into an argument because she's needing to change some paperwork for her husband but her husband isn't there in person; and on top of it the paper isn't signed by him.  So, the woman signs it for him.  Employee #3 tells her she can't do that, it's fraud.  The woman says, "Fine, take me to jail."  Much bantering goes back and forth, the crowd is on the woman's side.  The woman says..."but my husband works."  And the teller answers..."Madam, everyone works."  More bantering, and eventually she is asked to leave.  A few minutes later the police arrive and ask each teller if they called them.  Each say no.  Hmmmm.  


Then it's finally J's turn, he's the last person.  Address changed.  But, of course, he needs to come back to do the license part on another day.  Coz that's in another area with another group of Employees.  Tales to come, I'm sure!

Sunday, March 27, 2011

Tuna Casserole

This week has been a mishmosh of craziness.  Like a good casserole, filled with all kinds of things that all come together in one lovely satisfying meal. Ok, this weeks events may not have been satisfying or lovely, but all the events of this week were very educational regarding our move to a foreign country. Let me fill you in....


1.  We had an international moving company come to give us a quote on sending our belongings to France.  We love our couch and ottoman, it's big and comfy and the ottoman is a multitasker.  (See pic) Yes, we know they make these kinds of things in France, but we're partial to ours so we considered bringing the beast along with us. Along with Taylor's bed, a few shelving units and some boxes of kitchen stuff, books, and linens.  WELL, what a wake up call that was, a $13,600 wake up call.  If we re-bought all the stuff in France plus everything else we'd need to furnish a home we'd only spend about $10,000.  So, plan "B".  UPS will send small boxes at 20-30 pounds for about $100-$150.  So, we decided to be RUTHLESS (did you notice that ruthless is now in capitals!) and only take 10, yes 10 boxes. (we'll add one or two if in dire need)


MORAL: Either make sure you're being sent by your company so the move is paid for or say goodbye to your "things" and relish the idea of big shopping sprees on the other side.




2.  Taylor decided to try and leap over a small jungle gym at school and broke out his three front teeth.  When I entered the school to pick him up, unaware of the true damage, I was met with a line of school personnel.  Tip off that this was not just a little boo boo.  As we made our way to the Nurse's office, the Vice Principal said that the accident involved many teeth and I would probably need to consult a Dental Surgeon.  My heart sank and my mind raced, I didn't know a dental surgeon and if he needed one right away, what was I to do?  We had recently been to a new dentist near our house so I called them immediatley and they took us right in.  In the end he didn't need surgery, what looked like bone fragment hanging out of his gums was actually one of the teeth.  The whole sight was pretty gruesome but cleaned up well and in the end wasn't so severe.  But, it did make me realize that if we were in France I wouldn't know what to do or where to go or who to call.  (Note to readers...T is doing just fine!!)


MORAL:  As soon as you get to your new country, maybe even before, find the local doctors who speak English (cause if it's me on my own without James to translate then I'm in trouble with a French only Doc.) and meet them and get their numbers into your phone.  AngloInfo.com is a good place to start the search. AND know what number(s) to call for emergencies at any hour of the day.  When we were there this winter I didn't even know the number for the Police or the Fire Department. Pretty silly of me now that I look back on it. 




3.  Went to the French Consulate here in NYC to try and get a work permit.  I attempted a "Competencies and Talents" visa but was turned away.  Not for that visa in particular, but because supposedly as a wife of an EU citizen I don't need a work permit.  WHAT?????  Now I told Sami, my consultant at the French Consulate, all about my meeting with the lovely lady at Cadam in Nice, France.  He looked at me stunned and said he'd never heard of such a thing and that she didn't know her laws.  OK, now I'm confused.  Does anyone know the truth here???  So, another lady, the one he kept excusing himself to go and consult with regarding the info I was giving him, came out of hiding and backed him up.  She said to look up the EU agreement and see what it says.  Well, I found it.  It states very clearly that I do not need a special permit to work.  That I have all the same rights as my EU spouse.  I was hoping it would even say that I was NOT the junk in his trunk to show the nice lady at Cadam, but that particular phrase was no where to be found.  Darn.  Now, you'll just have to stay tuned to see if indeed this works on the workers at Cadam. (Note to readers...if you feel lost, read the post "I'm the Junk in His Trunk" to catch up on my visit to Cadam in search of a work permit)


MORAL:  When it comes to French policy and politics, nothing is as it seems.  Be ready for what you believe to be the truth to not actually be the truth. And so it seems that if you're feeling confused, you're doing everything right. Can someone say "run around?!" Next window please...


We invite you on our journey, the door is always open!!

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Monday, February 21, 2011

I'm the Junk in his Trunk...Cadam Part 1

Today we made the trek out to Cadam, the administrative offices, to get my Titre de Sejour (work permit, kind of like the American Green Card).  Well, we had a long talk with a managerial type woman at the counter upon entering, which is as far as we got, about what we needed, the process, etc. It didn't go as well as we had hoped or like the internet had informed us it would.  Many more documents were needed and those documents needed to be prepared in special ways that we had not done.  


Such as....copies of passport, both of ours, and not that old one you have James without a microchip - seems a lot of Portuguese are faking their way in (really?), my birth certificate, our marriage license, apartment lease, bank account, tax documents if you are not a salaried employee of a company, a utility or mobile phone bill, AND ALL TRANSLATED IN FRENCH. Because as she said..."The French, we protect our language", and don't forget to have all those documents officially stamped. 


And don't even think about trying to do this if you can't speak the language.  Thankfully I have James who speaks French very well.  Oh, and before any of this, James must declare himself at the Town Hall and register what he does for a living. Everyday I understand more and more the plight of those trying to come into America legally. 


So then the managerial lady proceeds to tell us that...


"You are whatever your husband is (how he's registered), he carries you with him.  If he's a salaried employee then you are, if he's a student then you are (how two students could support a family I'll never know), if he's an entrepreneur, then you are, etc.  She is in your luggage. (huh??)  She is whatever you are, so decide what you are wisely.  It can never be changed."  


Never??? I'm sure that part was lost in translation. Could the French laws really be this condescending or ancient?


So, if any of you ladies think you are going to be strong independent women in France, think again.  By being a non-French foreigner, you are just junk in someone's trunk.


How it all plays out in the end?.....stay tuned.  I won't be beaten that easily!  I WILL live and work here, I will, I will, I will!