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Пишет Journal de Chaource (![[info]](http://lj.rossia.org/img/syndicated.gif){kind=small} lj_chaource)@ 2018-07-12 19:06:00 |
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Real existierender Sozialismus
As V. I. Lenin used to say, "socialism means bookkeeping". That even the "50% socialist" European states are quite intrusive in terms of stupid bureaucratic problems you encounter every day is quite obvious to anyone who lives in Europe, but perhaps new to Americans.
A guy from San Francisco is newly enrolled in a PhD program in Belgium and Portugal (Europe is united, so no problem, right?), and so he is now enjoying the taste of real European socialism. (Of course, he thinks European lifestyle is great, and these are just random difficulties that could have been overcome if only the university would help him a bit more, etc.)
Keep in mind that his income has just been divided by factor 5 or so, compared with what he likely earned as an experienced software developer in San Francisco.
http://christophermeiklejohn.com/life/20
http://christophermeiklejohn.com/life/20
Getting the visa ended up being a complicated process.
...
Total expenditure on the visa: roughly $1,500, with flights, exams, and paperwork.
...
The day after I receive my visa, I receive an email from my advisor stating that if I’m not in Belgium to sign the forms by March 28th, I forfeit my fellowship. I’m about to book a trip to Belgium, waiting for a response from my advisor that states I can only be reimbursed for the travel to Belgium and not prepaid even though I’m provided with a “moving” allowance, when the Brussels airport is attacked by terrorists.
I have three days to book a ticket to Charles de Gaulle, travel to Belgium by train, and make it there with one day to spare. I arrive and find out I don’t have to physically sign anything after all, and check into my university flat.
[Last minute one-way flight to Charles de Gaulle: $1,800]
...
As an American residing in Belgium, banks don’t like giving you accounts because it’s extra work for them: they are required by the US government to report all of your financials per US law so you are properly taxed. When I first arrived in Belgium, my account with BNP Paribas Fortis was deactivated twice: both times where my tax form that was required to be sent to the US was “lost” and they locked out my money, leaving me in Belgium with no money for weeks at a time. When your residence expires, you are also shut off, so maintaining a residence is key.
...
Now, if you aren’t familiar with the Belgian residence permit process, I’ll outline it here.
- You get a housing contract;
- You go to the commune to register, within two weeks, and a police officer will then come to your apartment sometime in the next 7 days, where you get to pick morning or night, and you have to wait there for them to verify you live there;
- With this form, you can go to the commune with your enrollment, proof of salary, passport, photo, and 22,50 EUR, to register;
- You are then mailed a code within the next 14 days to that address;
- You return to the commune with that code, type it into a computer, and receive your residence card, only for as long as your salary period.
I started on an off-year, which means that my salary, because the university only cuts proof of salary forms every academic year, expires every 6 months. So, I need to renew my residence every 6 months.
Thankfully, this last time my advisor was able to get form vouching for the following year that I was able to use for a 1 year residence extension.
Now, I start by getting a new enrollment. However, I immediately run into problems:
- I can’t enroll without a residence card extended for the period of the academic year;
- I can’t get a residence card without an enrollment.
Deadlock.
...
It’s been three months on the road, living in Belgium (and various other places where I’ve had to speak at conferences or collaborate with peers) since I’ve been home to Lisbon. I have an apartment that I’ve never seen or lived in, that I hope to return to soon, and then I begin the process of the medical examinations, vaccinations, and paperwork needed to get enrolled at the university and become a resident of Portugal. I’ve spent well over 4,000 EUR these past few months, living out of a single suitcase in various AirBnB’s and hotels.
Unfortunately, the university has provided little support, and most of the process has been left to me.
To contrast with the story of an American Ph.D. student in Europe, here is what I remember from my experience as a foreign Ph.D. student in the U.S. on a visa.
All I had when I arrived was a letter from the university that accepted me as a student. With this one single document, I could easily do what was necessary to start my studies:
- get a social security number and card, this took perhaps a week or so;
- go to a bank and get a bank account opened in 10 minutes, with no problems whatsoever;
- tell the university what my new SSN and bank account numbers are,
- give the university a copy of my passport and visa, showing my immigration status.
This was done very quickly, and I never had to think about bureaucratic paperwork again, except that each year I had to get a new student visa. The university had a special office for foreign students, whose only purpose was to advice me and to help me with paperwork.
A couple of weeks after my arrival, I had an interesting experience with the university bureaucracy that opened my eyes to how the U.S. is different from other countries.
It was 1992 and I had very little money when I came to the U.S.; the entire savings of my family amounted to perhaps about $300, which was in my pocket when I arrived to the JFK airport. However, the university expected me to pay about $4,000 in advance for the on-campus dormitory in the first semester. I didn't know about that, and in any case I only had $300. So, very soon I got a letter from the Bursar's Office, telling me that if I don't pay up, they will expel me from the university (which means, I need to go back to Russia since my visa status will be annulled). This was a tense moment. Also, this was my first time dealing with a non-Soviet bureaucracy. I went to the Bursar's Office and met the bursar - a burly man in his fifties, with red face and bulging eyes; his massive skull was completely bald. This bear of a man said, in a soft voice, "Please sit; how can I help you?". I told him that my Ph.D. stipend is only paid out at the end of the month, and even then it won't nearly be enough to pay for the dorm in advance.
What did he do then? Did he start lecturing me about my insolence? Did he threaten me with expulsion and deportation back to Russia? No. He calmly asked me if I would like to pay off my debt in installments. I saw that I could do that over several months. All right, he said; give me a written statement about how much you will pay off every month. And that was it; the problem was solved. True, I had to count my money carefully for the next few months, but that was life. I realized for the first time what it means for a country to have a culture of trust.
For comparison, here is what I had to do in order to begin working as a post-doc in Germany (this was back in 2002). To be fair, more bureaucracy is to be expected for an appointment at a state university; but then, pretty much all universities in Germany and in Europe are government-operated.
1. Before I can have my job, I need to request formally an appointment as a research assistant, and submit:
- An appointment request form
- A Curriculum Vitae
- Birth certificate
- 2 passport photographs
- A personal information form (marital status etc.)
- An "informal explanation" of my computer skills (even though I was appointed as a physicist, not as an IT specialist; perhaps, everybody needs to do that)
- Copy of my Ph.D. diploma
- A form to certify that I am not a member of about 50 extremist organizations, and an additional form to say that I am not in any way connected with the Scientology Organization
(all the above forms in triplicate)
- Results of a medical examination to certify physical fitness for the appointment duties - the medical doctor must be licensed in Bavaria
- "Impfpass" (the register of inoculations) - I didn't have it but it was produced for me by the local doctor
- German residence permit (stamped in the passport)
- Residence registration (Anmeldung) - everyone needs to inform the government of their place of residence. This requires a visit to Einwohneramt.
- German work permit (requires a visit to Arbeitsamt)
- "Fuehrungszeugnis", i.e. "certificate of demeanor", equivalent to a certificate of having no police record (a visit to Einwohneramt and 2-3 weeks of waiting)
- A medical insurance contract (must be a private insurance company)
- Bank account information (needs to be a German bank, but opening an account is easy once you have the above documents)
2. After the appointment has been granted, I received a solemn-looking certificate of appointment ("Urkunde"). Then I needed to submit:
- A form certifying that I have received the certificate of appointment (in duplicate). That form I "must" sign before the specified starting date of appointment. So, I had to start all this well in advance.
- A form certifying that I have taken an oath to fulfill my duties and to remain loyal to the German law, "so help me God". (in duplicate)
- Another form which I declined to carry to somebody else's office [they said, okay, we'll use the campus mail then... Duh!]
3. Getting a private medical insurance: requires a bank account (to withdraw the monthly payment of $150) and a separate medical examination by a Bavarian doctor (the examination I already passed does not suffice).
4. Getting a bank account requires only the passport and some cash. The clerk misspelled my name on one of the forms and the bank machine prints it incorrectly on receipts - they say it's now impossible to change but that I shouldn't worry because my name is printed correctly everywhere else. [By the way, it is impossible to deposit money in an ATM machine, this requires a personal visit to the bank.] The bank is only open 8:30am to 1 pm and also 2 pm to 4 pm on some weekdays. Internet banking requires using one-time passwords; the list of such passwords is being mailed to me.
Bank accounts are only opened in the name as written in the passport (unlike e.g. in England where I could specify my preferred spelling).
5. I needed to get an "income tax card" - this must be done at the place of my registered residence, i.e. again a visit to Einwohneramt. This card needs to be mailed to the "Finanzamt".
6. The University offered to pay me $13/mo. extra into a special "deeded savings account" ("vermoegenswirksame Anlage") which I will not be able to access for 7 years. If I agree, must also pay $27/mo. into this account out of my own money (and this is all post-tax, not pre-tax!). I can of course make a larger contribution. The money will be invested into a mutual fund or into a fixed-income security giving me 2% per annum. Getting this set up requires at least another hour at the bank, and I'm not sure I will be able to get my money back if I decide to leave Germany. So I decided to forgo the grand sum of $13/mo. and not have this additional hassle of setting up an investment account. (I was told at the bank that it is usual practice of mutual funds here that you can only deposit money into them for the first 6 years but not withdraw.) What morons.
7. I need to get a university ID - it requires a photograph. Still don't have it after two weeks because the department secretary forgot about it. Got it after 3 weeks: it's a flimsy piece of paper with my photo badly clipped to it and a smeared stamp over the photo. The text is typewritten. (I expected some kind of laminated photo card.)
9. When I move into my new apartment in Munich, I'll have to register as a resident of Munich at that address. This will probably require another visit at Einwohneramt, since I was previously registered in another German city where I arrived from the U.S. and waited until things were sorted out.
10. I had a large number of books shipped from the U.S. to Germany. To clear the German customs for the shipment of my boxes, I need to submit:
a) a notarized copy of my passport,
b) original or a notarized copy of my registration (Anmeldung) in Germany,
c) proof of residence in the USA, at least 12 months,
d) a detailed list of shipping contents in the German language.
This has to be sent by mail to Hamburg, and until then, the shipment is held at their storage at my expense.
11. To start getting salary, I needed to mail my "income tax card" together with the information about the bank account to a local government payroll office. They lost my bank account information and kept silence about it for 2 weeks. When I didn't get any money deposited by the beginning of October, I started to call them. They only answer calls between 8 am and 12 pm. Finally I got them on the phone and faxed the missing information to them; they promised that the first paycheck will be deposited within a week. (Some money was soon deposited, although it was only an advance payment - they need more time to figure out how much exactly to withhold and so on.)
My own "integration" into the German society was smoother than this scary listing suggests, because I had a head start: an apartment was already reserved for me in Munich (would have been a huge pain otherwise!), I had a valid German residence permit - and I already could speak enough German to interact with the bureaucrats. A colleague coming from New Zealand had to wait 7 months until his salary was paid.
Another important difference between German bureaucrats and those in other countries is that the Germans will actually help you if you show clearly that you understand them and intend to honestly follow all the rules. They are on your side, if you are on their side. I never had any trouble with German bureaucracy.
As V. I. Lenin used to say, "socialism means bookkeeping". That even the "50% socialist" European states are quite intrusive in terms of stupid bureaucratic problems you encounter every day is quite obvious to anyone who lives in Europe, but perhaps new to Americans.
A guy from San Francisco is newly enrolled in a PhD program in Belgium and Portugal (Europe is united, so no problem, right?), and so he is now enjoying the taste of real European socialism. (Of course, he thinks European lifestyle is great, and these are just random difficulties that could have been overcome if only the university would help him a bit more, etc.)
Keep in mind that his income has just been divided by factor 5 or so, compared with what he likely earned as an experienced software developer in San Francisco.
http://christophermeiklejohn.com/life/20
http://christophermeiklejohn.com/life/20
Getting the visa ended up being a complicated process.
...
Total expenditure on the visa: roughly $1,500, with flights, exams, and paperwork.
...
The day after I receive my visa, I receive an email from my advisor stating that if I’m not in Belgium to sign the forms by March 28th, I forfeit my fellowship. I’m about to book a trip to Belgium, waiting for a response from my advisor that states I can only be reimbursed for the travel to Belgium and not prepaid even though I’m provided with a “moving” allowance, when the Brussels airport is attacked by terrorists.
I have three days to book a ticket to Charles de Gaulle, travel to Belgium by train, and make it there with one day to spare. I arrive and find out I don’t have to physically sign anything after all, and check into my university flat.
[Last minute one-way flight to Charles de Gaulle: $1,800]
...
As an American residing in Belgium, banks don’t like giving you accounts because it’s extra work for them: they are required by the US government to report all of your financials per US law so you are properly taxed. When I first arrived in Belgium, my account with BNP Paribas Fortis was deactivated twice: both times where my tax form that was required to be sent to the US was “lost” and they locked out my money, leaving me in Belgium with no money for weeks at a time. When your residence expires, you are also shut off, so maintaining a residence is key.
...
Now, if you aren’t familiar with the Belgian residence permit process, I’ll outline it here.
- You get a housing contract;
- You go to the commune to register, within two weeks, and a police officer will then come to your apartment sometime in the next 7 days, where you get to pick morning or night, and you have to wait there for them to verify you live there;
- With this form, you can go to the commune with your enrollment, proof of salary, passport, photo, and 22,50 EUR, to register;
- You are then mailed a code within the next 14 days to that address;
- You return to the commune with that code, type it into a computer, and receive your residence card, only for as long as your salary period.
I started on an off-year, which means that my salary, because the university only cuts proof of salary forms every academic year, expires every 6 months. So, I need to renew my residence every 6 months.
Thankfully, this last time my advisor was able to get form vouching for the following year that I was able to use for a 1 year residence extension.
Now, I start by getting a new enrollment. However, I immediately run into problems:
- I can’t enroll without a residence card extended for the period of the academic year;
- I can’t get a residence card without an enrollment.
Deadlock.
...
It’s been three months on the road, living in Belgium (and various other places where I’ve had to speak at conferences or collaborate with peers) since I’ve been home to Lisbon. I have an apartment that I’ve never seen or lived in, that I hope to return to soon, and then I begin the process of the medical examinations, vaccinations, and paperwork needed to get enrolled at the university and become a resident of Portugal. I’ve spent well over 4,000 EUR these past few months, living out of a single suitcase in various AirBnB’s and hotels.
Unfortunately, the university has provided little support, and most of the process has been left to me.
To contrast with the story of an American Ph.D. student in Europe, here is what I remember from my experience as a foreign Ph.D. student in the U.S. on a visa.
All I had when I arrived was a letter from the university that accepted me as a student. With this one single document, I could easily do what was necessary to start my studies:
- get a social security number and card, this took perhaps a week or so;
- go to a bank and get a bank account opened in 10 minutes, with no problems whatsoever;
- tell the university what my new SSN and bank account numbers are,
- give the university a copy of my passport and visa, showing my immigration status.
This was done very quickly, and I never had to think about bureaucratic paperwork again, except that each year I had to get a new student visa. The university had a special office for foreign students, whose only purpose was to advice me and to help me with paperwork.
A couple of weeks after my arrival, I had an interesting experience with the university bureaucracy that opened my eyes to how the U.S. is different from other countries.
It was 1992 and I had very little money when I came to the U.S.; the entire savings of my family amounted to perhaps about $300, which was in my pocket when I arrived to the JFK airport. However, the university expected me to pay about $4,000 in advance for the on-campus dormitory in the first semester. I didn't know about that, and in any case I only had $300. So, very soon I got a letter from the Bursar's Office, telling me that if I don't pay up, they will expel me from the university (which means, I need to go back to Russia since my visa status will be annulled). This was a tense moment. Also, this was my first time dealing with a non-Soviet bureaucracy. I went to the Bursar's Office and met the bursar - a burly man in his fifties, with red face and bulging eyes; his massive skull was completely bald. This bear of a man said, in a soft voice, "Please sit; how can I help you?". I told him that my Ph.D. stipend is only paid out at the end of the month, and even then it won't nearly be enough to pay for the dorm in advance.
What did he do then? Did he start lecturing me about my insolence? Did he threaten me with expulsion and deportation back to Russia? No. He calmly asked me if I would like to pay off my debt in installments. I saw that I could do that over several months. All right, he said; give me a written statement about how much you will pay off every month. And that was it; the problem was solved. True, I had to count my money carefully for the next few months, but that was life. I realized for the first time what it means for a country to have a culture of trust.
For comparison, here is what I had to do in order to begin working as a post-doc in Germany (this was back in 2002). To be fair, more bureaucracy is to be expected for an appointment at a state university; but then, pretty much all universities in Germany and in Europe are government-operated.
1. Before I can have my job, I need to request formally an appointment as a research assistant, and submit:
- An appointment request form
- A Curriculum Vitae
- Birth certificate
- 2 passport photographs
- A personal information form (marital status etc.)
- An "informal explanation" of my computer skills (even though I was appointed as a physicist, not as an IT specialist; perhaps, everybody needs to do that)
- Copy of my Ph.D. diploma
- A form to certify that I am not a member of about 50 extremist organizations, and an additional form to say that I am not in any way connected with the Scientology Organization
(all the above forms in triplicate)
- Results of a medical examination to certify physical fitness for the appointment duties - the medical doctor must be licensed in Bavaria
- "Impfpass" (the register of inoculations) - I didn't have it but it was produced for me by the local doctor
- German residence permit (stamped in the passport)
- Residence registration (Anmeldung) - everyone needs to inform the government of their place of residence. This requires a visit to Einwohneramt.
- German work permit (requires a visit to Arbeitsamt)
- "Fuehrungszeugnis", i.e. "certificate of demeanor", equivalent to a certificate of having no police record (a visit to Einwohneramt and 2-3 weeks of waiting)
- A medical insurance contract (must be a private insurance company)
- Bank account information (needs to be a German bank, but opening an account is easy once you have the above documents)
2. After the appointment has been granted, I received a solemn-looking certificate of appointment ("Urkunde"). Then I needed to submit:
- A form certifying that I have received the certificate of appointment (in duplicate). That form I "must" sign before the specified starting date of appointment. So, I had to start all this well in advance.
- A form certifying that I have taken an oath to fulfill my duties and to remain loyal to the German law, "so help me God". (in duplicate)
- Another form which I declined to carry to somebody else's office [they said, okay, we'll use the campus mail then... Duh!]
3. Getting a private medical insurance: requires a bank account (to withdraw the monthly payment of $150) and a separate medical examination by a Bavarian doctor (the examination I already passed does not suffice).
4. Getting a bank account requires only the passport and some cash. The clerk misspelled my name on one of the forms and the bank machine prints it incorrectly on receipts - they say it's now impossible to change but that I shouldn't worry because my name is printed correctly everywhere else. [By the way, it is impossible to deposit money in an ATM machine, this requires a personal visit to the bank.] The bank is only open 8:30am to 1 pm and also 2 pm to 4 pm on some weekdays. Internet banking requires using one-time passwords; the list of such passwords is being mailed to me.
Bank accounts are only opened in the name as written in the passport (unlike e.g. in England where I could specify my preferred spelling).
5. I needed to get an "income tax card" - this must be done at the place of my registered residence, i.e. again a visit to Einwohneramt. This card needs to be mailed to the "Finanzamt".
6. The University offered to pay me $13/mo. extra into a special "deeded savings account" ("vermoegenswirksame Anlage") which I will not be able to access for 7 years. If I agree, must also pay $27/mo. into this account out of my own money (and this is all post-tax, not pre-tax!). I can of course make a larger contribution. The money will be invested into a mutual fund or into a fixed-income security giving me 2% per annum. Getting this set up requires at least another hour at the bank, and I'm not sure I will be able to get my money back if I decide to leave Germany. So I decided to forgo the grand sum of $13/mo. and not have this additional hassle of setting up an investment account. (I was told at the bank that it is usual practice of mutual funds here that you can only deposit money into them for the first 6 years but not withdraw.) What morons.
7. I need to get a university ID - it requires a photograph. Still don't have it after two weeks because the department secretary forgot about it. Got it after 3 weeks: it's a flimsy piece of paper with my photo badly clipped to it and a smeared stamp over the photo. The text is typewritten. (I expected some kind of laminated photo card.)
9. When I move into my new apartment in Munich, I'll have to register as a resident of Munich at that address. This will probably require another visit at Einwohneramt, since I was previously registered in another German city where I arrived from the U.S. and waited until things were sorted out.
10. I had a large number of books shipped from the U.S. to Germany. To clear the German customs for the shipment of my boxes, I need to submit:
a) a notarized copy of my passport,
b) original or a notarized copy of my registration (Anmeldung) in Germany,
c) proof of residence in the USA, at least 12 months,
d) a detailed list of shipping contents in the German language.
This has to be sent by mail to Hamburg, and until then, the shipment is held at their storage at my expense.
11. To start getting salary, I needed to mail my "income tax card" together with the information about the bank account to a local government payroll office. They lost my bank account information and kept silence about it for 2 weeks. When I didn't get any money deposited by the beginning of October, I started to call them. They only answer calls between 8 am and 12 pm. Finally I got them on the phone and faxed the missing information to them; they promised that the first paycheck will be deposited within a week. (Some money was soon deposited, although it was only an advance payment - they need more time to figure out how much exactly to withhold and so on.)
My own "integration" into the German society was smoother than this scary listing suggests, because I had a head start: an apartment was already reserved for me in Munich (would have been a huge pain otherwise!), I had a valid German residence permit - and I already could speak enough German to interact with the bureaucrats. A colleague coming from New Zealand had to wait 7 months until his salary was paid.
Another important difference between German bureaucrats and those in other countries is that the Germans will actually help you if you show clearly that you understand them and intend to honestly follow all the rules. They are on your side, if you are on their side. I never had any trouble with German bureaucracy.
