Monkey on my shoulder: The French Bureaucracy

So, as previously mentioned, I'm going to Nice. To get to Nice, there are two options, you fly ($$$$$) or you train it ($$). Since I'm a low-maintenance gal, I bought a train ticket for Saturday the 25th, for 100 Euros. Making use of the wonderful advances in modern technology, I used my bank card (which here in France allows you to make online transactions like a credit card, very convenient!), and agreed to pick up the ticket at the train station (from now on, referred to as the SNCF or bastards).

A few days before I was due to pick up my ticket, I had the misfortune of losing my bank card. No big deal, it's replaceable, and aside from the mild headache of my account being frozen for a couple days until I got the replacement, it's a problem with a solution. So, I asked the bank to give me a statement which proved that I had, indeed, paid for my ticket, so I could pick it up. Armed with this, and my passport as my ID, I went to the SNCF to get my train tickets that I had already paid for. Little did I know, that the universe was conspiring against me through the form of French bureaucracy.

I'm not sure if I've alluded to this particular phenomenon before in my blogs, but let me just regale how delightful this FB is. Firstly, the French don't believe in saving the world one tree at a time. For them, the more documents, photocopies of documents, photocopies of photocopies, translations, photocopies of translations, receipts, attestations on your honour, Hallmark cards, and all other forms of paper, the happier they will be. Never, never, ever plan on finishing one affair or errand on one day, because you will inevitably be required to bring more documents, more photocopies, and more papers. Also, you NEVER, ever, break the rules. You never tweak the process, alter the order of steps to follow, bypass any parts, or Heaven forbid, override any component of the procedue. Too easy for you? Okay, let's add another obstacle to this race. Offices, institutions, and all other buildings that provide a service (minus restaurants, and you'll see why in a second) are always closed either 1, 1.5 or in some cases 2 hours between 1130-130 on weekdays. The French Lunch Hour is as sacred as their devotion to baguettes and football. So if you're ever in a really big rush to do something between the hours mentioned above, forget about it. It will not get done. You might as well go and sit with the throngs of workers who have left their offices to go have a glass of Muscadet with their lunch.

Okay, so now that you have a better personality profile of FB, I can continue with my story. I've been dealing with the bank since 10:30 am. When I went to the SNCF to reclaim my ticket, they told me it was IMPOSSIBLE to get it without the original card it was purchased with. This is to say, that inspite of my account being debited already, a transaction number, and official documentation from my bank, I had no right to my train ticket. The lady I was speaking with was not at the real train station, but just at an auxiliary branch they have downtown. Thinking that this was a "pawn" , I decided to go to the real train station and sort things out. But then, I looked at my watch, and saw that I wouldn't be able to do anything, because it was the FLH (French Lunch Hour).

So, after a mild cry in the middle of the street (yes, yes, I cry when I get frustrated, got a problem with that?) I went to meet my lovely Colombian friend Walfa, who is like my surrogate mom here. She calmed me down, fed me lunch, and accompanied me to the SNCF. After talking to 4 people, we had the same answer, pretty much to the same word ( I swear, they must have a script), I had to resort to plan B. Plan B included cancelling my original ticket, and getting my money reimbursed into my account, searching for another train ticket online, not finding another one for the same date OR price, and having to buy the second one for 30 euros more, and one day after I had planned to leave.

Complaining about it won't do me any good now, after all, I'm still going to Nice. But, all I could think of yesterday was how ridiculous this whole experience was, how SET in their protocol everyone was, and how not one single person could, after paying my 100euros, get me the freaking tickets... C'est incroyable!!!