The disillusionment

There was a time when I actually would have considered becoming German. That is, as much as Germans would let me become German. You see, one cannot for all intents and purposes, become German. One is either German OR not. And fact of the matter is, most of us are not. I learned that not only am I not, but most likely would not be any time soon.

This fact came to my attention most bluntly during my last visit to the infamous Ausländerbehörder, or German Immigration Office, which by its very name serves to remind visitors who are fortunate enough to find it necessary to have to visit it, that YOU are in fact are NOT one of US. That is when after effectively eight years of waiting and trying to play a game the rules of which seemed to change almost arbitrarily and more than a bit to often, I was effectively denied the very permanent residency that not only was I told three years earlier would be granted, but that was also most certainly necessary in order to apply for German citizenship.

Almost a decade gone by and the question I cannot help to ask myself and anyone else I could hold as captive audience is, "For what?!"

[image: German Reichstag building during landscaping, Berlin, July 2001. 

Courtesy of the blogger.]