A couple of weeks ago I posted that I had been given my permanent residency card, in the 'Dominican work ethic' thread, because of the dire bureaucratic ordeal involved.
Ken looked into his crystal ball and predicted that when I went to the JCE to get my cedula I would be confronted by the following scene:
"you will find yourself in a small room with about 8 employees sitting behind tables lined up along the walls. And that only one of these employees will really working. Most of the rest won't even be going through the motions"
Good thing I didn't cross your palm with silver, Ken! I certainly did find myself in a small room. There were about five employees, but hardly anyone was waiting to be processed, so I was seen to immediately. So far, so good.
BUT! Se fue la luz! BUT! Hay problemas con la planta! Oh no, just when I thought I was going to have a positive bureaucratic experience, fate intervenes. We all sat around in the gloom, waiting for the generator to be switched on.
You could not really blame the employees taking the opportunity to chat and gossip and eat their mid-morning snacks. In fact it was quite a generous use of their time, I thought. It would have been more annoying had they waited for the power and the air conditioning to come back before officially declaring their mid-morning break.
Eventually, the generator kicked in. I sat in front of the camera. Just as I was told to look into the lens - crash! The power went again. This sequence of events repeated itself no less than three times. But by midday I had my cedula de reidente permanente, valid until 2009.
Tonight as I celebrate this milestone, I'll consider the next logical step in the process, which is to become a citizen. The words of my first (Dominican) boss echo in my ears: "Ser Dominicano/a es muy chevere, pero no sirve para nada".
Chiri
Ken looked into his crystal ball and predicted that when I went to the JCE to get my cedula I would be confronted by the following scene:
"you will find yourself in a small room with about 8 employees sitting behind tables lined up along the walls. And that only one of these employees will really working. Most of the rest won't even be going through the motions"
Good thing I didn't cross your palm with silver, Ken! I certainly did find myself in a small room. There were about five employees, but hardly anyone was waiting to be processed, so I was seen to immediately. So far, so good.
BUT! Se fue la luz! BUT! Hay problemas con la planta! Oh no, just when I thought I was going to have a positive bureaucratic experience, fate intervenes. We all sat around in the gloom, waiting for the generator to be switched on.
You could not really blame the employees taking the opportunity to chat and gossip and eat their mid-morning snacks. In fact it was quite a generous use of their time, I thought. It would have been more annoying had they waited for the power and the air conditioning to come back before officially declaring their mid-morning break.
Eventually, the generator kicked in. I sat in front of the camera. Just as I was told to look into the lens - crash! The power went again. This sequence of events repeated itself no less than three times. But by midday I had my cedula de reidente permanente, valid until 2009.
Tonight as I celebrate this milestone, I'll consider the next logical step in the process, which is to become a citizen. The words of my first (Dominican) boss echo in my ears: "Ser Dominicano/a es muy chevere, pero no sirve para nada".
Chiri