Today was the day I went back to Home Affairs downtown. I had an ambitious agenda: I wanted to claim the repatriation deposit back (paid in Sweden 18 months ago), since I had received my South African permanent residence permit. Close to 9,000 bucks is owed to me. I made it to the front of the queue quite quickly and I had all the required paper work ready, we had already been to Parkview Police Station for authorised copies of permit and passport. But the money owed to me will only be paid back in 9-12 months and the reason for that is something like: embassies in foreign countries always pay the monies into wrong accounts. Hm. Anyway, I was not ready to give up. On my agenda was also to apply for a South African ID book and a lady behind a counter gave me the necessary forms to complete. I made the fatal error of using a blue ink pen, so had to start all over again. With a black pen a drunk man lent us and tried to sell to us, I filled out as much information as possible, only to discover that a couple of small things were missing, so the lady was not prepared to give me a queue number. I added the missing bits and finally I got piece of paper with a number on it. The drunk man was thrown out of the building. After no more than an hour I made it to a man behind a desk who asked for a copy of our marriage certificate. Darn! Nick ran across the street to a copy shop place. Luckily the man behind the desk didn't need a certified copy. The same man sent me to the hallway where hundreds of people were queueing, maybe Zimbabweans, I don't know. In the hall was a man who took my fingerprints, very thoroughly one by one and the fingers together on each hand separately. Then I had to go back to the big room where lots of people on long rows of benches were waiting. An hour later I made it to a third person, another man, behind a desk, who printed a receipt and said: Do not loose this receipt. In 3-6 months we will send you an sms and you will need the receipt to come and collect your ID book. I can hardly believe that within 3-6 months I will be the owner of a South African ID book. When we were leaving the buildning the drunk man acosted us again asking for ten bucks and was thrown out again. After four hours, we arrived home to another great piece of news. The power cut was over! After 24 hours without electricity, it feels like luxury to be able to cook and shower and make tea! So all in all a good day.
torsdag 7 april 2011
Home of the Affairs, part 2
Today was the day I went back to Home Affairs downtown. I had an ambitious agenda: I wanted to claim the repatriation deposit back (paid in Sweden 18 months ago), since I had received my South African permanent residence permit. Close to 9,000 bucks is owed to me. I made it to the front of the queue quite quickly and I had all the required paper work ready, we had already been to Parkview Police Station for authorised copies of permit and passport. But the money owed to me will only be paid back in 9-12 months and the reason for that is something like: embassies in foreign countries always pay the monies into wrong accounts. Hm. Anyway, I was not ready to give up. On my agenda was also to apply for a South African ID book and a lady behind a counter gave me the necessary forms to complete. I made the fatal error of using a blue ink pen, so had to start all over again. With a black pen a drunk man lent us and tried to sell to us, I filled out as much information as possible, only to discover that a couple of small things were missing, so the lady was not prepared to give me a queue number. I added the missing bits and finally I got piece of paper with a number on it. The drunk man was thrown out of the building. After no more than an hour I made it to a man behind a desk who asked for a copy of our marriage certificate. Darn! Nick ran across the street to a copy shop place. Luckily the man behind the desk didn't need a certified copy. The same man sent me to the hallway where hundreds of people were queueing, maybe Zimbabweans, I don't know. In the hall was a man who took my fingerprints, very thoroughly one by one and the fingers together on each hand separately. Then I had to go back to the big room where lots of people on long rows of benches were waiting. An hour later I made it to a third person, another man, behind a desk, who printed a receipt and said: Do not loose this receipt. In 3-6 months we will send you an sms and you will need the receipt to come and collect your ID book. I can hardly believe that within 3-6 months I will be the owner of a South African ID book. When we were leaving the buildning the drunk man acosted us again asking for ten bucks and was thrown out again. After four hours, we arrived home to another great piece of news. The power cut was over! After 24 hours without electricity, it feels like luxury to be able to cook and shower and make tea! So all in all a good day.
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