This story first appeared on the expat blog Live Work Travel USA. It’s a tale of woe and hoop jumping fun. You’ve really got to want to reside in a foreign country badly, considering the bullshit red tape it requires. Here’s just one such story, from a list miles long, of stupid shit we’ve had to do to live here.
Fake it ’til you make it right?
image by Digitalart
Arriving in the USA in 2005 made for interesting times. We were in the throws of starting a new business with partners who decided to rip us off, we’ve since fought a court battle and won, but that wasn’t a very nice start. After the rocky start in Indianapolis we headed East to New York, where we had an apartment we purchased as an investment. It wasn’t finished yet and we were having difficulty getting a mortgage. We were stuck in the new laws of the Patriots act of having to prove where every cent came from as well as being foreigners without credit scores. It was a tough time. Brought us to our knees in prayer for the first time.
During the process of getting credit and a mortgage, we needed to obtain drivers licenses. Not for the driving aspect but more for the identification box needed checking. You know America is ALL about checking the box. So while we were waiting to close on our Manhattan apartment we were holed up in a century old stone cottage by a lake in Connecticut. As luck would have it, that made things a little easier. We sought information on obtaining licenses and discovered that we would be required to take a written AND practical test, however we wouldn’t be required to do any classes. The closest DMV to our little cottage had no openings for months and as we needed the licenses quickly, we found a larger center with earlier appointments, unfortunately it was 100 miles away. And we discovered that we needed to have a Connecticut licensed car to test in. We had a vehicle but it was licensed in Indiana and that wasn’t acceptable. So managing to borrow our new friends BMW, we packed the kids in and headed 100 miles down the highway to get licenses.
We both passed our written tests and The King passed his identity check, however I didn’t. Somehow my documents weren’t good enough so I couldn’t go any further. With the King booking his practical test for the following week we headed off. We all piled in and headed back the following week for his test and for me to try again but still I didn’t have what was acceptable. The woman at the counter told me straight out that a wedding certificate from church wasn’t acceptable, but a baptism certificate was. Mortified I replied ‘So you’re telling me I can walk out of here, find the first church, get baptised, come back and you’ll accept that but this is unacceptable?’ She answered affirmatively to which I scoffed and said ‘that’s stupid.’
So we headed back home the 100 miles with the two little kids and only one license. Once home we contacted our friend from a church in the City the King had met years before and told him our plight. He said they didn’t ‘do’ certificates but was happy for me to go ahead and ‘make one’. And so that’s what we did, in Microsoft word, we made a Baptism certificate, printed it out on fancy paper and I signed it.
The following day I drove the 100 miles myself, had my appointment, handed in all my paperwork including my acceptable fake certificate and did my driving test. I drove home as a licensed Connecticut driver and certified fake Baptism certificate maker.
How’s that for a stupid system!