We’re Off to Waly Chrobrego!

This title should be sung to the tune of We’re Off to See the Wizard!, and for pretty much the same reason.

In the classic Oz tale, The Wizard purportedly grants every heart’s desire and Dorothy’s wish to go home.

I am looking for a place to call home and, in today’s culture of nationalistic fervor, am finding it an exercise in frustration to unravel all of the red tape surrounding the protocol for obtaining permission to live here beyond the 90-day visa free stay that any American passport holder is entitled to.

For one, the website detailing how a foreigner goes about legitimizing his/her stay here was exceedingly hard to find.

And then, once it was found, it emphasized that all documents must be filled out in Polish – and here, I was once again confronted with the fact that translation software has a way to go before being completely accurate.

I am very fortunate in that I have someone to advocate for me and would strongly advise anyone seeking residence in Poland to do the same.

The first time we went to the office of foreign affairs, located on Wały Chrobrego, we were dismayed to discover that 1. one must take a number to wait one’s turn and 2. all of the numbers for that day had already been given out. 

We were there at 8AM; you can imagine how early one must show up in order to get a number and surely must realize that, once a number had been secured, the possibility of a day-long wait was not out of the question.

Suddenly, the vending machines in the lobby made a lot of sense.

Disappointed to have gotten up and out so early for nothing, we nevertheless inquired what would be required of us on the day that we would secure one of those coveted numbers. We were told a properly filled out application and all supporting documentation should ensure success at having one’s application accepted for review.

We note here that no one is granted a visa on the spot; candidates are conditionally approved pending a criminal background check from Interpol and verification of all support documentation.

Said documentation posed a problem because nowhere is it indicated exactly which documents are required – or, more specifically, which ones will inch you closer to approval.

And the application packet, all 38 pages of it, also raised issues.

Being self-employed and honest as the day is long, to the question Foreigners Means of Subsistence While in Poland I responded (in my best Google Translate) that I am self-employed.

As for my marital status... as a longtime divorcee, I reasoned I could label myself as single – again, I was wrong!

Both of those issues came to light when we returned to that magnificent building and actually managed to snag a number!

The clerk reviewing my application packet averred that my chances for approval would be so much better if I billed myself as a student and enrolled in a language school (and included a copy of my school contract to substantiate that claim).

She further advised that I need to include my most recent bank statement and photocopy every single page in my passport that held any kind of travel stamp.

She also chastised me for omitting the time I came through Warsaw airport, in transit, on my way to Germany on my application – yes, there is a line where supplicants must write in the exact dates they have previously visited Poland.

I’ve never visited Poland; I only changed airplanes here!

Wait a minute; I’m getting ahead of myself: there is the issue of the money order to talk about.

On our second visit to the foreign affairs office – we’d yet to see or speak with anyone official, we intended to pay the application fee first thing, because the application demanded attachment of that remittal.

So, we queued up at the cashier’s window, where we were informed that they don’t accept those payments. The cashier directed us to the nearest post office, instructing us to buy a money order from them. 

Now the quandary: should I pay the higher price for a visa plus work permit or pay the lower price for the residence visa without a work permit?

We had intended to ask the cashier, thinking s/he surely must know bur now, that’s not an option!

I reasoned: err on the side of caution and pay the higher price. After all, I am working, even if I am self-employed.

My representative filled everything out and, by this time fairly fed up with things, we opted to mail the application packet in.

That turned out to be the wrong choice.

An hour after leaving the post office I was urged to return there and retrieve the registered letter we had just consigned to their care.

Apparently, the same standards do not apply here as they do in the states: there are no laws here regarding the sanctity of the mail – once you give the USPS your letter they will see it delivered. Here, you can ‘buy’ your mail back from the post office for a small fee!   

A small fee that I gladly paid because, as my advocate explained, she had contacted the foreign affairs office and managed to arrange a preliminary interview, scheduled for next week!

Naturally, we wanted everything to be perfect so we met over the weekend, to go over the application and supporting documentation.

That is how we managed, on this third trip to that office, to walk in with confidence: we KNEW everything would be in order!

That is when the officer recommended I sign up for language lessons, provide bank statements, photocopy every single stamped page in my passport, get a refund on the more expensive money order and buy one for the lower visa fee... 

And she’ll see us again the following week.

At the outset of this venture, I had bought a printer. Although there is a print shop right around the corner from my pok, I have neither the language skills nor the patience to continuously run there every time I need something printed or scanned.

I have printed out that 38-page application four times, along with my Polish bank statement, American bank statement, Paypal statement (to show how much money I had coming in this month) and even my Thrift Savings Plan statement... they wanted to know about my financial situation, right?

I also scanned and printed 15 pages of my passport including the data page, my birth certificate, my rental agreement and my health insurance contract.

Could you imagine handing all of that to your local Kinko’s clerk for him/her to print out?

Once again, on a chilly Monday morning, heading to Wały Chrobrego, and again the depletion of my now very thick file.

All of my carefully collected and painstakingly curated documents, scattered on her desk. As she chats with my advocate in Polish, pointing out problem areas – still!, she starts entering my particulars into her computer.

Soon, the fingerprint scanner lights up, indicating I should present my index fingers for imaging.

Now she is gluing one of the four required passport photos to the first page of my application.

I had included my parents’ last names on the form; it should only have been their first names. She scribbles through my error and requests I initial those marks. A couple more mistakes get the same treatment and I legitimize those corrections with my initials.

The whole time, she is talking and talking, typing and typing.

And then, she gets up, unlocks a massive cabinet and returns to her desk with the largest stamper I have ever seen. It makes quite a noise as, centered over a blank page in my passport, its printhead guarantees my legal status here, pending the Interpol green light.

Finally getting that stamp should have been a cause for celebration but we’re putting that off until the foreign affairs office is finally satisfied that I’ve met my burden of proof in establishing my authenticity.

Among the new requirements: proof that my landlady actually owns the apartment I am renting, official confirmation of my account from the bank and a copy of the bank draft indicating I have actually paid for the first month of language lessons.

I cannot imagine how anyone makes it through this system unaided, whether they speak Polish or not.

Remember: I have an advocate who is Polish and still, it took us several tries to get things right.

What strikes me about those onerous requirements is that most of them should, by all rights, fall to the government official who will eventually certify my application.

After all, how is any random citizen, let alone a foreigner, to navigate bureaucracy in order to verify their landlord’s property ownership? What if I were renting from a management company???

My advocate explained: so poorly compensated are government workers that they tend to quit in droves, leaving those offices chronically understaffed – meaning that they cannot run all of the required checks. That leaves us hapless supplicants to bear that almost impossible to meet burden.

I was very fortunate to be able to meet mine because I had a lot of help. Now i’ve got to wait 5-6 months for the disposition of my case... but for now, I am legal in Poland!