I know what you're thinking. If Paris is such a magical place, full of lights and pastries, why doesn't everyone just move there? Unfortunately, the French have anticipated this and taken the necessary precautions.
If you are staying in France for longer than three months (most study abroad programs are 3 1/2...coincidence?), you need to register with the immigration office upon arrival in Paris. One of the nice things about being on a study abroad program is that they tell you what paperwork to bring and then submit it for you. We handed in said paperwork during our orientation in Tours, and were assured that the immigration office would have our cards ready within two months, and that we were not technically allowed to travel outside of France before then.
I'm glad I did not obey said technicality, because five months later, our program director informed me that I was scheduled to go in for the last step in the visa process, the mandatory medical exam. Of course, after six weeks of free time, this appointment fell on the first day at my new internship. When I informed her of this problem, she suggested I take a late lunch break, as "Once you get there, they're very efficient. It shouldn't take more than 20 minutes." Foolishly, I believed her. After five months spent in this wondrously inefficient country, I believed her.
And so, I arrived at the office on Monday afternoon at precisely 2:00, only to find that the X-ray machine was broken, and things were running about 40 minutes behind. First, they collected several of my documents, as well as a stamp I had purchased prior to the appointment for 55 euros. This stamp had nothing to distinguish it from regular postage, which was highly disappointing. Because if I'm going to buy a 75 DOLLAR STAMP, it had better be made of solid gold and Berthillon ice cream.
I finally got into an exam room for an eye test, followed by more waiting. Then I was called into another room, where I was informed that I needed a chest X-ray. Since X-rays cannot see through clothes, or hospital gowns, and since nudity is second only to Camembert in French hearts, I was informed that I would need to take my top off for the doctors. Being a prudish American, I yelled something like, "What do you think will happen to your economy if I leave? DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY MACARONS I BOUGHT LAST WEEK??" Surprisingly, they remained unswayed by my pleas. So I was forced to expose myself. On the plus side, I know that I do not have tuberculosis. Because that was really keeping me up at night.
After that, it was back to the waiting room, then in to a third office. Here I was asked to provide my vaccination records, which, I might add, were not listed on any checklists I had received. I had brought along three other "required" documents which the office had specifically requested. But no, no one even wanted to look at those. They wanted my vaccination records, and it was only after I conveniently forgot how to speak French that they took pity on my confused, pathetic American self and signed off on my form anyway. Finally, it was back to the waiting room, where I was given a parting gift of a French-English healthcare handbook which told me not to drink more than two glasses of wine a day, to beware of pastries and to never leave my child in a room with an open window (whoops on all three counts).
So, to sum up, my morning consisted of:
-1 $75 dollar stamp
-3 doctors
-90 minutes in delays
and
-1 striptease
Why don't more people move to France?
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