August 22, 2012
Since returning from Scotland, I have been quite busy. When my visa was shipped to be a few months
ago, it was accompanied by a list of specific instructions about how to obtain
my official student residence card (believe it or not, my visa is only valid
for the first 3 months of my studies).
Within 30 days of my entry into Spain, I had to go to the Oficina de
Extranjeria (Foreigner’s Office) in Barcelona to register as a resident and
obtain my NIE (student card). After
walking a brisk 30 minutes to the Oficina de Extranjeria, I was told that I
needed to go to the office specific to my neighborhood. Luckily, they handed me a map and it was only
about a 15 minute walk away. After being
encouraged by the officer at the Oficina de Extranjeria that because I was
American, I would have my ID card that very day, I set off for my district
office with a spring in my step. After
my previous experiences with Spanish governmental bureaucracy while studying in
Salamanca, I should have known better than to be quite so hopeful. Upon arrival at my district’s foreign
registration office, I was asked if I had a long list of documents with me
(none of these documents, of course, was ever mentioned to me before). I took a picture of the sign listing all of
the required paperwork and told the officer that I would see him tomorrow.
The first thing on the list was to register with my specific
neighborhood’s Ajuntament (mayor’s office) to declare my residency and obtain a
certificate of residency from them.
Being as I had NO IDEA where this office was located (I am perhaps one
of the few people in my generation who does not own a smart phone), and the
fact that it was nearly 1 pm (all government offices are only open from 9-2
daily), I decided to call it a day and head home to do some make-up work from
the Catalan lessons I missed while in Scotland.
The next day, I looked up my neighborhood’s Ajuntament. Of course, it was a 45 minute walk away with
NEITHER trains, metros, or busses that would get me there any faster. It was really apart from the city (I live
right on the dividing line of Gracia – one of the most central neighborhoods of
the city – and Sarria/St. Gervasi – one of the furthest away from the city
center close to the mountains). So, with
my Google maps directions in hand, I headed off to find the Ajuntament. After about an hour of being hopelessly lost
in transit, I decided to ask some older people reading the paper on some
benches alongside the main road. Each
one that I asked informed me that I was, indeed, quite far away from where I
needed to be, and kindly directed me toward the Ajuntament. After 3 hours of walking in the sweltering
Barcelona heat and asking nearly half a dozen elderly members of my community,
I finally reached the Ajuntament. Within
15 minutes, I had my letter and an information packet about my new
neighborhood.
Armed with this information and being that is was only
11:30, I set off for the Oficina de Extranjeria. I had all but my passport sized photos and
photocopies of my passport and visa (I would do that on the way – I was
DETERMINED to get my NIE today). Sure
enough, one a block away from the Oficina de Extranjeria, I found a very nice
lady who helped me with my photocopies, passport sized photos, and even helped
me check over my paperwork to make sure it was filled out correctly (I had made
a few mistakes, and she even gave me new forms for free). The best (and quite possibly, most
embarrassing) part of my experience was when she told me, “Honey, there are
paper towels over there and a mirror if you want to wipe the sweat off your
face before I take you picture”.
MORTIFIED, yet grateful.
After this quick 10 minute stop-off, I headed back to the
Oficina de Extranjeria (it was only 12:30 – today was the day).
When I arrived at the gate, I was informed that there were
no more appointments for the day and that if I didn’t have a number, I would
not be granted access. The officer told
me to come back the next morning and suggested that I get there early (around 8
am) even though they don’t open until 9.
I went back early the next morning thinking I was being
smart for getting up so early and believing that I wouldn’t have any
problems. I waltzed through the gate and
was directed to a waiting room. When I
walked into the OUTDOOR waiting room, I almost couldn’t breathe. There were AT LEAST 100 other people ALREADY
THERE!!!!!! I got a sinking feeling in
my throat as I realized that this was going to take a while.
Finally about 9:30, an officer came out and started calling
numbers (I was number 113). I was lucky
enough to get in the main waiting room on the second round of numbers (he
called 60 people at a time). From there
I only had a mere 2 hour wait for a 10 minute appointment. I was fingerprinted, asked to sign a few
documents, and given a temporary NIE.
Yes, you heard me, a TEMPORARY NIE.
I will have to go to yet another government office at the end of
September to pick up my official NIE card.
Although this was a less than pleasant experience, it truly
made me appreciate everything that I have back at home; as well as the freedoms that I have (even
while abroad) as an American. Despite
the difficult nature of my immigration process, I know that it was far easier
for me, being American, than it is for the majority of immigrants here (I
witnessed some nasty encounters in the waiting room). I truly believe that everyone should live outside
of their home country for at least a year and experience what life is like as
an immigrant. I believe that it would
have a profound impact on the way that we treat immigrants in our own country
and the process to obtain legalization.
