The Biometric Man
I placed Sam's passport photos and CD containing the same on the clerk's counter and he immediately asked "What is this?" He said it as if I'd smeared tzatziki on his desk. I'd just completed the biometric part of my Greek resident permit application, which involved signing a sheet of paper twice and having my index fingers electronically scanned after giving him my passport photos and CD (amazingly Greece still uses CDs for computer files!). I slipped Sam's folder on the desk in hopes that she might be able to sneakily piggyback on my appointment. Because of a bureaucratic goof, her fingerprinting wasn't going to be until May 9th. Our lease is up May 3rd and we'll be relocating to Crete as soon as we can leave Thessaloniki. The May 9th appointment date has kept us in an awkward limbo.
Avrio
Greeks say "avrio" (tomorrow) the way Spanish speakers say "mañana." Both cultures have a very flexible idea of what tomorrow means and the locals seem to prefer procrastination and a lack of planning. It's an awkward concept for Americans. In Greece you can feel like everything is headed straight into a brick wall, but then at the last second, the brakes get applied and things work out. It's how they drive, too! But we always wonder why the mystery and delay seem almost purposely built-in?A Greek government employee messed up our application months ago, treating us like separate applicants, instead of as a married couple. Our lawyer partly fixed the issue but we still were left with month-apart appointments for this part of the process. We tried a few times to get Sam's appointment changed, to no avail. Several weeks ago we tried to directly contact an official at the Decentralized Administration, Ms S, to see if it could be fixed. Greeks often seem to prefer terse Delphic oracle-like responses for business questions. Such was the case here. Ms S's email response seemed to hint at a possible solution but left us stressed and confused about what we were supposed to do and when to do it! Our lawyer helped us divine that on the morning of my appointment we should call Ms S to see if Sam could be processed, too. We couldn't understand how calling the day of my 9 AM appointment-- right when they open--could possibly help, but so be it.
The Appointment
As requested(?!) Sam called Ms S during our hour walk to the office and Ms S seemed baffled about us calling her. Not promising. And after we got to the government building it looked less promising still. Lots of people were waiting outside the building's locked doors, which didn't open until 9. It was pretty much chaos when an official guy popped out seemingly to whip everyone waiting into an angry lather. He seemed to be explaining the process for getting inside, but he spoke solely in Greek. Luckily we could discern some of this (e.g, basically, take a number and wait your turn). I'm Gamma 9! Lots of the waiting locals tried tricks to get into the building but he kept shooing them away from the door.Eventually my turn arrived to go into the building. The place had the feel of a rundown elementary school. Now inside, we waited again. Greeks in line got snippy with each other about how long things were taking. Sam overheard in Greek, a guy say "we all have to get to work" to an impatient woman. My turn came and we walked into an even messier room and stopped before a clerk's desk. There were 5 or 6 clerks in this room and each clerk's area was cordoned off with police tape (for pandemic reasons?) and there were corrugated boxes piled everywhere. My whole encounter took 3 minutes tops and before I was done I plopped Sam's materials on his desk. After his initial seeming annoyance, Sam mentioned Ms S had suggested we might be able to get Sam processed, too. We held our breath for the 10 seconds he seemed to silently debate in his mind whether to do it. With a poker face, he spoke. He told me to leave but then he processed Sam, too. Sam thanked him profusely in Greek (which won her a tiny smirk from the beleaguered bureaucrat) and we were off! There's a slight chance we can both get our actual permit cards before we leave for Crete. And we don't have to rearrange our lives for that 3 minute meeting. Of course, karma could make picking up our permits a pain. We have to go back to that same office again, and we might have to fly back to Thessaloniki to get them if they're only available after May 3rd. But to celebrate getting this crucial stop done, we're headed off to Kerkini Lake, near the North Macedonian and Bulgarian borders, in hopes of seeing seeing migratory birds and enjoying some nature...avrio.
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| Waiting to get into the Decentralized Administration |
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| Sam snapped a photo of me waiting before things got chaotic |
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| Sunset, Thessaloniki boardwalk |