Yes!!! I finally got my resident permit done!!! But before I got too carried away, let me began the day by describing the morning. Here the sun stayed in the sky for a relatively shorter number of hours as compared to Singapore. By 8am I was already on my way to the bus stop and yet the sky was still dark. The moon was still brightly lit. As I passed by the examination hall, I saw students crowding in front of the board to look at their numbers. It reminded me of the days when I had exams in NTU SRC halls or in Nanyang Auditorium. Although that was just 3 months ago, it seemed like ages to me. It was kind of strange to see students rushing into the campus through the entrance while I was going the other direction. It is strange in the first place that a non-French speaking guy like me working in France.
The bus as usual came sharply at 755am and it was an enjoyable ride. The radio was playing countryside folk songs; soft and soothing, very appropriate music for morning commuters. And as I looked outside the window, it was still dark and I could see neon lights of bars blinking along the road. It was a sentimental moment for me for I was thinking of home at that time. I told myself that when I returned, I would never ever take things for granted and that includes my family. I just hoped that I remember what I said today.
I have to comment something on the roads here. There are quite a number of roundabouts in this city. In Singapore, I think now there are just 2 in use. Here, there were even 2 consecutive roundabouts! Also I noticed there were quite a handful people in wheelchairs, crossing the roads by themselves. Sometimes I do see that kind of electric wheelchair that Christopher Reeves used to use. Seldom have I seen that in Singapore and this reminded me of a coursemate back in NTU. I think his name is BaoChun. He is wheelchair-bounded and I heard the cause for his handicap was due to an accident when he was in SAF. To think that I am undergoing hardship here is really an overestimation when compared to what they have to go through everyday.
By 830am I had reached the prefecture and I was half an hour earlier than the opening hour. However, there were already 2 more people in front of me waiting. One of them was in Army uniform and had the same boots as I had! By the time it was 845am, there were quite a number of people outside. The army guy had smoked 3 cigarettes within that half an hour while I was shivering at a corner leaning against the wall. At 9am sharp, the barricade were dropped (hard to describe. It is kind of a gate that drops into the ground by mechanical means). There was just one door and so everyone tried to squeeze through it. Inside the building, a lady was there pressing the ticket machine and distributing the tickets to us. There were different tickets for different purposes.
In the end, I took the ticket “Nationale Sejour” which meant “Nationality Stay” and I was number 6 in the queue. So much for being the 3rd one to arrive there and waking up at 7 in the morning. Number 6 could meant that I have to wait for 2 hours depending on what requests the 6 people in front of me have. Don’t forget, there are also people who would just cut your queue. But as a quiet, timid, useless foreigner here, I just had to be happy that at least I got a ticket. So I waited obediently until it was my turn and it turned out that I just had to wait for an hour.
Having been here the 2nd time, I had a little bit more confidence and spoke in French to the lady who was very nice to me the first time I came, “Bonjour. Pardon, Je ne parles pas Francais.” (Good day. Sorry, I do not speak French). Although my pronunciation was not perfect, she still understood me. I handed her all the documents that I had prepared according to what she had told me the first time. As I waited for her to look through them, I had an uneasy feeling and was afraid that I might be rejected again. I really really wanted to do it right this time, and hoped that it’s the last time. She showed me the photocopy of my birth certificate and said that she needed it to be in French. What rubbish! How can a guy like me born in Singapore have a birth certificate that is in French?! She might as well ask me to convert my nationality to French. I kept my cool and told her that that was not possible and the original copy was in English. She went back to check with other people and in the end accepted that.
The rest of the procedures were smooth sailing, and feeling a bit more relaxed, I answered sometimes in a bit of French. Matthieu from IRISA said to me before that the administration in France is horribly slow. This I could not agree more as I saw the lady serving me typing my particulars with just 1 middle finger. In the end, I was just too relieved to get the “Carte du Sejour” (card of stay) and asked her whether that was all and whether I had to return again. She smiled and said no and I “Merci beaucoup” her. I left the place and boarded the bus and that was when I took a closer look at the card. At a corner, it said “valid till 27 April 2005”! Which meant I have to return to extend it! Well that would be a problem of the future. Perhaps by then my French would be already presentable. Anyway, my visa states that I could stay in France till July so I didn’t think this card is so important in the first place. Another discovery I made on the card was more shocking. At the nationality blank, it was printed “Singapourienne”! Spelled with double ‘n’ ‘e’! In French there is always a distinction between male and female among objects, even for non-living things. So “Singaporien” is meant for male while “Singapourienne” for female!!!
There are 3 possibilities for this error. 1. Either she typed wrongly. 2. Or it is a norm for official document to use the feminine noun. 3. Or she genuinely thought I was a girl. I certainly hoped it was the 2nd option and not the last one. I know I looked different from the rest of the men here who mostly wear a beard. My face was too clean for their standard. Anyway, I had no intention of going back and ask again because that meant I had to queue up again. I can actually cut queue like the others but of course I wouldn’t dare to do so.
So I returned to my office feeling that the mission was somewhat accomplished. After checking some emails (I now have 3 different mailboxes to check, one hotmail, one NTU mail and one IRISA mail), I broke for lunch. As usual, I was eating alone and not long after I saw Sebastien and his gang arrived and sat at the table opposite to mine. They “salut” me but did not ask me to join them. I wished Anatole would be back soon (he would be in 3 days time) so that I would have someone to have lunch with. The Iranian in my office doesn’t eat lunch. Anyway, today was Friday so probably he was at somewhere else praying. Here in the restaurant, I did see some Chinese but they all spoke fluent French. I guessed they are all French nationality, just that their skin color is that of a Chinese.
Before Anatole left last week, he asked me to come out with some ideas for a code and today I had not just came out with the idea, but got part of the code ready. I really hoped that it was correct and he would be impressed when he returned next Monday. Although there were still some problems in the code, I thought I had done enough and decided to find a Window platform so that I could upload my journals into the online blog. I asked the guys in the next room where I can find a Window machine and Julien showed me the way. Julien is a handsome French who speaks very good English. I probably had introduced him before. I wished he could discuss with me some English books that he might have read.
In the end, I could not log in the Window machine and gave up trying. Back to my office, I chatted awhile with some friends and Hui mentioned that he found out the price of TGV train ticket from Grenoble to Rennes and it was 80 euros! Super expensive, I thought. He thought of visiting me when he was free but I told him not to waste the money. Seriously, I did not think of visiting him. Not even Ryan who was working in Paris, which was quite near to me (still 2 hrs of train and 50 euros). I also did not think of sending postcards home unlike Hui, who had been finding the cheapest ways to call home. For me, I am happy with the Singtel reverse call service which costs $1 per min. Anyway, I would call home only once a week and every time, I only spoke to my mum for about 10 min. I felt that sometimes I was being too emotionless. Hui also asked me what I am planning to do this weekend and I said I would stay in my room. I actually did plan to visit the city every weekend but since I would be going there again on Monday to collect my bank card, I decided not to go in the end. Oh yes I forgot one thing. Last night while I was sleeping, there were some loud commotions along the corridor at around 2am. I thought perhaps there were gangsters here coming to collect protection money and was quite scared if they broke into my room. But I was just being paranoid then. Now at 730pm, the corridor was eerily quiet and I guessed Friday night was partying time for everyone, for most people I meant.
PS: I mixed up Julien Perret with Jean-Marie Houssay! Amended on 20 May after reading the journal.
The bus as usual came sharply at 755am and it was an enjoyable ride. The radio was playing countryside folk songs; soft and soothing, very appropriate music for morning commuters. And as I looked outside the window, it was still dark and I could see neon lights of bars blinking along the road. It was a sentimental moment for me for I was thinking of home at that time. I told myself that when I returned, I would never ever take things for granted and that includes my family. I just hoped that I remember what I said today.
I have to comment something on the roads here. There are quite a number of roundabouts in this city. In Singapore, I think now there are just 2 in use. Here, there were even 2 consecutive roundabouts! Also I noticed there were quite a handful people in wheelchairs, crossing the roads by themselves. Sometimes I do see that kind of electric wheelchair that Christopher Reeves used to use. Seldom have I seen that in Singapore and this reminded me of a coursemate back in NTU. I think his name is BaoChun. He is wheelchair-bounded and I heard the cause for his handicap was due to an accident when he was in SAF. To think that I am undergoing hardship here is really an overestimation when compared to what they have to go through everyday.
By 830am I had reached the prefecture and I was half an hour earlier than the opening hour. However, there were already 2 more people in front of me waiting. One of them was in Army uniform and had the same boots as I had! By the time it was 845am, there were quite a number of people outside. The army guy had smoked 3 cigarettes within that half an hour while I was shivering at a corner leaning against the wall. At 9am sharp, the barricade were dropped (hard to describe. It is kind of a gate that drops into the ground by mechanical means). There was just one door and so everyone tried to squeeze through it. Inside the building, a lady was there pressing the ticket machine and distributing the tickets to us. There were different tickets for different purposes.
In the end, I took the ticket “Nationale Sejour” which meant “Nationality Stay” and I was number 6 in the queue. So much for being the 3rd one to arrive there and waking up at 7 in the morning. Number 6 could meant that I have to wait for 2 hours depending on what requests the 6 people in front of me have. Don’t forget, there are also people who would just cut your queue. But as a quiet, timid, useless foreigner here, I just had to be happy that at least I got a ticket. So I waited obediently until it was my turn and it turned out that I just had to wait for an hour.
Having been here the 2nd time, I had a little bit more confidence and spoke in French to the lady who was very nice to me the first time I came, “Bonjour. Pardon, Je ne parles pas Francais.” (Good day. Sorry, I do not speak French). Although my pronunciation was not perfect, she still understood me. I handed her all the documents that I had prepared according to what she had told me the first time. As I waited for her to look through them, I had an uneasy feeling and was afraid that I might be rejected again. I really really wanted to do it right this time, and hoped that it’s the last time. She showed me the photocopy of my birth certificate and said that she needed it to be in French. What rubbish! How can a guy like me born in Singapore have a birth certificate that is in French?! She might as well ask me to convert my nationality to French. I kept my cool and told her that that was not possible and the original copy was in English. She went back to check with other people and in the end accepted that.
The rest of the procedures were smooth sailing, and feeling a bit more relaxed, I answered sometimes in a bit of French. Matthieu from IRISA said to me before that the administration in France is horribly slow. This I could not agree more as I saw the lady serving me typing my particulars with just 1 middle finger. In the end, I was just too relieved to get the “Carte du Sejour” (card of stay) and asked her whether that was all and whether I had to return again. She smiled and said no and I “Merci beaucoup” her. I left the place and boarded the bus and that was when I took a closer look at the card. At a corner, it said “valid till 27 April 2005”! Which meant I have to return to extend it! Well that would be a problem of the future. Perhaps by then my French would be already presentable. Anyway, my visa states that I could stay in France till July so I didn’t think this card is so important in the first place. Another discovery I made on the card was more shocking. At the nationality blank, it was printed “Singapourienne”! Spelled with double ‘n’ ‘e’! In French there is always a distinction between male and female among objects, even for non-living things. So “Singaporien” is meant for male while “Singapourienne” for female!!!
There are 3 possibilities for this error. 1. Either she typed wrongly. 2. Or it is a norm for official document to use the feminine noun. 3. Or she genuinely thought I was a girl. I certainly hoped it was the 2nd option and not the last one. I know I looked different from the rest of the men here who mostly wear a beard. My face was too clean for their standard. Anyway, I had no intention of going back and ask again because that meant I had to queue up again. I can actually cut queue like the others but of course I wouldn’t dare to do so.
So I returned to my office feeling that the mission was somewhat accomplished. After checking some emails (I now have 3 different mailboxes to check, one hotmail, one NTU mail and one IRISA mail), I broke for lunch. As usual, I was eating alone and not long after I saw Sebastien and his gang arrived and sat at the table opposite to mine. They “salut” me but did not ask me to join them. I wished Anatole would be back soon (he would be in 3 days time) so that I would have someone to have lunch with. The Iranian in my office doesn’t eat lunch. Anyway, today was Friday so probably he was at somewhere else praying. Here in the restaurant, I did see some Chinese but they all spoke fluent French. I guessed they are all French nationality, just that their skin color is that of a Chinese.
Before Anatole left last week, he asked me to come out with some ideas for a code and today I had not just came out with the idea, but got part of the code ready. I really hoped that it was correct and he would be impressed when he returned next Monday. Although there were still some problems in the code, I thought I had done enough and decided to find a Window platform so that I could upload my journals into the online blog. I asked the guys in the next room where I can find a Window machine and Julien showed me the way. Julien is a handsome French who speaks very good English. I probably had introduced him before. I wished he could discuss with me some English books that he might have read.
In the end, I could not log in the Window machine and gave up trying. Back to my office, I chatted awhile with some friends and Hui mentioned that he found out the price of TGV train ticket from Grenoble to Rennes and it was 80 euros! Super expensive, I thought. He thought of visiting me when he was free but I told him not to waste the money. Seriously, I did not think of visiting him. Not even Ryan who was working in Paris, which was quite near to me (still 2 hrs of train and 50 euros). I also did not think of sending postcards home unlike Hui, who had been finding the cheapest ways to call home. For me, I am happy with the Singtel reverse call service which costs $1 per min. Anyway, I would call home only once a week and every time, I only spoke to my mum for about 10 min. I felt that sometimes I was being too emotionless. Hui also asked me what I am planning to do this weekend and I said I would stay in my room. I actually did plan to visit the city every weekend but since I would be going there again on Monday to collect my bank card, I decided not to go in the end. Oh yes I forgot one thing. Last night while I was sleeping, there were some loud commotions along the corridor at around 2am. I thought perhaps there were gangsters here coming to collect protection money and was quite scared if they broke into my room. But I was just being paranoid then. Now at 730pm, the corridor was eerily quiet and I guessed Friday night was partying time for everyone, for most people I meant.
PS: I mixed up Julien Perret with Jean-Marie Houssay! Amended on 20 May after reading the journal.
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