Vive La France
There is much to be learned from living in France and dealing with the French. One of the primary lessons is just to go with the flow. The French are by nature negative and pessimistic; not all of them but many of them. They love to say “non”. It’s nothing personal, it’s just in their nature.
There have been several stumbling blocks to re-integrating myself into French society. There are several steps to take which if not followed in the correct manner can become problematic. The first is the question of an identity card/number. Silly me thought it would just be a matter of walzing in to the nearest equivalent of our Centrelink Office or the local Mairie and asking for one. How wrong can you be!!!
Lesson number 1: do things in the right order
It seems that before you can become a French citizen again, you must become “intégré”. Unfortunately this information is not easily found as it is something the French take for granted and which is not applicable to foreigners. They are confronted by different issues. It is not merely a question of applying for your numéro d’identité, which is conferred on you at birth, something I didn’t know. Without your identity number it is difficult to do anything else, so this should have been my first step.
A bank account and a proof of residence (such as a utilities bill) is essential around here if you want to function at even a basic level. You cannot get a on a mobile phone plan, get any sort of decent internet access, nor do the countless other things which one takes for granted. The problem is you cannot get proof of address without a bank account and you cannot get a bank account without proof of address.
Lesson number 2: be selective about the information your divulge
Next be careful what kind of information you divulge. An initial mistake I made was being too honest and open. When I first went to the Mairie to apply for my Carte d’Identité, I stupidly told them my marital status. Big mistake. This opened up a whole can of worms as I have never advised the French authorities about my divorce. The female public servant seemed to take great relish in telling me that it was impossible to proceed without my divorce certificate, a certified translated transcript, and the full names of the entire french football team in Marseilles, blah blah blah. Kidding, but you get the idea.
Next I went along to L’Assurance Maladie, (a Medicare –like organisation which administers the health system here), and stupidly told them that I had just arrived in France from Australia making sure I showed them my French passport. Nevertheless I detected another gleeful expression as I was advised that without some kind of proof of French income I would not be entitled to a Carte Vitale (Medicare Card). The implication being that I would rort the system for everything it had before hightailing it back to Australia.
Lesson number 3: Just go with the flow.
There is no point in arguing or losing your cool – it just seems to vindicate their position. There is usually, provided it is done legally and with finesse (hey the French invented the word!) a way around things. If you understand that the French are a highly suspicious bunch and, as a nation, are exposed to large numbers of crimes/rorts, it is understandable that they treat foreigners with suspicion, even those of us who were born here. When I returned to the Social Security office and told them (a different person this time) that I wanted to be reintegrated so that I could work and pay taxes (making a joke about France needing tax payers as most of them seemed to be leaving the country, à la Gerard Depardieu!) there was no problem. The man even went out of his way to help me.