My German tax number
John F. Kennedy famously proclaimed the words “Ich bin ein Berliner” during a speech in West Berlin. In his speech, he described how Berlin was at the forefront of the battle between the ideologies of East and West. What he meant to say was that he was one with the people of Berlin, when he said “all free men, wherever they may live, are citizens of Berlin”. I on the other hand, am an actual Berliner, so “Ich bin Berliner”.
It is a long wait in the waiting room
Before I arrived to Berlin, I tried to get an appointment at the Bügeramt to get my address registered, but due to the huge influx of refugees I was only able to get an appointment in person. German law dictates that I have to register within 14 days of arrival, but my appointment wasn’t for another three weeks, so I was technically an illegal immigrant for about a week. That didn’t matter though, the sensible German authorities knew it was their fault for not processing my request and overlooked the hiccup in my residency status.
In order to apply for an official address, I had to bring my birth certificate and proof of address for the past 5 years as well as several pieces of ID from the nationalities that I claim. So I basically had to bring all my documents with me when I went. Smart me decided to go to an office in west Berlin where they had shorter wait times and English speaking staff.
The next step is to apply for a residence permit at the foreigners’ office. Since I already met all the prerequisites for Berlin state citizenship I got one within two weeks without any trouble. I was then allowed to use public health insurance, state education, work and pay taxes, and cast votes in regional elections.
Foreigners office packed before opening time
Berlin has this strange attitude of indifference where you can be who you want to be and do what you want to do and nobody really cares. We don’t treat people better because they are from a disadvantage background (though we do exercise our duty to help them) nor do we give people the “eye” when they wear pyjamas to the local Kaufhalle. Berliners aren’t tolerant to different people, they’re indifferent. And I love that about Berlin, people accept you for who you are.
After visiting 100+ German towns, I made a map of what every German town looked like
During my time in Berlin, I felt wanted and loved by the city. The motorcycle shop that I bought my bikes at was a local store opened by a Polish-German family. The first time I went there to buy a bike I could not speak German and the owner gladly spoke English with me. Come 4 weeks later I conversed with the son of the owner, a mechanic in the shop, about mechanical issues in somewhat broken German and he was mildly surprised by my progress. Yes, I surprised a German. My bike got stolen the same day I bought it (which was later found) so I made a report at the police station. The police inspector on duty asked me simple short answer or yes/no questions in German and never made a comment on how poor my then two-weeks old German was. Berlin feels like a big village where everyone looks out for everyone else and treats everyone as one of their own.
At the end of my stay I had to go to the foreigners’ office again to deregister. The whole process was just as bureaucratic as registration (especially because I had a Sperrkonto with Deutsche Bank which was blocked by the state government), but very orderly. The waiting rooms were packed with about 400 people in total but it only took two hours to complete the whole process from walking in to walking out.
Hard to believe 400 people shared this one toilet
What surprised me the most was the state of the toilet in the foreigners’ office. Although refugees with small children and elderly pensioners were among those waiting, the only toilet there was spic and span. This is a stark contrast with the toilets on board German regional trains which are sometimes covered in graffiti and stained with urine even on the walls. Maybe migrants aren’t as bad as the locals thought.
Ach, Berlin! Ich lieb dich so!
