Making Our Status Official

When you move from one German city to another, you're supposed to register your new address. According to the Munich government website, we had two weeks after moving here to do so. But check out the headline at the top of the bureau's homepage:

Fearing the worst, I plowed through unpacking and organizing for two days till I felt comfortable that our apartment was functional. Then I made a plan to get to the closest Bürgerbüro as soon as it opened.

Last Thursday morning, 8:40 am. Office opened at 8:30 am. My number? 71. Ugh.                                    

Some people were outside smoking or considerately keeping large baby carriages out of the precious space available in the waiting room. (Because it was the size of a large living room, with a photo booth in the middle of it.)

People with babies and some elderly folks were ushered in out of order, which I didn't have a problem with. But it did make what looked to be an already long wait longer. 

Periodically I'd glance at the queue board to see how quickly things were progressing. From where I sat, I could only see the counter numbers listed in a vertical column; I had to stand and lean out to see the number being served at each counter.

At one point I glanced up at the infrequent buzz of the board to see that all of the numbers appeared to be served by the same counter: 6. So, I could only see...666.

Then I noticed a woman smirking at a man across the room from her. Had they also noticed the board? Was love blooming in the Bürgerbüro? Nope to both.

I followed their eyes up to the ceiling, which consisted of exposed pipes, painted blue to match the flat surface behind them. One of the pipes was leaking. 

No rain outside. No thumps, groans, or creaks to indicate a flaw or break. Just water dripping steadily from above. It took some astonished stares and one woman to actually slip in the subsequent puddle before the information guy in the lobby found something to put under the leak. 

Finally, my number buzzed onto the board at 11:05 am. Okay. I geared myself up for the bureaucratic drudgery ahead. I had backup copies of the requested documents, proof of identity for both me and Larry, and papers I knew they wouldn't need, but brought along just in case.

Münchner Kindl
from the city's coat of arms

The "counters" were actually desks with numbers hanging over them, arranged around the edges of an open office area in the back. My representative asked a few questions, did some quick data entry, and printed out our new address to paste onto our existing ID cards.

Even with a few interruptions by other workers in the room along the way, she managed to hand me my final confirmation of registration at 11:16 am. 

Two-and-a-half-hour wait. Eleven-minute process. But now we are officially Münchner.

Getting to this point was a bit more of a struggle, however, which I'll talk about in my next post...