Once we get to Prague, by law Tim is required within three business days to register with the "foreigner police" and apply for permanent residency. This must be done in person. There is only one office which takes care of this, and, from what I hear, the queue is horrendous. Sometimes up to 800 people wait to be helped in one day by handful of office clerks most of whom only speak Czech. Those same office clerks process paperwork and provide information. It often happens that one queues for hours to just ask a question and learns s/he has been in the wrong queue all along. Apparently people start lining up on the street at 10 pm and wait nine plus hours to make sure they aren't turned away the following day! Talk about bureaucracy in a post-Communist country!
I googled "cizinecka policie" or foreigner police and came across this video illustrating what happens when the door finally opens in the morning. Poor Tim! I hope we can use my dad's clout as a Senator to somehow expedite the process and avoid this hell.
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4 comments:
oh my word. That's just ridiculous. It's like a miserable slow motion carnival ride with none of the thrill. That's just horrendous.
I had to register with the police when I lived in England. I went into this empty office, walked up to the window, and began to wait. Several minutes went by. Gradually, big working-class English guys started drifting into the office, queueing up behind me. Time went by. Still no officer at the window. The mood got a little surly. The big blokes were getting angry. More people were packing into the office now. Crowded. Big, vaguely dangerous looking guys. We're all waiting, and nobody appears, and we're all getting pissed. After about 15 minutes of this, somebody in back says "Oi, didja push the button?"
At this point, I notice a button by the window.
I push it. An efficient police officer appears instantly. A disgusted noise bubbles up from all over the room. I get my papers taken care of and slink out of the office, desperately avoiding any eye contact with anyone.
I was oddly transfixed by the indignity of it all. Did Tim really have to do that?
Fortunately my dad, the Senator, can pull some strings. We will be meeting with the chief of foreigner police in person instead of playing cattle ranch with the regular folk. Lucky us!
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