Hamdullah. After a muggy, cramped, hour-long cab ride in 101 degree heat I arrived in my province capitol to see what's what about my carte sejour.
Flashback: Before "Eastern Roadtrip 2010: That Time I Almost Died" I brought my typo-riddled carte sejour to the province police to get it fixed. The biggest problem was that it said I was a French citizen, but there were also a couple issues with the spelling on the Arabic half of it. Instead of saying "mutataw3a" which means volunteer under the occupation part, it said "muMtataw3a." Honestly, what the hell is a mumtataw3a?!
The guy that handles foreigners took my carte (and my 100 dh) and, all smiles, said he'd call me in a week with the fixed carte. It would take a week for processing. No big deal! I left his office feeling good about the transaction.
Flashforward: That was 15 days ago, and I now realize I never took down his phone numnber. I just gave him mine.
Since I'm not exactly drowning in work right now, I took it upon myself to go back out to the police station and check on progress. Turns out the guy left for vacation and either forgot to call me or figured it could wait til he got back. I'm actually not that annoyed, stuff like this happens all the time in every country when processing people's paperwork. The important thing is I have a NEW carte and it even says I'm American! I'm one passport away from being a whole person again.
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