The Lord gave us a remarkably calm morning. Since all our paperwork was together and we didn't have to pack for a long trip, there wasn't much to do. We ate a big breakfast so that we wouldn't have to buy lunch, then headed out of Spartanburg about 10:15 a.m.
We arrived in Atlanta a couple hours early and sat in a Kroger Grocery's parking lot snacking on granola bars, using the store's free WiFi and watching two men dangle from ropes as they cleaned the windows on a skyscraper nearby. We arrived on the 18th floor of the Marsh Building (where the consulate office is located) at 2:30 p.m., 15 minutes early. It was a very small office with practically no ventilation. At one corner of the room was a solid glass window with a small slot through which to pass papers and a microphone/speaker with which to speak to the person on the other side.
There were two men waiting to be helped in front of us. I was called up at 3:10, and we finished up around 4 p.m. We were expecting to be ushered into a separate room for an "interview," but everything was done through the window. Since the website had said regarding the applications we were supposed to fill out "one per adult," we did not fill out visa applications for the children. When the man asked for the children's applications and we didn't have them, he said with a touch of curtness, "Well, they are human beings aren't they?" I wanted to respond that while they didn't all ways act the part, my children most certainly are human beings, and it was misleading information on his website that had caused this mistake! I didn't.
"There was a misunderstanding, and I'm really sorry."
He asked me if we had passport-sized pictures of the children, which we did. He then gave me two applications and told us to fill them out ,and he would attach the photos for us. By then we were so rattled that we made several mistakes on their applications and had to ask for new forms to start over! He gave us some whiteout instead, and we made the appropriate corrections. Then he made the needed photocopies of the forms for us even though there was a note on the wall that said the consulate could not make photocopies for any reason, but that you must go to the post office across the street. I pointed to it and said quietly to Ruth, "We've already been shown grace."
Our friend-behind-the-window then read in my documentation that I spoke French so he switched to that language to check me out. We stuck to French the rest of the time, and things seemed to go more smoothly after that. When he found out that Ruth spoke some French, he called her to the window so she could speak a sentence or two in French through the microphone as well.
It is my observation that in the American culture there is an inherent compulsion to make someone feel at ease. The exception might be when you're arrested (never been, by the way), but even in a governmental office, there is an effort to make some small talk and communicate on a friendly level. It may not be genuine, but some level of friendliness is typically to be expected in America. That same compulsion does not exist in many other cultures where the the difference between the one in authority and the one under authority is more pronounced. In those cultures, it is not a matter of being impolite or rude. It is simply a matter of being the one in authority. That's the way it was with our friend-behind-the-window. He wasn't rude or unkind. He was matter-of-fact. There was no "How are you?," no talk of the weather or how far we had to drive. Just, "Why do you want to go to France?" and "Your children are human beings aren't they?" To be more personal would have been inappropriate. Cultures are all different, and they don't all have to become American.
Our friend-behind-the-window didn't say anything about the rest of our paperwork, so we assume we had what was required. The biggest hurdle (yet to be overcome) came at the end. He pulled out a form and gave it to me, telling me that since we were going to France for religious purposes, there was a new requirement which demanded that we get an official (signed and stamped) invitation from the Protestant Federation of France. I know practically nothing about this federation except that I've heard they are a very liberal group. The churches of which I was a part in France were never associated with the Protestant Federation. All of a sudden, I'm told I have to be invited by a group which I doubt looks very kindly at the word "evangelical," much less "Baptist." But how do I explain that through the
microphone in French so that my friend-behind-the-window will understand? I decide not to try, but just to say OK. Once/if I get the needed signature and stamp, I have to mail it into the consulate. I was told I should expect it to take a month for the applications to be processed. We paid the non-refundable $132 fee for each visa application ($132 per human being that is), said good day and left. We enjoyed a nice supper in the Atlanta area with some of Ruth's relatives, Larry and Kristen Everson, before heading back to Spartanburg. We got home just after 11 p.m.
This morning (4/15) I filled out the required form and faxed it to the Protestant Federation office, along with additional letters explaining who I was and what I hope to do in France. Thank you so much for your prayers concerning yesterday's visit. Will you now please pray that God will give us favor with the Protestant office in Paris and that they will return the needed form with the crucial signature and stamp?
We arrived in Atlanta a couple hours early and sat in a Kroger Grocery's parking lot snacking on granola bars, using the store's free WiFi and watching two men dangle from ropes as they cleaned the windows on a skyscraper nearby. We arrived on the 18th floor of the Marsh Building (where the consulate office is located) at 2:30 p.m., 15 minutes early. It was a very small office with practically no ventilation. At one corner of the room was a solid glass window with a small slot through which to pass papers and a microphone/speaker with which to speak to the person on the other side.There were two men waiting to be helped in front of us. I was called up at 3:10, and we finished up around 4 p.m. We were expecting to be ushered into a separate room for an "interview," but everything was done through the window. Since the website had said regarding the applications we were supposed to fill out "one per adult," we did not fill out visa applications for the children. When the man asked for the children's applications and we didn't have them, he said with a touch of curtness, "Well, they are human beings aren't they?" I wanted to respond that while they didn't all ways act the part, my children most certainly are human beings, and it was misleading information on his website that had caused this mistake! I didn't.
"There was a misunderstanding, and I'm really sorry."
He asked me if we had passport-sized pictures of the children, which we did. He then gave me two applications and told us to fill them out ,and he would attach the photos for us. By then we were so rattled that we made several mistakes on their applications and had to ask for new forms to start over! He gave us some whiteout instead, and we made the appropriate corrections. Then he made the needed photocopies of the forms for us even though there was a note on the wall that said the consulate could not make photocopies for any reason, but that you must go to the post office across the street. I pointed to it and said quietly to Ruth, "We've already been shown grace."
Our friend-behind-the-window then read in my documentation that I spoke French so he switched to that language to check me out. We stuck to French the rest of the time, and things seemed to go more smoothly after that. When he found out that Ruth spoke some French, he called her to the window so she could speak a sentence or two in French through the microphone as well.
It is my observation that in the American culture there is an inherent compulsion to make someone feel at ease. The exception might be when you're arrested (never been, by the way), but even in a governmental office, there is an effort to make some small talk and communicate on a friendly level. It may not be genuine, but some level of friendliness is typically to be expected in America. That same compulsion does not exist in many other cultures where the the difference between the one in authority and the one under authority is more pronounced. In those cultures, it is not a matter of being impolite or rude. It is simply a matter of being the one in authority. That's the way it was with our friend-behind-the-window. He wasn't rude or unkind. He was matter-of-fact. There was no "How are you?," no talk of the weather or how far we had to drive. Just, "Why do you want to go to France?" and "Your children are human beings aren't they?" To be more personal would have been inappropriate. Cultures are all different, and they don't all have to become American.
Our friend-behind-the-window didn't say anything about the rest of our paperwork, so we assume we had what was required. The biggest hurdle (yet to be overcome) came at the end. He pulled out a form and gave it to me, telling me that since we were going to France for religious purposes, there was a new requirement which demanded that we get an official (signed and stamped) invitation from the Protestant Federation of France. I know practically nothing about this federation except that I've heard they are a very liberal group. The churches of which I was a part in France were never associated with the Protestant Federation. All of a sudden, I'm told I have to be invited by a group which I doubt looks very kindly at the word "evangelical," much less "Baptist." But how do I explain that through the
microphone in French so that my friend-behind-the-window will understand? I decide not to try, but just to say OK. Once/if I get the needed signature and stamp, I have to mail it into the consulate. I was told I should expect it to take a month for the applications to be processed. We paid the non-refundable $132 fee for each visa application ($132 per human being that is), said good day and left. We enjoyed a nice supper in the Atlanta area with some of Ruth's relatives, Larry and Kristen Everson, before heading back to Spartanburg. We got home just after 11 p.m.This morning (4/15) I filled out the required form and faxed it to the Protestant Federation office, along with additional letters explaining who I was and what I hope to do in France. Thank you so much for your prayers concerning yesterday's visit. Will you now please pray that God will give us favor with the Protestant office in Paris and that they will return the needed form with the crucial signature and stamp?
1 comment:
I really enjoyed reading this. I guess I will be adding you guys to my daily blog list. ;-) We will be praying for a quick response from the Protestant Federation.
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