As you might remember from the first part of this story, the thing to do if you want to extend your student visa is to START EARLY. Failing that, gather together as many of the requisite documents as you can, and then...lie. I can tell you to do that because an honest-to-God, real French fonctionnaire told me to.
I needed to keep my visa to be eligible to work in France. (Can we get the US an honorary membership in the EU, please?) Apparently prolonging it isn't even an option, which left me with renouvellement, renewal. So I showed up on July 4, the day my visa expired, with as many of the documents from the list as I could scrape together.
After waking up at 6:00 a.m. in order to be on time for my 8:00 a.m. appointment, I stood in line with some other exchange students and Parisians trying to get their drivers' licenses. When I finally reached the gate keeper fonctionnaire, he promptly sent me away for not having a photo copy of my host mom's Carte d'identité. Boo hiss. Failure. I left in shame and panic. Six hours, one afternoon wasted waiting for documents that weren't even in the mail yet, and 48 métro stops later, I'm back. Nevermind that I don't have the merest whisper of a translated birth certificate or proof of enrollment for the upcoming school year; picture of host mom's picture ID in hand, I got a number and - oh boy! - a seat.
When my number was called I got my first break of the day: my caseworker was a man! not only a man, but a youngish, non-grouchy man! I felt somewhat relieved, but the stress of the day and my still somewhat slim file must have showed on my face. He smiled, told me to take a seat, and not to look so scared. He gave me a form to start filling out.
Where was my birth certificate?
"Well, you know, I'm from la Nouvelle Orléans, and there was this hurricane, which really messed up--"
Doesn't matter. The embassy could write something up in that case. Next issue: enrollment for this year?
"Well, I'm still deciding whether I want to stay on as an exchange student or enroll directly..."
Questionable. Was I done filling out the form yet?
"...I think I spelled my name wrong."
And that is the story of how yours truly got a temporary extension, to be replaced by a renewal after a second meeting, currently set for October 3, by which point I'll "have all the documents together." I'm pretty sure my fonctionnaire saw through the little scheme, but he seemed to find me an appealing character, and I was more than ready to be sympatico with him.
And that seems to be how Paris works: in a town that knocks you down a thousand times a day, you have to give people a reason to smile at you, either by cutting them a break or being the prettiest girl they've seen all afternoon. Little bits of solidarity in the big, bad city; little glimmers of vulnerability showing through stony don't-fuck-with-me faces. One of the most appealing qualities of Paris is how human it is, despite all the masterpieces and elaborate grooming, it's still a place that's okay with nudity, emotional and physical, but show some restraint, doucement, doucement.
