Visiting the Department of Home
Affairs almost has the same appeal to me as getting an enema and then a
colonoscopy. I have never had a
colonoscopy but I can’t imagine that it’s pleasant or pretty. However, this is exactly what hubby and I needed
to do a couple of weeks ago. You see, we
had to change our surnames for the adoption.
So now our surname is a double barrel and we are now officially, on the
government’s computer system, known as Pierre LeRoux-DuPisani. It’s a long surname and our poor child will
have a very difficult time when he/she first learns to write his/her name. I apologize in advance. Daddy promise to start saving up for your
therapy fund so long. But getting our
surnames officially crunched into one took us almost five hours. Five hours of my life that I will never get
back.
Hubby and I decided to visit the
Department of Home Affairs middle December.
Our rationale was that most people would have already gone on holiday
and that Home Affairs would be quiet. We
were wrong and they were busy. Firstly,
we had to queue outside in the sweltering heat for an hour before we were
eventually allowed into the building and as we turned the corner into their
foyer I almost vomited. It smelled like
a sewerage pipe had burst and the stench of feces hung thick in the air. I wanted to leave but hubby did not allow me
to. Secondly, besides the smell of human
excrement, their air-conditioners were also broken and the place was packed to
capacity with people. So not only did
the place smell like shit it was hot as hell too.
As we got the forms we needed to
complete we learned that we also needed to have copies of our passports as
well. And as fate would have it these
were the only copies we did not have. The
information officer nonchalantly told me that we could have copies made outside
in a van. Seeing as hubby’s handwriting
is much better than mine (his is legible) we decided that he would complete the
forms and that I would temporarily escape the smell of poo and have the copies
made. I have never had to have copies made
by two Nigerians from inside a van that looked like it could double as a
kidnapping and drug smuggling vehicle.
And I hope to God I never will have to ever again. It was a rather surreal experience and they
so overcharged me. Van people are
assholes.
After I got the copies I ventured
back into the shitty sauna and hubby and I played musical chairs with strangers
for a couple of hours. I was appalled when
I realized I forgot to bring wet wipes and hand sanitizer and was convinced that
I would catch some kind of deadly disease.
So when we were eventually called to a counter by a guy with dreadlocks
I was relieved as I thought our ordeal was almost over. But it wasn’t. We told Rastafarian dude that we wanted to
change our surnames to a double barrel and we needed to also apply for new passports
and identity documents with our new surname.
We presented him with copies of our identity documents, passports and
marriage certificate and that was when his eyes glazed over. I wasn’t sure if it was due to too much marijuana,
confusion, the smell of shit hanging in the air or the heat.
Ganja dude then disappeared to
seek out his supervisor and we were unwitting spectators to bureaucracy at its
best. After what felt like an hour he
came back with an irritated looking supervisor who then barked at us “When did you get married? Why didn’t you do
this then?” to which my then very annoyed hubby responded “Because we’re adopting and we are doing this
now!” The bombastic supervisor gave us the stink eye mumbled something to
Dope dude and left. And with a few
stokes on the keyboard our surnames were officially changed. Don’t know why dreadlocks needed to call his
supervisor for that, but at least it was done.
We are now just waiting for our new passports and identity documents and
I think I will pay someone to collect it for us.
In other baby news, hubby and I
also did some shopping for a stroller and car seats. Do you even know how many different brands
are out there? For soon to be new
parents this is an overwhelming experience.
I mean, you don’t want to buy a car seat that costs more than your car
yet you don’t want to buy something that is not 100% save and of good
quality. I also never knew that car
seats came for different stages. There
are car seats from stages 0-3. Also,
they don’t rate them by the baby’s age but with weight. So what happens if you have a fat baby and
bought the wrong car seat? Luckily Google
and my Facebook friends came to the rescue.
After much debate we eventually
found the right stroller and a car seat that is perfect and suitable for stages
0 to 3. And it didn’t cost us an arm and
a leg. So now we have bought all the big
and expensive things. The nursery is
completely ready and we are also now set for travel. It is quite a relief that we are this
prepared already and that we would not have to scramble after we get “the call”. Being slightly OCD, proactive and a lover of
checklist sometimes do come in handy.
So at the moment we are as ready
as we can be for the baby. Now we
wait. What I found amusing from this
experience were people on Facebook’s reactions when we changed our surnames on
our accounts. People freaked the fuck
out and I don’t know why. After several
inboxes I eventually had to explain why we did it and people calmed down. I also had to explain that both hubby and I will
still continue using our original surnames professionally and the change of our
surname was just a formality so that your child can share the same surname as
us. On the plus side, there are only two
Pierre LeRoux-DuPisani’s on Facebook and it’s us. Don’t we feel special…
Till next time.
No comments:
Post a Comment