An interesting day at Udlændingeservice

This past Tuesday I spent the majority of my day at the Danish Immigration Service - no, I am not being deported or kicked out - but I had some matters that did need attending to. Since I was originally supposed to study in Denmark from June to December, my student visa was set to expire in January. However, as we all know things changed and I found myself wanting to stay in Denmark for the remainder of the academic school year. Consequently I took the necessary steps towards extending my visa to June or July, by submitting an application for extension to the Immigration Service back in December. I was told that I would be hearing from them in about 2 to 3 months. 

However, my visa was set to expire in 1 month, ahh! But the kind man at the information counter informed me that I am legally allowed to stay in Denmark after my visa has expired if I have a pending application for extension, sweet right?! Yes - well except for the fact that it is now May and I have still not heard from them about their decision. And even though I am technically allowed to remain living in Denmark, I am not allowed to travel outside the country unless I have a permit that will allow me to reenter Denmark.

Bahh so complicated!

In about 8 days Martin and myself are going to Paris on our little getaway! So this is where we come back to Tuesday. I went in to get my re-entry permit to make sure that I would not be shipped back home, nej tak! When I came into the office I took a number... then I looked at the number being helped at the moment... looked back at my number... then whispered "aww shit." The number being helped was 82 and my number was 202, insert very sad face. I was so glad that I brought a book, or else it would have been even more painful!

Now for the interesting part. It was a very foreign experience for me waiting in that office. From a quick count of almost two hundred, I was 1 of 3 blondes and 1 of 13 Caucasians... I was definitely stared at by many in the waiting crowd. Normally in Denmark and Scandinavian I never feel out of place, but this was a different story. There were many people obviously seeking asylum from their tumultuous countries, others were fighting to keep their work permits, and some were securing the citizenship of their spouses (many of whom were older Danish men trying to keep their southeast Asian wives in the country). It was a weird feeling for me, thinking "here I am sitting and waiting to get some sticker in my passport so I could go on a romantic weekend trip with my boyfriend, whereas others were fighting for themselves and their loved ones to remain in Denmark."

Three hours later I finally received my sticker, and finished my book! And now I can safely travel to Paris and be assured that I can return home to Denmark. Vi ses!