Entering Oktober

It was cold but sunny. I dragged myself out of bed at 7AM and took a shower with my eyes closed. I hadn't slept for two days for I was worrying about the appointment at INS, and many other little things. I thought about taking a few drops of Theralene. That thought remained a thought.

An old man sat on the metro steps with beer or Jägermeister shots, trying to have passengers buy "motz" -- a newspaper put together by homeless people. A few Straßekinder roamed about at Hermannplatz, dyed hair, tattooed arms and necks, full of piercings, saturated with drugs, asking for small changes. "You guys have the right to work and go to school, and I am working my ass off just to get a paper to have half of the rights."

There were only handful of people at INS -- the workers were on strike. "We cannot receive all the applicants," they said, "but if you have an appointment, you can wait in the waiting room."

So we waited, I did the crossword on the newspaper. Someone called out a name behind a closed door."Is it us?"

"I don't know. I think they were just talking to each other."

He taped on the door and asked. -- It was for us. Alright, their speakers were on strike too.

"You have to pay 80 euros because, well, it is the fee and you will have two months of Fiktionscheinigung (instead of 6 months) for you did not apply for your Visa from a right status. You needed to have a family-matter visa, but you did not."

Because your co-worker wouldn't give it to me!!!I could have gotten one! That is why I did not have the right Visa to get another Visa...

Fine, whatever, that is my first German paper and I am finally legal, for two months. I am going to frame that piece of green paper and put it on the wall! And I am going to put it under my pillow and sleep with it. We did not have the paper for our next appointment, all we can do right now is to wait. As usual.

There is a coffee shop near INS, but their espresso machine was broken. We sat down at a table outside, I used his coffee mug as hot-water bag -- I don't like filtered coffee.

"Now we need a letter from a lawyer, according to what she said, and how she said, I think Kammergericht and them had communicated, and there have been some complications. I am not taking the risk for a possible negative verdict. We have to act now, act before them." He picked up the phone and called the lawyer.

"We need an appointment with you as soon as possible. Today, please?... ok, as soon as possible, let's say tomorrow morning? 10am? 9am? or 8am in your flat we will bring you breakfast?"

Huh?

The appointment was set at 9:30am.

So, at 9:40am. Three of us sat at a table, signed the power of attorney, discussed the possible outcome and prepared for a potential trail. "It will be fine, mostly." they said. "The Kammergericht is taking time to exam the intention. Once we give enough evidences, there shouldn't be any reason to lose the case."

Is it now?

It started to rain when I left the office heading back to the flat. I did not take the metro. The forecast said it'd be sunny.

Back to the flat, zapped through channels, I was waiting for the post to come, then I can decide what to do.

The verdict didn't come, but my Press ID did. He was more excited than I was. Adorable, his will arrive in two days too. "Please write something, and I will proof read your paper. I still have to finish the rest of the application. I entered my domain to be economy, social and politics, and yours? Literature, art and culture?"

"Literature is a kind of art."

"Write something. I will try to get them published, under a different name of course."

Oh right, I am not allowed to work. But with my Press ID, I can probably get into some concerts for free. I phoned a few artzy friends I know, and now waiting for them to call me back, if they ever will.

Because of my irregular access to the Internet, I decided to buy some newspapers so I would have something more than German to read. I entered an international press shop, and the Turkish shop owner asked if he could help me.

"Yes, do you by chance have L'espresso?"

"No, we have only normal coffee."

"No, I mean the magazine."

"Never heard of it."

"Do you have La Republica then?"

"Oh yeah, the Japanese magazine?"

"Eh... no... an Italian newspaper."

(Quote from SR: "La Republica are the most Japanese words I have ever heard!")

"No. But they may arrive in ten minutes."

Sure they would.

I ended up walking across the quarter, asking another press shop owner to save a copy of Corriere della sera for me and I'd pick it up after lunch.

It is sunny, think I will go and take a nap before heading out.