Sep8 Written by:Kayle
9/8/2009 3:45 AM
Calvin was born in Harare, the capital of Zimbabwe, so when he was born, we were easily able to get all of his paperwork sorted out. The government registry of births and deaths is one block away from the hospital where Calvin was born so Mat was able to get his Zimbabwean birth certificate. Also the US Embassy is 2 blocks from the hospital, so we were then able to go to the Embassy as soon as I got out of the hospital with Calvin in order to register for his US birth certificate and passport. However, since Molly was born in Bulawayo, we knew we’d have to make a special trip to Harare in order to process her US birth certificate and passport (as baby and parents have to be at the Embassy in person when filling these forms out).
The first step is to get the Zimbabwean birth certificate, which has to be submitted in order to get her US birth certificate. I was told that I could go to the local hospital here with my hospital forms in order to get the birth certificate. So, when both children are napping (12:30-2:30pm), I headed over to the hospital. They looked at their watches and said that it was officially lunchtime (lunch is from 1-2pm here and everyone stops working!) so they couldn’t help me, but told me I needed my passport, my husband’s passport and our marriage certificate in order to fill out the paperwork. So I go back home and search the house for our marriage certificate. Find it! So two days later I go back to the hospital during the morning and had to take Molly with me. This time there is a line of about 3 people before me. Finally I make it through to the office, nurse Molly while the lady fills out the forms. Then she tells me that she can’t give us a Zimbabwean birth certificate since we are not permanent residents. The paperwork would have to be sent to Harare where they give Zimbabwean birth certificates to people like us: foreigners living here on a work permit. I tell her that I don’t want to send in the paperwork because it will take months to get it back. I asked her if we could take the paperwork in person to the Gov. Registry of births and deaths in Harare. She said we could, but that we’d need a cover letter in order to take it in person. She told me I had to go to the Gov. Registry of births and deaths in Bulawayo and go to a particular woman there who would write me a cover letter. OK, fine.
So the next day, over the afternoon naptime, I go to the Gov. Registry of births and deaths in Bulawayo and find the line I need to wait in which was several people long. By the time I finally got close to the front of the line, it was 1pm and all offices close for lunch. Instead of continuing to wait my place in line over lunch (so I don’t lose my spot in line), they force you to leave the building over lunch. So that means you come back at 2pm and wait forever again. So I go home and decide to come back the next day. I go back the next day during the morning with Calvin and the line is FOREVER long. I asked the woman at Counter #4 if there was any possibility that someone else could write the cover letter for me. NO! I had to see the lady with the long line. So I go home. How am I supposed to wait hours in a line when I have a toddler and a baby that needs to be nursed? So I came up with a plan. I decided to come in the morning and drop off Bonnie, my maid, to wait in line for me. Then after a few hours when she got to the front of the line, I came to the building with the children in the car to swap her places. When I finally went into this woman’s office, I felt like I had finally arrived to see the Wizard of Oz! The woman looks at my paperwork and says, “Go to Counter #4!” Are you serious? You’ve got to be kidding me! GRRR! So I go to Counter #4 and fortunately there was no line. She filled out some more paperwork for me and put a coverletter on the paperwork (which was simply a blank piece of paper that had Molly’s full name and date of birth on it, along with some stamp to make it official! Seriously, I could have made this cover letter myself). Thrilled that I was finally getting the letter, I’m getting ready to go, but the woman says, “You are going to have to come back at 2pm.” “WHY?” “Because I need to put your paperwork in an envelope, but the guy who has the envelopes has knocked off early for lunch!” I tried everything I could in order to get the paper work and go home, “I’ll just put it in an envelope when I get home.” It has to have an official stamp on it or it won’t be recognized in Harare. “Doesn’t someone else have an envelope? Can’t we just reuse this envelope on your desk?” No, it has to be specially stamped. “Can’t someone else put the stamp on it?” No, only this guy who has knocked off early can do it. “Don’t you realize how expensive fuel is and you’re going to make me come back for a 4th time to this building?” Sorry. “Will I have to wait in line again?” No, I’ll bump you to the front of the line if you come back at 2pm. Sensing that there was no budging, I obliged, came back at 2pm and got my beloved envelope. And guess what? The envelope was a reused envelope that simply had today’s date stamped on it!
Why do things here have to be so much harder than what they should be??
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