Immigration Update

I should be going to bed right now, buuuuuutt, I know if I don't write at least a little something I'm going to soon slip out of the habit of updating this.

So the news is that I have my residence permit now! (Maybe my work permit too? They only gave me one card...) I thought it wasn't going to be hard to go to the foreign police for the last time to pick the card up, but it was actually probably my most difficult trip there so far.

What happened?
Well, I went really early (arrived before 06:00) but I was maybe the 15th person in line, and it was really cold outside. They don't open the doors till 07:30, so I was prepared with tights, jeans, socks, boots, an undershirt, a long sleeve shirt, a wool sweater, a scarf, and my heaviest jacket, but it was still cold and uncomfortable. And looking at the time and realizing I would be standing in the cold for an hour and a half only made it more cold. Cold. Cold. Cold.  Finally, we got inside and I push a button on the number dispenser according to my particular situation so they would know which office to call me to, but I pushed the wrong button (and got number 24) and didn't realize until everyone behind me in line had taken their numbers! So I went back to take the right number and I got 132. I wasn't sure if it would be wise for me to wait until they called that number because I would have to wait until late in the morning, but I still needed to go into school to do some planning before my lessons would start. I was frustrated with myself :(  So, when they called my first number, I went in to see the officer, who spoke a tiny bit of English. I was grateful for that tiny bit she spoke because I had forgotten my notes about how to ask for the card. She took my passport to another office (while I stood praying that she would come back with my card) and came back and told me to go out and wait by another door with my piece of paper that said 24. So I did as she told me to, but as I stood and watched them call the client numbers above that office door, they went from 20, to 21, to 22, 23, and then to 25, 26, 27... They skipped my number, so I started to wonder if I would have to wait until that office had served all their possible clients, or if I needed to go into the office and demand their attention. My officer from earlier that day had been passing in and out of the hall where I was waiting, so finally I stopped her and asked, "Will they put my number on the sign, or should I go inside and wait?" She told me to wait, then she went in the office again, talked to the other officer, then came out and gave me very quick directions in Slovak. Before I could say, "Nerozumiem" she had disappeared again. I wanted to cry. I asked some people standing nearby if they understood, but they just gave me blank stares. So I stood there praying, and trying to determine how long I would wait before either going into the office or going home and waiting until Wednesday. After maybe 5 minutes, a little Asian man (yes! another immigrant!) poked his head out of the office and said, "dvadsat`štyri?" (Twenty four?) Brilliant! So I went into the office, but the officer behind the counter didn't speak a word of English. I gave her my passport, she did stuff on her computer, then she fished out two cards with my face on them from a box on her colleague's desk, then her and her colleague fussed over the cards and some other papers for a few minutes. Then she had me sign some things. And then she kept telling me something in Slovak over and over very slowly, but all I could understand was, well, nothing. And actually, none of the words were even familiar enough that I could get an idea to start guessing what she was saying to me. Then she started pointing and that helped immensely! She pointed to a date on the paper I had signed and said, slowly, while showing me on her fingers, "jeden, dva, tri!" (One, two, three) Ahhhhh, finally I started to get an idea! Then she started pointing in the direction of offices one, two, and three! Ahhh, so I need to return to office 1, 2, or 3 on that date! (I think that's what she meant anyway!) Think about this next time you're helping someone foreign: Pointing helps a lot!!
Finally, she asked me if I have 4.50 euro in stamps, which I completely understood (even though she didn't even look at me when she asked for it) and gave to her. She stuck those on something and stamped them and messed around with some more papers, and then she gave me my sweet card!