Bureaucracy Part :1

I had a fellow PCV stay at my house for the past two days because we needed to go into town in order to get a document signed by the delegues of the Department of Health and Education. In order to teach at the school, we need to get signed permission by both departments. This is a good thing, as it makes sure that the schools know that it is not simply some stranger coming into their schools and talking to the children. We woke up early on Thursday at 9:00 AM. We already had the stamp of the Department of Health, and all we needed was the stamp from the department of Education.

taxi ride #1
"Think we'll be done by noon?" I asked.
"Sure, I mean we need a stamp," she replied, "It can't take that long to get a stamp, can it?"

We walked into the Department of Education with our forms in our hands, where we were greeted by an older man. After telling him what we needed to get done he led us to a room. In that room, we were greeted by another older man. After telling him what we needed to get done he led us to another room. In that room, we were greeted by yet another older man. After telling him what we needed to get done he led us to yet another room. Finally, we were sitting at the desk of an angry looking man, the type of man who, in a country with a 10% unemployment rate, seemed angry that he had to wake up in the morning just so that he could sit in an open office next to a breezeway all day. Both the PCV and I were smiling, our minds filled with what we would do for dinner to celebrate getting our objective done. We hand him our papers.

"I can't sign this." He says, "Your town isn't in my province.
"I beg your pardon?" I asked.
"Yes," He continued, "Your town is in the new province.
"No it's not," I said without any hesitation, "I am south of the new province."
"No, you're in the new province." He said, handing me back the paper.
"Look," I said, my voice getting higher, "My town is in your province. The delegue of Health said so. My bosses said so. Everybody that I have spoken to says so. Are you telling me that everyone else is wrong?"
"Your town is in the new province." He said.
"Come on," the fellow PCV said, "Let's go back to the Department of Health to fix this."

taxi ride #2
"Well, what do we do?" the PCV asked.
"That man is lying to us, or he simply didn't want to do his job." I replied.
"So, we'll go to the Department of Health and tell them what he said."
"Sure."

We enter the Department of Health, where we are greeted by a woman, who tells us to sit down.

"How can I help you." She asks.
"We have a little problem," I said, showing her the form, "We have to-"
"You need to go to the Department of Education," she said, "We already signed this.
"Yes, you did," I said, "The problem, however, is that the man there won't sign it because he says my town is in the other province."
"Oh," she said, "Yeah, it is."
"I haven't told you the name of my town yet."
"Oh."

I told her the name of my town and where I would teach. By this time, another man walked into the room and overheard our discussion.

"If your town is in another province, then you have to go there to get a signature." He said.
"Thank you," I replied, "But my town is in this province."
"Oh," he said, "Yeah, your town is."
"I know." I said.

I handed him the paper, and he points out the problem.

"Yes, all towns listed here are in this province, but someone wrote the wrong commune beneath them."

I thought back to the week before, when we originally got the forms with the other volunteers. I remembered that the group of volunteers before us were the group from the commune that was now on our forms.

"So," the other PCV said, "We need to go back to SIAAP to get the commune corrected?"
"No," The man said, "You need to go to this province."
"But we are teaching in this province. The commune written down is a mistake."
"Oh, well okay. So why didn't the man at the Department of Education sign it? The towns are all in this province."

The PCV and I turn to each other. It was now 11:00 AM.

"Okay, so if we go back to the Department of Education and the man says again that my town is in the other province, what do I do?"
"He won't do that because your town is in this province."
"Just in case," I said, the form trembling in my hand, "Just in case he does give me a problem, who should I call?"
"I don't know." The man says.
"Is there someone here I can call?"
"Oh, we don't talk to that Department." The woman said.
"What about me?" I asked, "Can I call if there is a problem."
"We don't have a phone here for that."

The PCV and I looked at the corded phone on her desk 7 inches away from her hand, and then we look at the phone on the desk next to her.

"How about that phone," I asked, pointing to the phone 7 inches away from her, "Can I have the number which calls that phone right there?"
"No."
"Okay." I said, and walked out.

taxi ride #3
"Okay," the PCV said, "We'll call someone in case he gives us the same problem."
"Sure," I said, "I'm sure that will help."

We walked into the Department of Education with our forms in our hands, where we were greeted by an older man. After telling him what we needed to get done and telling him we were just here and knew where to go, he led us to the same first room we came to when we arrived earlier that morning. In that room, we were greeted by another older man. After telling him what we needed to get done and what room he needed to take us to, he led us to the same second room that we went into the first time. In that room, we were greeted by yet another older man. After telling him what we needed to get done he led us finally to the room in which we needed to go. I turned to the man who led us there.

"So," I said loud enough for the man who denied us the first time to hear, as well as the people in the breezeway, "My town is in this province. I was right when I came here the first time that my town is in this province?"
"Of course." The man says.

I turned around, walk into the room, and smile at the man whose anger seemed to only increase.

"I just wanted to make sure," I said.

We handed him our forms, and he looked over them.

"I can't sign them." He said.
"The commune?" The PCV said in a prophetic voice.
"Yeah, all of the towns are in this province, but the commune isn't."

The PCV and I look at each other, take the forms, and get up. It's funny, we weren't angry; we were taught that this is what Moroccan bureaucracy looks like. After much searching, I managed to find an artist's rendering of the process of bureaucracy



taxi ride #4
"I say we just buy whiteout and rewrite the name of the commune in it." the PCV said.
"No, I'm sure they'll need to do something official to it. We have to go."

We arrive at SIAAP, where we tell our story to the man in charge. We show him our papers, and he tells us to wait a minute while he gets what he needs to fix the problem, leaving us alone in the room.

"You know," I said, "I'm surprised we aren't angry about this."
"Yeah," She replied, "I think it's because we're in the Moroccan flow of time now. When things get done they just get done. Or not."
"It's almost noon," I said, "Everyone's about to leave for the day. We'll have to come back tomorrow and finish this.
"Yeah, I mean after this we're so close. All we need to do is take the corrected form to the Department of Education first thing in the morning."

The man comes into the room with his hands empty. He walked to his desk, rummages through it, and pulls out a bottle of whiteout. The PCV and I look at each other, our faces contorting so that the laughter doesn't burst out of us. After he covers up the first commune, he writes the name of the other commune on top of it. The PCV and I look at each other, but are relieved when he pulls out a stamp to make his work official.

As we leave SIAAP, we both look at each other and laugh uncontrollably as we walk down the street to hail a cab.

taxi ride #5
"All right," We said, "We'll try again tomorrow."