Becoming Offish
Today, I took the first major step toward becoming an official resident of Amsterdam: I registered for my BSN number, which is the Netherlands version of a social security number. It is used to open a bank account, take out a mortgage and sign up for health insurance. Much like the SSN in the United States, your life is in limbo until you get one. And today, I got one.
The BSN is an important part of my visa application process. Just to give a quick background, as an American citizen I am eligible to apply for a freelancer/entrepreneur visa under the Dutch American Friendship Treaty (DAFT). It’s not a daunting process, but like most issues concerning immigration, it involves several time-sensitive steps. This step-by-step guide was really useful, so I won’t use this post to go into detail. Here’s a general timeline of how it works.
Make an appointment with the IND (Dutch immigration) to apply for DAFT visa
Make an appointment with the municipality (gemeente) to register with Dutch government
Attend appointment with IND, during which application for freelance visa will be submitted
Attend appointment with municipality during which I will register with the city and receive my BSN
Wait for application decision
Register freelancing services as a business
Work and live Dutch life until... my visa is up for renewal and I go through the process again :-|
It generally takes awhile to get an appointment with Dutch immigration and with the municipality - usually 4-6 weeks. As advised by fellow DAFT applicants, I made my appointment with the IND and then placed a call to the municipality to register. I had a stroke of luck and snagged an appointment for the upcoming Friday, which was two days away, as there had been a recent cancellation. Score. The appointment was made, date and location confirmed, and I was sent on my merry way.
In my previous post, I talked a bit about being an unorganized person moving to another country. So I would be remiss not to share the actual story resulting in the procurement of this seemingly evasive BSN number
I’ll start with a premonition.
Do you ever have those days when everything that could possibly go wrong does? Do you ever wake up with the feeling that today is going to be that crazy day? Well for me, those are the days that remind me of just how unorganized my life can be.
This particular Friday was a stormy one. Not the thunderstorm kind, but the kind that promises to make your quasi-productive life a miserable one. True, Amsterdam weather is unpredictable, but all week the weather had been mild, balmy, dare I say, pleasant. Not on Friday, though. On Friday, the rain fell sideways. That was the omen. I woke up that morning with visions of myself clamoring from point A to point B in the most ungraceful of desperate manners. I knew already what lay ahead.
Believe me when I say, I had every intention, in spite of ominous weather, of having a shenanigan-free day. I padded my travel time and with twenty minutes to spare, I gathered my documents - passport, birth certificate, apostille - and placed them in my bag. I took a final glance at the DAFT guide to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything and realized I might need to bring a residential agreement, which is a form that one would obtain from the landlord in preparation for the visa application. Because my lucky chance appointment was only made two days prior, my order of events was out of whack. There was no mention of the form when the appointment was made, but I called the municipality just to be sure. The operator on the receiving end informed me that I did, in fact, need a copy of my landlord’s ID accompanied by a signed form granting me permission to take up residence at my address. With an hour and fifteen minutes until my appointment, the operator has confirmed my deepest fear of the day - shenanigans. And so it began…
According to Google maps, it would take me about 25 minutes to meet my landlord by bike...for a normal person on a normal day. I hate biking in the rain, more than the average cyclist, and this happened to be windiest of rainy days. Amsterdam is a fairly flat city, so getting around on those heavy beach cruiser style Dutch bikes is quite easy, not to mention, comfortable, however, some roads lead to the occasional drawbridge that, by design, go up and over some of the wider canals in the city.
Imagine pedaling over one of these bridges grasping your handlebars as wind and water pummel your face. Imagine riding your fastest and still moving at a snail’s pace. Imagine clenching your teething and tilting your head against the onslaught of adversity with a look of determination on your rain-streaked face. Imagine that ridiculous melodrama.
By the time I met my landlord I was soaked in rain and sweat. She handed me her ID and sat tight, while I made copies at the nearest print shop. After spending fifteen minutes on the municipality website futilely searching for the rental agreement form, I frantically call their office. “Oh, just type something up,” the operator says, “as long as it’s signed by your landlord, it’ll suffice.” fml.
I raced back to my landlord, returned her ID, and she signed the letter. I ditched my bike and hailed an Uber. My estimated arrival time was 2:43 pm placing me at the municipality exactly two minutes before my appointment. My Uber driver’s name was Kazim - nice guy. He asked how I was doing, and I said I was in a rush. He got the message.
When the clock in Kazim’s car read 2:43 pm, we were sitting at the traffic light across from the city building. He would have to make a U-turn around the meridian in order to drop me in front.
“What time is your appointment?” Kazim asked. “2:45,” I cringed. He whirled around in his seat with a stunned look on his face. I was embarrassed by his concern. The Dutch are known for their punctuality. “Well, the light is red so if you feel safe enough..." I was out of the car before he could finish his sentence.
Like a mad woman, I dashed across four lanes of traffic, into the gemeente building and collapsed onto the receptionist’s desk (this is only a slight exaggeration).
WOMP.
I spent a total of twenty-five minutes with the gemeente official, and all he asked me for was my passport. Part of that time was spent teasing me about the lack of humor within U.S. government agencies (e.g. DMV). The appointment was quick and easy. Everyone was really friendly. No one was tripping.
The detail I missed: My registration with the city can only be provisional. Everything still hinges on my application with the IND (Dutch Immigration), which would have already been initiated if I did not get this last minute appointment. It typically takes place BEFORE registering with the city. It is during that meeting that I will need to present all of the other vital documents (birth certificate, apostille, rental agreement, etc.)
I suppose it's better to be overprepared than underprepared. At least I got my heart rate up for the day.