Catch-up Blitz: German Achorns and German Bureaucracy

I met Mr. Achorn on my seventh day in Germany. I had finally found my way to the correct office to do the correct bit of paperwork to get the ball rolling on all those wonderful doorways: visas to stay and SOFA status to get on base and mail packages and visit the library and get driving all over Europe. I waited in his lobby for forty minutes, reading posters on the wall about immigration laws and proper procedure, and the dire consequences of misinforming a government employee at any point in the process. If there is anything they take really seriously in Germany, it's beer and bureaucracy. He was polite, even quite friendly and joking with me. He answered all my questions and provided explanations when I was confused. He was new in the office, also just moved to Bad Schwalbach. He clearly marked off which items I needed to obtain to get the process rolling, and included his email address if I had any questions. Lovely!
I got started immediately, stopping on the way home to take my biometric pass photos. That evening, I emailed him my proof of insurance, told my boss how important it was to have my name on the mailbox (they won't deliver if your name isn't on the box), and asked for the 100 euros to cover the fee. Then came the debacle where my boss lost her wallet (it was lying on the counter) and canceled all of her bank and credit cards so that she didn't have access to her money either, but after another 5 days or so I was able to show up with everything I needed. Again, Mr. Achorn was friendly and firm, making clear that I was here at the moment on a Tourist visa, and was allowed to be in Germany for three months on that visa. I was expressly forbidden from working without a permit-- including as an au pair. I was here as a guest until I received the appropriate documents in the mail, which was not guaranteed. It would need to be approved by the appropriate body. (I have no idea if that is a committee or just an official.) It was good that I had a contract, because a contract was needed to give approval for work and work was needed as grounds for the visa to stay.
Five days later, after it had all fallen apart, I emailed Mr. Achorn again. My boss wanted me to try to get the fee back (since when does any bureaucracy refund fees? that's a nice dream.) and I wanted to ask my friendly Mr. Achorn what kind of paperwork I needed to do now that my situation had changed. His first question? "Where are you living? I need to know if I am still responsible for you." Typical. Essentially, when I told him, his main point became that I needed to register in the new location in order for him to no longer be responsible for my file. Except that my generous and hospitable friend's rent might go up if I were registered at her apartment, which is ridiculous to start with since I was only one-month guest. I tried to explain this, stressing over composing emails in German and going back in forth with edits. In the end, I made an intentional decision to ignore this, hoping a little silence, a little holding close of the cards, would be in my favor. We will see, when/ if it comes time for me to complete work permit/visa paperwork if this story with Mr. Achorn has a pleasant ending or foreshadows an unpleasant twist. He was waiting for my file to come from Berlin, from eight years ago, so I know that anything that goes into my file here will be there literally forever, though I may never know the contents.
In the meantime, I am grateful for his thorough explanations. I am prepared: I know how much time I have and I know what kind of paperwork I need to be an au pair. I know I need to bring lots of cash to the Auslaenderbehoerde and I need to keep my biometric pass photos. I know I need to get there first thing when it opens and I know that I do not need to be intimidated by the process: I can follow a checklist, and now I have some practice writing inquisitive emails in German. I just may send Mr. Achorn a thank-you note.

A snapshot of a quick flight.

Here I am, Fleeing Egypt! There is no leavened bread in that lunch bag-- just rice cakes spread with my homemade chicken liver pate-- I wasn't going to leave that behind! The German lady who took this picture looked at me like I was crazy. I can't decide which part of this trip was the most difficult-- the 600 yards uphill to this bus stop, or the 1000 yards from where I got off the S-bahn to where I met my friend in the station. I actually had to stop and rest several times! I thought my forearms would fall off.

Here is the street where I have stayed in beautiful, beautiful Frankfurt. They plant so many trees! There is one right behind and right in front of my friend's apartment. It is unbearably lovely to look out the window and see green, even though I can hear the city just beyond. It feels so sheltered and safe, screened from prying eyes, but in an organic way that doesn't isolate. I also notice how much care Germans tend to take with their buildings. They have such amazing high ceilings, and it is typical rather than unusual to find lots of ornamentation framing the different floors and windows-- like molding, but on the outside. The paint is fresh, but the proportions are from a different time. I think most of the buildings left here were built in the 1800s or early 1900s. Germans prefer to renovate, rather than tear down and build fresh. This is not to say that there aren't ugly buildings or neighborhoods too crammed for trees, or very modern buildings, just that as I walk the city I see more evidence of intentionality than neglect. The impression is formed that people who are permitted to make a mark on this town are somehow required to consider their long-term effects. I'm sure it's a pain in the butt if you are trying to build something, but I can see the fruit it produces.

On Saturday it will be a month since I moved here, and I will begin moving my things out. God has been incredibly faithful, and I have now another friend who has invited me to stay while I work things out. She even lives quite near the first friend, so that I am not completely uprooted from all the exploration I have done of this area. We will see what happens in October-- this second friend has someone coming to live with her then, maybe, so it may be best for me to have something else by then. I'm aware-- but I'm not worrying. God provided a second place, He can provide a third, or a fourth, or a fifth, and even if He doesn't and I wind up flying home to the states-- I still trust Him. His good doesn't always look the way I am expecting it to look. Actually, His good almost never looks the way I am expecting it to look, and I find that He has to work on my eyes as He's working good for me, that I may see it. But here at least are two good pictures, which I never would have imagined before. Frankfurt was never on my radar, and who could imagine that lugging a lunch bag, a purse, a bag filled with books, a guitar and two heavy suitcases across two cities could be such blessing?