She's got a ticket to ri-ide
We're listening to the Sarko-Ségo debates on France Info and giggling as things heat up and get interesting. I've never been so giddy about a presidential debate in my life. The candor and barbed wit beats this morning's métro cat fight by a long shot. 17/20.
Last Friday, at precisely 9h20, I collected my dossier de nationalité française. On my way to the Tribunal d'Instance, an immigration office with which I was miraculously not yet familiar, but whose ominous administrative title fettered my mind and feelings with a priori on top of a priori, I imagined the oath I would be asked to recite. Silently praying that the Ricoré I inhaled before rushing out the door would work its magic and kick-start my currently lazy brain into playing oral Memory, I scrambled east along l'Avenue Daumesnil.
Envisioning a Chirac lookalike with nose-hairs like tentacles, a tomato red scarf that doubles as a helicopter/noise-maker for rousing renditions of La Marseillaise adorning his sagging neck, and being guided in one of the more dramatic versions of the national hymn that the ladies of the Greffe had witnessed in weeks, the civil audition evoked wild forms in my thoughts.
Would I be asked to develop my reasons for requesting that la République bestow the status of citizen upon my shoulders and file? I reflected back to April 2006, facing the representative at the San Francisco Consulate with my personal goals and future plans for a life in France. Family, work, education - I knew that wherever I set up shop, security, stability, the right to work, but also, ESSENTIALLY, the right to vote would prove vital.
As I write this, demagogy and platitudes fly in succession from the speakers, and I wonder how many will be duped by the anecdotal evidence and dubious statistics bandied carefully about. The French are notoriously critical; will they apply their famous Cartesian logic to the promises and vague offers? Oh, de toute façon c'est bonnet blanc et blanc bonnet," sighed an exasperated colleague today.
Today, I am not particularly attached to either France or the United States in strictly national terms. Nations and nationalities comprise superficial nomenclatures that mean far less to me than the people and languages bound within their often ambiguous borders. I love many things about many cultures and resent the geographical distance imposed between me and my family and friends, but at the end of the day, I can see myself living happily on almost any continent (almost because I'm from California- Antarctica is out). Somehow, in the dénouement of the grand scheme of things, I ended up here, and here will I probably remain for a while. Roots are creeping deeper on many levels of late, and I'm happily obliged to picture myself and my loved one(s) in a French frame.
Last Friday, at precisely 9h20, I collected my dossier de nationalité française. On my way to the Tribunal d'Instance, an immigration office with which I was miraculously not yet familiar, but whose ominous administrative title fettered my mind and feelings with a priori on top of a priori, I imagined the oath I would be asked to recite. Silently praying that the Ricoré I inhaled before rushing out the door would work its magic and kick-start my currently lazy brain into playing oral Memory, I scrambled east along l'Avenue Daumesnil.
Envisioning a Chirac lookalike with nose-hairs like tentacles, a tomato red scarf that doubles as a helicopter/noise-maker for rousing renditions of La Marseillaise adorning his sagging neck, and being guided in one of the more dramatic versions of the national hymn that the ladies of the Greffe had witnessed in weeks, the civil audition evoked wild forms in my thoughts.
Would I be asked to develop my reasons for requesting that la République bestow the status of citizen upon my shoulders and file? I reflected back to April 2006, facing the representative at the San Francisco Consulate with my personal goals and future plans for a life in France. Family, work, education - I knew that wherever I set up shop, security, stability, the right to work, but also, ESSENTIALLY, the right to vote would prove vital.
As I write this, demagogy and platitudes fly in succession from the speakers, and I wonder how many will be duped by the anecdotal evidence and dubious statistics bandied carefully about. The French are notoriously critical; will they apply their famous Cartesian logic to the promises and vague offers? Oh, de toute façon c'est bonnet blanc et blanc bonnet," sighed an exasperated colleague today.
Today, I am not particularly attached to either France or the United States in strictly national terms. Nations and nationalities comprise superficial nomenclatures that mean far less to me than the people and languages bound within their often ambiguous borders. I love many things about many cultures and resent the geographical distance imposed between me and my family and friends, but at the end of the day, I can see myself living happily on almost any continent (almost because I'm from California- Antarctica is out). Somehow, in the dénouement of the grand scheme of things, I ended up here, and here will I probably remain for a while. Roots are creeping deeper on many levels of late, and I'm happily obliged to picture myself and my loved one(s) in a French frame.
Comments
I have dual citizenship, and ironically enough I still wonder how I REALLY feel about it. I wonder if I would have put all the paperwork through if someone else hadn't been behind me encouraging me to take care of it. I'm happy to have it now, of course, but it's just a question that has been bouncing around in my mind...
I will always be American, of course, but I couldn't see myself living there right now. But I certainly miss by family! Then again, I imagine if circumstances made it necessary, I would readapt rather quickly, but I'm certain I would miss a LOT about France, in spite of the fact that things are far from perfect here! I just think that there's something FRENCH in my blood, even if it has nothing to do with my ancestors or my actual bloodline. It was just meant to be...
Really thought-provoking post, in any case.
delphine