Whilst many people complain about admin and paperwork in England, what we have is NOTHING compared to what Frenchies have to deal with. All us foreigners joke that to get anything in this country, from a bank account to a gym membership, you need 5 copies of your passport, your stamped, translated birth certificate, and a urine sample of your next of kin. Although this is a (slight) exaggeration, the French themselves are fully aware that the nightmare their systems can present, calling the sheer amount of paperwork in life 'la paperasse'. During my assistantship, I quickly became acquainted with the unrelenting demand for our documents, so I knew that this time, I should come well prepared. I brought with me around ten photocopies of my passport, my English birth certificate, more copies of it translated into French, some bank statements, old pay slips, my degree certificate, everything I knew that I would need to reinsert myself legally, financially, and practically into French society .This did not however ensure my immunity from 'la paperasse'.
To re-establish myself in la vie francaise, the first thing I sorted myself with was a job. Next on the list was housing. Check (See previous blog post). However, with said housing came the accompanying paperwork. A tenancy contract is a new form of 'paperasse' for me, given that with my previous landlady, everything was more or less off the books. In Valenciennes, my landlords are much more formal, which I actually prefer, as everything is signed and legally secure. What is more, I am lucky that they are friendly, organised, and thoughtful people living in a nearby town, and have been very understanding of my situation. My first month's rent and deposit were paid in cash upon arrival, and the contract was signed upon arrival also, without needing to prove I had a bank account or produce a pay slip beforehand. This is not something everyone is treated to in France. Under usual circumstances, I would have had to get my parents to sign a guarantor document before moving in, having to prove their income with their own bank statements and pay slips. I know my parents would not have been happy to do this (for which I would not blame them) so I'm just thankful my housing situation is easier to formalise than most.
The next thing to tackle was banking. No bank account, no pay, no life. Simples. I've realised that we really are treated in England to such a cheap and accommodating banking system. Most French bank accounts charge you monthly to hold an account with them, cash back in shops is illegal, and checking your balance at any old hole-in-the-wall is not possible. Being more financially aware on a day to day basis is a must. Not getting on well with my previous French bank, I chose a new bank, one of the only banks in the town that doesn't charge you monthly. The day my fellow-lectrice friend and I opened our accounts, we were sat in a lovely posh office, where all our papers were checked, stamped, photocopied, etc. Everything was going very smoothly, but just before signing the final document, I noticed that my nationality had been put down as Finnish. Really. So I queried this, to which the bank assistant replied that she understood I was English, but that she couldn't find 'English' as an option on the computer, assuring me it wouldn't be an issue (c'est pas grave). This was very odd considering that my friend had just been processed as 'English' even though she is in fact Irish. It didn't end there. I was recorded as having been born in Cambridge, when I was in fact born in Cambridge Military Hospital in Aldershot. I could understand the confusion there, and decided not to bother questioning my identity twice in one day. I don't mind where I'm supposedly born, what nationality I may be, as long as that version of me is paid at the end of each month.
To further complicate matters, we kept being asked to give a contact phone number in order to open a French bank account and get a debit card. However, without a French debit card, I can't start a French mobile phone contract, and I can't get a French Debit card before my first salary instalment at the end of September, which of course, requires a bank account. Complicated? I think so. So, feeling a bit cheeky, I thought I'd attempt to get around this issue. I explained that we would not have a contact telephone number before getting a debit card, so if we could get a debit card before our pay cheque, that would make matters a lot easier for the bank...and us. The queue behind us was growing, so the bank assistant spoke very quietly and quickly...she had relented. She said she would discretely send us each our pin numbers and that we could come in to get our card next week. The only conditions were that we too had to be discrete and we had to see only her about it. Feeling suitably chuffed at manipulating the system , my friend and I exchanged high-fives as we left the bank.
So it seems the age old question of "What came first, the chicken or the egg?" has found a more frustrating application. What must come first? The housing contract or the bank account? The phone contract or the debit card? At times us newbies in Valenciennes have felt as though we were precariously circling the plughole of the French administration system, at any point in the position to fall into anonymity. Each necessity relies on the other to exist, and starting from scratch means that to get into the system, the rules have to be bent.
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