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Residency: bad news / good news

The IND (the Dutch immigration folk) have a spiffy website. They have an 0900 number with friendly and cheerful staff. They have all the documents you need as pdf downloads, usually in both Dutch and English. And so I am regularly, consistently, and enormously surprised at the regular, consistent, and enormous gap between what I think I ought to be doing with regard to my residency situation and what I actually should be doing.

Here’s what I thought was going on. I’ve been here a little over six years, on short-term permits, and after five years one can apply for a permit for unlimited residency. But I didn’t do that, because they do income tests that I couldn’t meet. My current permit is tied to my appointment at the university, which ran out January 1st. But since I became Dr de Jager quite recently, I could apply under the rules for “Highly educated recent graduates”, granting a year to look for work. If I found a good enough job in that year, that would give me the income to use the five-year rule to get permanent residency (or near-as-dammit).

Almost every single statement in the above summary is wrong.

First up, the five-year rule doesn’t apply to my first two years here, which were officially under a study exchange programme with New Zealand. It also wouldn’t apply to a “work-seeking” year, which in any case I couldn’t apply for because while I did graduate here my permit at the time was for work, not study.1

Secondly, in order to apply the five-year rule I would have to continue working, on the same kind of permit I have now, for five years. This probably would have been possible, if I had known about it in advance: another semester of teaching would have done it. But I didn’t, and now it’s too late. Because:

Thirdly, and most importantly, the five-year rule involves a most strict attention to continuous legal residency: the one and a half months between the end of my previous permit and the date of my application for a new one would reset my accumulated residency to zero.

Oops.

(The same rules apply to work: lacking a contract for the month of February would interfere just as much as lacking a residence permit for January.)

Perhaps you can imagine my distress at this news. It must have been quite a sight, because the nice lady at the IND, after explaining this to me twice, had to go off and fetch some backup.

The first thing the backup asked me was if I had a girlfriend. (You might think, given my beardy good looks and charming personality, that I would get this sort of thing rather often; if you thought that, you would be surprised to learn that in fact I don’t. Pretty much never, in fact, and especially not from government employees during working hours.) Somewhat bemused, I answered that yes, I did. Was she Dutch? No, Greek. Even better! Did she live here? Yes, we live together. Problem solved!

As a family member of an EU citizen registered as a Dutch resident, I am entitled to a five-year residence and work permit. (As an added bonus, at the end of those five years I can apply for permanent residency.) We have to prove that we’re an honest-truly couple, but we don’t have to be married. (There are plenty of good reasons to get married, but “because I need a residence permit” is not one of them.) It will cost €41, instead of €331 (!).

In some ways it’s almost a disappointment. I had the vague idea that after working at a university for four years, and doing an MSc and a PhD at Dutch institutions, the qualifications I had accumulated might help argue the case for letting me live in the country. Instead it’s who I’m sleeping with that makes the difference.

So much for the knowledge economy.

Notes:

  1. Slightly more complicated, for those really keeping track: under a related rule I could indeed apply for a zoekjaar, but it would force me to get a separate work permit, which is a terrible pain. One of the major attractions of the permanent residency option is to be able to work wherever, rather than constantly having to have my contracts approved by the immigration folk. []

Annual clearing sale at Nijhof & Lee

I probably shouldn’t talk about this, to keep the competition down, but… The fabulous typography/design/art bookstore Nijhof & Lee is having their annual clearance sale. Except that last year they didn’t have one, so this is a biannual (even more stuff worth drooling over, no doubt). February 6 and 7, from 10am. I’ve never been to their sales, so I don’t know how busy it will be, but given their reputation I expect wedging myself inside is going to take some kind of specialised tool.

October: Chiang by Small Beer

Hey here’s happy news: Small Beer Press will be bringing Ted Chiang’s Stories of Your Life and Others back into print in October. A book I’ve wanted for ages, and a publisher I like paying: win!

Sad news: Lhasa no more

I only recently learned that the wonderful Lhasa is no longer with us. She died on January 1st, at the age of 37, of breast cancer.

Words for me

From the back cover of “Typographie als voertuig van de wetenschap” (“Typography as vehicle of science”):

Dit is op aarde van
al ‘t kwaad de grootste straf:
Wie eenmal lezen kan,
die leert het nooit meer af.

Of all the evil on the earth
this is the greatest pain:
Who once has learned to read,
can never give up again.

Koos J. Versteeg

Our house smells of egg

Olga had a wee accident with the stovetop: a pot boiled over and put out the gas flame, and she didn’t notice for a few minutes so the kitchen started smelling suspiciously gassy. We opened a window up wide to let it out.

That’s what some idiots in the park outside decided to take advantage of. They hurled an egg through the open window, so that it smashed against the wall and ceiling. Then they ran off.

We were lucky: the egg hit the ceiling above the bookcase, not the bookcase. It dripped down the wall behind the bookcase, but not onto the books. It just clipped my beautiful Book of Kells, but only one edge of the cover got eggy and nothing made its way into the pages.

Still, after taking all the books off the shelves and wiping up behind them, picking up the bits of eggshell and mopping the carpet, the apartment smells distinctly eggy. Tomorrow will be worse, I presume.

Defence photos

I’ve posted a few photos from my and Michael Franke’s PhD defences. There are not many, and it’s a bit of an egocentric selection. There were in fact lots of photos of other people, crowd shots etc, but none of them turned out. Really honestly truly! Lots of low-light blurred shots, and some from the party with flash where everyone is standing around looking miserable, or facing away from the camera. A shame, really.

Amarok: recently added

Here’s another beautiful secret feature of the amazing Amarok music player: flexible “recently added” search.

There’s a “Recently Added Albums” widget that shows five albums, but I usually add more than that in a batch (I only synchronise between my two computers every now and then) so it’s not so useful for me. But a KDE community forums post tells me that putting added:<1week in the search bar will have the obvious effect. That is bloody awesome.

Also, I’ve just discovered how to randomise the current playlist: “Add a playlist sorting level” (the funny little icon above-left of the playlist itself), “Random”. That’s a killer feature.1

As if that’s not enough: the latest release apparently adds “labels”2 which I’ve been hankering after since pretty much forever.3

Amarok devs: you rock.

Notes:

  1. It’s not shuffle: it resorts the current playlist in random order, so you can make your own adjustments as you like. I wonder how it handles appends? []
  2. Tags, in the sense of “tagcloud”, except they apparently already use that term for track metadata. []
  3. After five minutes tinkering, I haven’t yet figured out how to use the labels I’ve set, in collection filtering or in dynamic playlists, but I presume I’ll get it sorted eventually. []

The lowering standards of academia

Since around 1:30 yesterday afternoon, I am de zeer geleerde heer Dr de Jager.

Difficult to imagine, isn’t it?

The invigilation was relatively gentle (my committee were kind), and my mother startled all the straight-laced Dutch folks by bursting out in Maori as the diploma was handed over, something ringing and powerful that left tears in my eyes. (The main emotional tone of the Dutch ceremony is nervousness, counterbalanced with a bit of pomposity.1 Some heartfelt emotion to cut through it was very welcome indeed.) My supervisor gave a laudatio both honest and kind (impressive feat, actually), which also warmed my heart.

We arranged a joint defence with my dear friend, colleague, and yoga teacher Michael Franke (who delivered a stunning performance in the inquisition, and who is now of course Dr Franke). After the defences we took our respective committees and families out to lunch; with twenty people the restaurant had to separate us into two tables and by some curious alchemy we ended up with a “committee table” and a “family table”. There was some complaint that the committee were insufficiently drunken when we left, but they will have to take responsibility for that themselves.

During the meal I felt a tickling on the back of my neck… scratched and scrabbled… and turned up the price tag of the swanky shirt bought for the occasion. Rather glad it wasn’t dangling out the back of my jacket throughout the proceedings!

Many thanks to everyone who came out on the day, and also to all those who have sent congratulations. (I am constitutionally opposed to all things Facebookish, but a solid wall of friendly wishes does warm the cockles of one’s heart.) Several people took photos, I’ll try to get them online in the coming week.

And most importantly: there is still the party! Friday this week, starting at 20.00, in Cafe ‘t Geveltje on the Bloemgracht. There will be some live Greek music and some recorded something-else (danceable, we hope), and the plan is to rock it out until they kick us out.

Notes:

  1. I’m fond of the rolling Dutch phrases and glad I chose them rather then the slightly insipid English equivalents. But nobody could call them personal. []

Countdown

This time tomorrow, I’ll be just breaking into a sweat as the committee tear into my dissertation.

Please wish me all the luck you can spare, I’ll need all of it.