Visa Extension Part II

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. 

How to Prolong a French Long Stay Student Visa / Comment prolonger un titre de séjour étudiant longue durée

Ok, first of all, when I was nearly hysterical and pulling my hair out I couldn't find a satisfactory answer for this online, so I should say that there is probably a simpler way to do this, and if you do want to prolong your student visa, you should DEFINITELY start TWO MONTHS before it expires.  (NB: If you have not yet applied for your visa, be sure to get the full year you are entitled. At the consulate, my interview was with some girl who thought it would be cute to set my visa expiration for Independence Day. Let me tell you, there were no fireworks for me on the 4th, just lots of métro rides and photocopying.)

So, if you are still outside the two final months of your visa, by all means, head for the Préfecture, and you'll probably have little or no trouble with the process I outlined last month. If you are already in that danger zone, hightail it up to Porte de Clignacourt with your passport (secure all of your valuables first) and get ready to stand in line.  What you are going to do now is a little bit tricky.  Luckily, I got a lady who was about to go on holiday and had just had a lovely chat with a cute indie gay couple whom she seemed to know pretty well (fonctionnaires' moods makes all the difference in these instances).  I told her I needed to extend my visa to work for the summer. If my employer had been willing to give me an embauche d'emploi or contract, this all could have been over in 20 minutes, but no...

**NB: Americans can stay in France 90 days past the expiration of their visas.  Your status automatically becomes that of a tourist.  However, tourists can not work or attend school.**

Here's what we did: She gave me an appointment for July 4 (my own personal D-Day) and a list of documents I needed to renew my visa. Extension didn't seem to be an option. The list included:

• Passport, titre de séjour/yellow OFII thing, visa
• *Official* translation of birth certificate into French, 
• Proof of funds - a notarized letter from my parents saying they'd spot me 500 euros a month sufficed (ha! lucky the immigration officials don't know my parents)
• Proof of housing for at least the next 3 months - My host mom wrote an attestation d'hebergement and gave me an electricity bill from within the past 6 months, and it turned out I needed a photocopy of her passport or carte d'identité, too.
• Proof of enrollment and grades from the last school year, 
• Proof of enrollment for the upcoming school year. 

With a wink she told me to say that I had not yet found the program qui me va for the next year. Stay tuned for how the appointment went down.

Bosser - v; to work

Most of you know by now that I found a job at the last minute.  I currently make 8 euros an hour tapping Guiness and hawking haggis at a Scottish pub in the Marais.  My coworkers are cool and the regulars are a mix of older Englishmen, Americans, and Frenchmen who speak perfect English.  It's a good job with good people. 

What I put off doing, because French bureaucracy is the stuff of nightmares, was extending my visa.  The first hurdle to getting this over with was figuring out which of the multitudinous civil service offices I needed to visit.  Return to OFII Office where they make you strip and then throw you against a wall for a chest x-ray? Try the exchange student office that is almost outside the city, on one of the biggest prostitution streets in Paris? How about the Préfecture de Police, the same place they take you in for questioning, drunkenness, and garde à vue? Any one of these also undoubtedly meant long waits and return visits, so perhaps you can understand my putting it off. 

Yesterday I finally gathered up every possible piece of paper I could need and set off for OFII and see what was up, but the métro broke down (yay ligne 4!) on Ile de la Cité.  An alarm was going off periodically and I was getting claustrophobic in the subterranean tuna can when it hit me - the Préfecture de Police is at Cité. Why not? So I hopped out and went into the vast complex to see what could be done for me.

In the Europe-Proche Orient-Amerique room I was given a piece of paper with a lot of very small print which the lady was kind enough to highlight for me, as well as mark things 1 and 2 and scrawl "ETR" and "EDF" on. Basically, I was supposed to start this process a month and a half ago.  What I'm supposed to do is call a number, give them my numéro étranger (ETR) get an appointment at some offshoot of the Préfecture (bureaucracy = hydra), bring a letter from Joëlle and an electricity bill (EDF) to prove I'm not homeless and then...I don't know, pray? No, that would be a very American thing to do.

I'll keep you posted.

Musée d'art moderne

 

Now that classes are over, most JYA-ers are crossing the final items off their Paris bucket lists and packing up their souvenirs.  One of the last stops for my friend Hazel was the Musée d'Art Moderne (11 avenue du Président Wilson, 16e).

 

The museum's permanent collection, which is free (woohoo!), includes numerous Cubist pieces by Braques and Picasso, Fauvist oeuvres by Matisse, and some rooms of Dada/Surrealist flights of fancy.  Some videographic works by Asian artists are on show in the basement.  My personal favorite was the Salle Dufy, where a huge mural (above) depicting great scientists and inventors (French and otherwise) covers the walls.  

The Palais de Tokyo is a luminous if somewhat sterile structure that was built for the International Exhibition of Arts and Technology of 1937.  The museum is situated in the eastern wing, while the western wing hosts an atelier for young artists in residence.

For a while the works on display were modern pieces that spilled over from the collection of the very full Petit Palais.  But with the accumulation of many pieces during the 1937 exhibition, including this baller neo-classical-meets-art-deco sideboard, the museum was given the green light and inaugurated as a distinct musée de la ville de Paris. 

Alors on danse...

Sorry for the little rant earlier, y'all, but I couldn't name my blog after fireworks if I didn't go off from time to time, now could I? Here's a kickass music video (I just learned how to embed videos, can you tell?) and a list of my favorite dancing establishments in the City of Light to make up for it. 

Corcoran's (23, Blvd Poissonière, 2e) is my mainstay.  It's technically a "pub" which means it falls into a legal gray area between bar and nightclub.  This devilish limbo means that it keeps Rihanna's entire catalogue pumping all night - yay first metro! - but never charges cover.  It's a great warm up for Rex, or a nice place to have a beer and people-watch on weeknights. Depending on the night, there's usually a pretty good mix of students and young professionals loosening their ties. 

Slightly more bling bling than Corcoran's,  Le Rex Club (5, Blvd Poissonière, 2e) is attached to Le Grand Rex, an old, recently restored cinema just up the street from Corcoran's.  Thursday is free, the rest of the time it's 10 - 15 euros.  Save a bit by booking online. I've only been disappointed by their choice of dj once, but don't go if you don't like electro.  Groovy light show.  Don't even think about getting a drink unless you've recently won the lottery.  Crowd ranges in age from Who let you in? to I think I have a class with your son.

I might have a skewed perspective on this place from the night the Youngunz played and we were served birthday cake from the stage.  Generally killer djs, drinks are slightly less unreasonable than Rex, though coat/bag check is mandatory and covers are equally unkind (again, except on Thursday).  Still, I love it here. Apparently the club has recently been redecorated.  I don't know what it looked like before, but it's pretty chill atmosphere.  Highly recommended. Le Social Club (142, rue Montmartre, 2e)

Ah, what to say about the Batofar (14, quai François Mauriac, 13e)? It's out of the way (far out in the east, in the Seine).  It's big and red and rusty and not terribly well ventilated.  Still, if you like straight up trance and house, this might be your best bet.  You could consider not showering for a few days to fit in better with the regulars.  Do I need to tell you that there are rarely any girls here? It's pretty safe but, uh, just say no to drugs.

While Batofar is drawing in all the counter culture for miles (kilometers?) around, MixClub (rue de l'Arrivée, 15e) is down by Montparnasse acting as Eurotrash Mecca.  With a similar repertoire to Corcorans and an Erasmus (international students') night that brings in enough people to fill all three stories, it is a cultural wasteland where you can do the macarena without shame. They have a GLBT friendly evening, but my gay friends have been able to find dance partners even on more "mainstream" nights.  Shots are a pretty good deal.

Okay, I got sucked into Showcase (Port des Champs Elysées, 8e) because 1) It's under the sumptuous Pont Alexandre III (a gift from the Russian tzar, yay gilded sculptures!) and 2) If you put your name on the website's guestlist and show up around 12:30, it's free.  I adore free, but, truth is, the music is always the same undanceable sludge and most of the clientele are poseurs there to be seen.  Go once (provided you remembered to put your name on the guestlist) to admire the architecture, and scope out the well-dressed 20-somethings getting botttle service, then catch the last metro home or to somewhere that isn't trying so hard.


La Miroiterie (88, rue de Ménilmontant, 20e) is performance space in a former (abandoned?) mirror factory. I'm not 100% clear on the legal standing of this establishment, but I know this much: the concerts are semi-impromptu, the music is loud, the beer is cheap and the patrons make the gutter punks outside the Batofar look like fairy princesses. After you pay the cover charge, be sure to ask what the symbol they draw on your hand means lest you wind up with a symbole anti flic on your wrist like my friend Kevin. Then mosh like you've got braincells to burn.

This former lesbian bar in Pigalle is a hipster's dream.  The neighborhood is seedy and the teeny tiny bar is cramped, hot, and somewhat unknown.  Go now so you can say you knew about it before it was "ruined by tourists." Sidenote: when I was there we ran into the rapper Teki.  Shockingly expensive drinks for the amount of flannel in this cellar, but again, rad dj's. Chez Moune (54 rue Pigalle, 9e).

I will always have a soft spot for Nouveau Casino (109, rue Oberkampf, 11e) because of its location on rue Oberkampf, right across from where I stayed the first time I ever came to Paris.  My memories of that fateful summer are punctuated with nights spent carousing at Charbon, the attached brasserie.  The first time I ever made it inside the Casino was with le Chef and Pomegrenade.  The latter promptly ditched us for a charming man.  They're moving in together this summer.  Where does the time go? Anyway, this is a nice club with fairly hip young crowd on a street of awesome bars and restaurants. Some pretty well-known acts swing by from time to time, too. What's not to love? 

Boogie on down.