Die Sprachstandanalyse

The Sprachstandanalyse is the language test and is, after the basic residency requirement, the first prerequisite in the Swiss citizenship process.  At the Federal level they don’t get more specific than simply “language” because Switzerland has four official languages; German, French, Italian and Romansh and while you’ve probably heard of the first three, the last may not sound familiar.  Romansch is the predominant language for roughly 35,000 Swiss citizens, most living in Graubünden, a canton in eastern Switzerland.  They’re a proud bunch that no one wants to offend and even though you won’t find it used on products in the grocery story it retains its official status.  Fortunately, we won’t have to master it.  Our obligation is to demonstrate competency in only one of the four which, for us, in Basel, is German.  In developing our test strategy, Lisa and I decided that I’d take the test first so I could scout it out and give her a summary of what’s involved.  No need to sweat away time drilling on the genitive if it won’t be on the test.  Paige, of course, places out by virtue of having done all of her schooling in the Basel school system.  So, I signed up for one of the Saturday morning slots, paid my CHF 180 and boned up a bit on the grammar (including the genitive).   As it turned out, any anxiety I might have felt was unwarranted as the test was much easier than expected.  I would even go so far to say that it was fun as the oral part was just a twenty-minute conversation with two nice ladies during which we got carried away and almost went overtime.  We laughed and clucked together like a couple of old hens.  After hearing this, Lisa permitted me to register her and this past Saturday killed it.  It was pass/fail but I’m sure she got an A+ so now, at least from a language perspective, we’re good to go.  The only hole remaining in our full application package is an updated birth certificate confirming that Paige was born.  Come on, Pennsylvania.  You’re holding us up!

Eine Einladung

The other day we received a notification informing us that we’re now eligible to apply for citizenship.  The letter even included an invitation to a presentation led by Mr. Bashi Dürr, a member of the Basel City Council.  Of course, I obviously already knew about our eligibility but I took this to represent a personal invitation.  How nice, I thought, that they’re encouraging us.  It made me feel special.  A few days later I mentioned this to our Dutch neighbor who said that she’d also just received the same letter.  Hmm, I reflected, feeling a bit deflated.  Maybe we’re not so special after all.   She then went on to cynically opine that both of us had probably received the letter due to the lofty status of our western passports and that those from developing countries may not have received the same encouragement.   Suddenly, I not only no longer felt special but felt, dare I say it, profiled, and while this might represent “positive” profiling, it still felt wrong and for us it could quickly turn negative due to association with the deviant currently occupying the Whitehouse.    Sadly, these are the kinds of thoughts that float through our minds these days owing to the frequency with which we must parry inquiries from people we don't even know about the Obergroper’s last tweet.  Would our upcoming interviews with the immigration committee turn into a grilling session during which we would be asked to defend his narcissistic behavior and, by extension, his decisions putting the climate and our entire planet at risk?  In an effort to be rational, I tried to think this through as would a Swiss and decided that my friends and neighbors here wouldn’t take either of these positions.  Our adopted country would have certainly sent this letter to everyone who became eligible this year, including the tired, poor and huddled masses and I was equally sure that we would not be held responsible for Voldemort’s narcissistic behavior.  This perspective immediately lifted my spirits and re-inflated the balloon of enthusiasm I’d been enjoying as we worked through the naturalization process.   And before I forgot, I made a note in my calendar to reserve the evening of May 2^nd to be at the Rathaus to hear what Mr. Dürr has to say.  

Fit für Basel

It may be that for every family project there is one person who champions the effort while the others sort of go along for the ride.  For example, a few years ago we got a new bed and while my input was sought, I was clearly not the driving force.  In the case of our citizenship project, however, it’s clear that I am the driver.  You might think it would be Paige, as she has the most at stake, but it’s not, probably because she doesn’t know any better.  Lisa sees the value and while she’s not reluctant, she’s not chomping at the bit either.  It’s my deal.  In any event, while we wait for our birth and marriage certificates to arrive from the US, I looked into what is coming up and saw that at some point we will be invited to an interview with the Naturalization Committee (Gespräch mit der Einbürgerungskommission).  Have you noticed how the German terms for most things are generally scarier and more intimidating than the English versions?  I wonder why that is.  Anyway, after seeing this I thought no time better than the present to begin preparing and it turns out that Basel offers a class to help you prepare.  It’s called Fit for Basel and it covers everything you will be expected to know about Switzerland with an emphasis on Basel.  Topics include history, culture, economy, geography and government, all addressed in five one and three-quarter hour sessions.  There is even a tour at the end.  Wow, I thought.  What fun!  Everybody should do this, even if you’re not applying for citizenship.  So I texted Lisa, proposing that we sign up.  I noted that the course was almost booked out for the Spring but there was still an opening for the late May option.  Perhaps not enthusiastically but at least not reluctantly she told me to go ahead so I did.  The next day, however, I received a call from a lady at the Bürgergemeinde who mentioned that she looked us up in their system and saw that we were quite early in the process and that the interview for which this was preparation would likely not take place for six or eight months at the soonest.  Wouldn’t we prefer to wait?  No, I thought to myself.  I wanted to do it next week and was disappointed that we’d have to wait until May.  It appeared that I’d actually exceeded their enthusiasm threshold.  Maybe this was a sign.  Feeling a bit like the dog that thought it was going for a walk but learned that the move towards the front door was only to retrieve the mail, I allowed that, sure, we could wait.  I would register again in the Fall when we were further along. 

But I made a note in my calendar.

Referezpersonen

The main application form requires that we provide the names of four Swiss citizens who currently live in Switzerland and who know us well.  Actually, the form asks for at least four, then provides space for four exactly.  To me, the request as worded meant no less than four and the more the merrier so I called the office for clarification, asking if it was okay to provide an extra sheet of paper to accommodate some additional names since we have an abundance of Swiss people who would happily vouch for us.  The guy I spoke with seemed a bit confused by my question, though, and in the end said that they only wanted to see that we knew at least four Swiss people.  Wow, I thought.  We’ve lived here twelve years.  I would hope that we can scrape together at least twelve real live Swiss people who know our names.  I’m sure that the rest of the process won’t be as simple as this.

Das Zivilstandsamt

The Registrar’s office turned out to be in another location, on the other side of town from the immigration office.  It’s a beautiful baroque building just around the corner from the Münster that I’ve probably walked by a thousand times.  Just inside the front door, looking anachronistic in the setting of this grand old building, stood a very modern machine from which I obtained, you guessed it, a waiting number.  Since I arrived just as they opened, I got the day’s first number and had only to wait until the staff was ready.  I was soon called in by a pretty, young woman who asked me to take a seat at a table in a room adorned with several very nice prints of Basel through the centuries.  After ascertaining the reason for my visit, she asked me for my permit, retreated into an adjacent room, then returned twenty minutes later with a yellow sheet of paper with a number of items checked off.  This turned out to be another list of documents we’d need to collect and I could see that we had most of them at home but not the top two.  It turns out that if you were not born in Switzerland you must provide birth certificates issued within the last six months and, if married, the same thing there.  Oohh, I thought, as she explained this to me.  I was born some years ago in a small town in upstate New York that was then still seeking to determine how best to harness electricity.   Computers may have been invented but I was sure there were none actually installed in Ilion, New York at that time.  I think the nice young woman may have sensed my dismay but didn’t let on as she soldiered down the rest of the list before asking if I had any questions.  No, I answered, as I silently considered where to begin while shaking her hand and perfunctorily wishing her a good day.   My negative thoughts soon lifted, though, as I realized that however remote Ilion may have been, or still was, it was sure to be connected to more advanced systems than those to which many other citizenship applicants, in particular those from developing countries, were turning so if they could manage it then I was sure that Ilion wouldn’t let me down.  I relaxed and made a note to contact them as soon as I got home.

Das Einbürgerungsgesuch

Well, we’ve done it.  We’ve taken the first official step in the Naturalization application process.  It wasn’t a big deal really, just a visit to the immigration office (Thursdays only).  No appointment was necessary, nor possible, so we just dropped in, took a number and waited about twenty minutes before being invited into a nice, but sterile office by a pleasant, business like woman in her late-thirties.  After asking us a few quick questions to confirm our eligibility she whisked out a folder of forms and briskly, but efficiently, worked her way through them, high-lighting the documents which we would need to assemble to initiate the process.   It took about fifteen minutes.  She then answered the few questions we had, wished us a nice day and escorted us out so she could move onto the next nice immigrant family sitting anxiously in the waiting room.

On the way home I reviewed the list.  It included nothing surprising or clearly problematic but there was a nested reference sending us to another office, the Zivilstandsamt (Registrar's office), to obtain an extract of information the city had on us.  I wondered what that meant.

The process begins…

It’s been over a year since I last blogged although I did recycle some posts in other media outlets, including a magazine article.  The problem has been primarily a matter of time and believe or not, it takes time to write this schlock.  Remember, I’m not a professional.

That being said, we recently decided that the moment is here to kick off the Swiss citizenship application process and that struck me as a good time to return to the blogosphere.   It should make for some fun and who knows, maybe my observations and digressions will prove helpful to future seekers of the little red booklet.  So, here we go.  Buckle up as we begin the journey during which I’ll bring you inside the process to vicariously experience the thrill, the frustrations, the expense and ultimately, hopefully the satisfaction of achieving fully certified Swissness.    Stay tuned…