So I'm busy, so what? What does that mean right? Well let me tell you. I am involved in a court case. I am buying an apartment for somebody (involving wire transfers, trips to the notary, etc, and nothing happens quickly). I am considering starting a business, but need to clarify something with the utility company and decide in under one week. I have to privatize and build on the roof space above my 2 apartments before a law that just passed allows someone else to build there. I am still having the gas line installed where I live (they have not done it yet) and then I have to get a gas heater for the air, and another for the water. I am afraid to think about what else I am forgetting. I read recently somewhere that your temporary memory, your "todo" list in your head can hold (for the average person) seven items. I have no items left!! So when I go crazy, I will have good reason. To illustrate, let me share the story of one "run in" with the paperwork monsters here.
I am renting out an apartment here to a foreigner, and the renter bought a car. To register the car, he had to have a registered address first. (Many people don't bother register their car, they get a 3 year unlimited use and sell permit instead). OK, so we went to the "jhek" to register him, to the same exact jhek I had gone to before in order to take care of some such household issue. They told us this was the wrong jhek, that my jhek is near the Opera. What? But I took care of business there a year ago. But no, they swear it has been many years since my building was transferred to another jhek. After I made them swear they were sure, we went on to the next jhek.
The next jhek was abandoned, except the one woman who could help us, had one person in there. It took a good while. Finally it was our turn and after explaining what we needed, she said she did not know how to do it for a foreigner (which my renter is), so we should go to the "Militsia" and ask Anna something or other how it is done and come back and tell her. Now, I was in true disbelief. How could this be I asked? We should go, and find out how she should do her job, and then come back and tell her??!?! All the time thinking we could tell her anything we wanted. Yes she said, explaining where we needed to go. Well why don't you just call, I asked? Oh, they never pick up the phone. Still in shock, the guy who appeared behind us in line starts repeating what we need to do in his English, seeming very happy to get a chance to use his English, and apparently thinking we don't understand and that is why we keep asking why and what. I told him I understood very clearly that I must go and find out what this womans job it is to know, and come back and tell her, and that I am merely amazed because it is so CRAZY!
So we go to the Militsia and ask the cop in front of the building for Anna. Anna who? Well the Anna who deals with registering people. "Oh, we are calling here 'Anna' now?", he mutters under his breath? And points at which door to go to. So I find out Anna is the head of the department, and assume I have been insulting towards her by using her first name only. Here you are meant to refer to full names and use the formal tense of the verb for elderly and fancy people, and strangers in general at first. "Barev Dzez", not just "Barev". So anyway, Anna (whose last name I never could remember) was not in, but someone else told us what they thought we needed to do, but to wait anyway, because they didn't really know. So we waited, and pretty soon Anna came and told us that actually, she didn't know, that we needed to go to OVIR and ask Tigran Ghulyan. Well that was a name I could remember, since I had been to OVIR, and seen Tigran Ghulyan there years ago. He was actually quite nice. So we headed over to OVIR, an office I thought I would not have to return to for 10 years when I got my 10 year visa, but how naive I was :-)
So we went up to Tigran, who was in the same office (miraculously there was no line) and speaking in three languages found out the answer to the big mystery. "She should stamp a blank piece of paper", he said. It was that simple. That was it.
So now, armed with the answer, we stopped and got xeroxs of the paperwork, and headed back to the woman who didn't know how to do her job. There was an hour to go before the jhek closed, but wouldn't you know it... she had left early that day, and nobody else could do it for us. We had literally ended the day where we started it.
Ahhh.... so now you can imagine, what every step of every "to do" item I listed in the first paragraph involves. This is not an exaggerated story, it is not unusual. Last month at the notary, I spent hours in the one office waiting in long lines, being told to stand in the wrong line, having the notary take in a famous actor, neighbors, and favorite clients ahead of me in line, and finally leaving before my paperwork could be finished.
I am renting out an apartment here to a foreigner, and the renter bought a car. To register the car, he had to have a registered address first. (Many people don't bother register their car, they get a 3 year unlimited use and sell permit instead). OK, so we went to the "jhek" to register him, to the same exact jhek I had gone to before in order to take care of some such household issue. They told us this was the wrong jhek, that my jhek is near the Opera. What? But I took care of business there a year ago. But no, they swear it has been many years since my building was transferred to another jhek. After I made them swear they were sure, we went on to the next jhek.
The next jhek was abandoned, except the one woman who could help us, had one person in there. It took a good while. Finally it was our turn and after explaining what we needed, she said she did not know how to do it for a foreigner (which my renter is), so we should go to the "Militsia" and ask Anna something or other how it is done and come back and tell her. Now, I was in true disbelief. How could this be I asked? We should go, and find out how she should do her job, and then come back and tell her??!?! All the time thinking we could tell her anything we wanted. Yes she said, explaining where we needed to go. Well why don't you just call, I asked? Oh, they never pick up the phone. Still in shock, the guy who appeared behind us in line starts repeating what we need to do in his English, seeming very happy to get a chance to use his English, and apparently thinking we don't understand and that is why we keep asking why and what. I told him I understood very clearly that I must go and find out what this womans job it is to know, and come back and tell her, and that I am merely amazed because it is so CRAZY!
So we go to the Militsia and ask the cop in front of the building for Anna. Anna who? Well the Anna who deals with registering people. "Oh, we are calling here 'Anna' now?", he mutters under his breath? And points at which door to go to. So I find out Anna is the head of the department, and assume I have been insulting towards her by using her first name only. Here you are meant to refer to full names and use the formal tense of the verb for elderly and fancy people, and strangers in general at first. "Barev Dzez", not just "Barev". So anyway, Anna (whose last name I never could remember) was not in, but someone else told us what they thought we needed to do, but to wait anyway, because they didn't really know. So we waited, and pretty soon Anna came and told us that actually, she didn't know, that we needed to go to OVIR and ask Tigran Ghulyan. Well that was a name I could remember, since I had been to OVIR, and seen Tigran Ghulyan there years ago. He was actually quite nice. So we headed over to OVIR, an office I thought I would not have to return to for 10 years when I got my 10 year visa, but how naive I was :-)
So we went up to Tigran, who was in the same office (miraculously there was no line) and speaking in three languages found out the answer to the big mystery. "She should stamp a blank piece of paper", he said. It was that simple. That was it.
So now, armed with the answer, we stopped and got xeroxs of the paperwork, and headed back to the woman who didn't know how to do her job. There was an hour to go before the jhek closed, but wouldn't you know it... she had left early that day, and nobody else could do it for us. We had literally ended the day where we started it.
Ahhh.... so now you can imagine, what every step of every "to do" item I listed in the first paragraph involves. This is not an exaggerated story, it is not unusual. Last month at the notary, I spent hours in the one office waiting in long lines, being told to stand in the wrong line, having the notary take in a famous actor, neighbors, and favorite clients ahead of me in line, and finally leaving before my paperwork could be finished.
posted by Raffi K. at 10:19 PM
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