A Tale of Two Citizenships

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. It was a time of joy, it was a time of mental anguish. But most of all, it was a time of learning. Learning to cope. Learning to grow. Learning to suppress homicidal tendencies exclusively directed to those with “special status” as servants in this wondrous bureaucratic jungle. A time of love. A time of overtried patience.

Our journey begins in a small town in the middle of Germany. Two souls meet and fall in love. They wish nothing more than to be joined in Holy Matrimony. I suppose I should say, that this simple wish is the actual beginning of our story. You see, the young lady

Photography by Adam Meaney

By way of explanation to those not familiar with the German marriage laws, I digress. It is important to know that there is an absolute division of Church and State in such cases. This means that only -- I repeat, ONLY -- the civil ceremony is legally binding. Said civil ceremony is ministered by a highly competent Justice of the Peace (see above → homicidal tendencies). However, before he or she can minister anything, a so-called certificate of non-impediment to marriage is required from the foreign party wishing to wed. Now this is where the fun begins!

A good time to start dealing with the JoP is about six to eight (6-8) months prior to the planned, I repeat PLANNED, wedding date. Since the aforementioned wedding (civil) was planned for November third (3^rd), our protagonists began their bureaucratic ordeal at the end of April. The JoP assured, I repeat ASSURED, our wed-willing couple that they had heaps, I repeat HEAPS, of time. Heaps. Heap upon heap, if you will. Under civilian (or civil?) circumstances they most likely would have said heaps. Unfortunately, the mill-stones don’t grind quite as quickly as one would expect in relation to the horrendous “service” (yes, that’s right, service!!) fees charged by your average JoP. One could say: “well, they’re just doing their job!” If only they were …

Back to our young couple. She, we’ll call her Sarah, has, as we mentioned, double citizenship in “foreign” countries, but only one passport issued: a British one. In order to acquire a certificate of non-impediment to marriage, both parties must put in an application to open the archives at the magistrate where his or her documents are catalogued. In the case of the man, let’s call him Carsten, this was easy, as his documents were in the same building as the abovementioned JoP. Sarah wrote back to Ottawa (note → Ottawa is NOT in the UK) to have the city records opened and, lo and behold, there was no record of marriage! Off with this important tidbit of information across the pond to be translated, stamped, sealed and delivered to our antagonist. Just to be safe, Sarah included two (2) sworn oaths from her home Church Priest and her Member of Parliament to ensure the validity of the statement: “Miss Lodge, spinster, has never been married and is free in the eyes of the Church and the law to wed.”

This all seemed a wee bit much for out dear old JoP, who couldn’t quite understand how someone could have a passport from one country and a non-impediment declaration from another. He decided to consider the complexity of the matter as he knew it, and put the files in his desk for a while where they would be safe and sound. We might add at this point that our antagonist SHOULD have sent the files to Frankfurt to the Supreme Provincial Court to be analysed, but he thought it might confuse them too, and they’d reject the whole thing. Which would have wasted time, right? Instead, he found a much more productive way to waste time, a way to which he was accustomed. He did nothing. This he started about mid-August.

In mid-September, our heroes decided to give the villain a call and ask how the case was coming along, since they hadn’t heard anything from him yet. He informed them that the files were nice and cosy in his desk, and not to worry. He’d think of some way around the problem and come up with something to do. Sarah then informed him that he could send the files to Frankfurt since she had already invited a brood of angry Englishmen to the wedding, and that she wouldn’t have the slightest quibble telling them where they could find the JoP if it didn’t work out as planned. The files were promptly sent to Frankfurt.

Another four to five (4-5) weeks passed. By this time, it was ten (10) days before the “planned” wedding, when suddenly the phone rang. A miracle! The JoP had gone out of his way and beyond the call of duty to inform our anguished couple that the application had been rejected. It turns out the Court, too, was confused by the situation. Understandably. I mean, who wouldn’t be?

The next morning at two-thirty (0230 h) they departed from Jena and drove to Fulda to pick up the passports (0500 h). A quick call to the British High Commission the prior evening, as well as to the British Consulates in Leipzig, Frankfurt and Düsseldorf left them with the information that Sarah was to go to the (passport) Consulate in Düsseldorf to swear under oath that she was free to marry. Upon arriving in Düsseldorf (0930 h), however, she was informed that said oath must be sworn in Frankfurt, since the officials there were apparently responsible for happenings in the province of Hesse. After a brief discussion, it was agreed that the oath could be sworn and paid for in Düsseldorf, then faxed to Frankfurt where it could be picked up. “Hey sure! No problem!” Sarah thought. Out loud. After all, she had nothing better to do with her time, right? Am I right?

This latest burst of technocratic intellect and reason prompted a quick call back to Fulda, to inform our good old JoP that they would be dropping by that very afternoon to pick up the files and deliver them personally to the Court in Frankfurt. Our beloved finally made it out of Düsseldorf around noon (1200 h), equipped with a map that was at least ten (10) years old and therefore didn’t mention anything about the Cologne-Leverkusen motorway roundabout construction site! (Did we mention they had to get to the Consulate in Frankfurt by five pm (1700 h)? No? Well, now you know.) After an hour in the roundabout and a journey through the countryside they arrived in Fulda at three pm (1500 h), half an hour before civil servant extraordinaire had told them he was planning to go home, only to find Sunny-Boy JoP doing just that! They promptly freed their files from his clenches and headed for Frankfurt. Right into rush hour.

For those not familiar with the Frankfurt city driving conditions, or lack thereof – as the case may be – there is a certain “street” which they lovingly call the Adenauer-Anlage (Anlage meaning, naturally, “complex”). This is more like two (2) four-lane (4) highways separated by a park, nonetheless constituting one roadway. Never mind the fact that the “street” signs are hidden behind mighty oaks.

Either way, our couple managed to find the building in which the Consulate was located (on the 18^th floor) at exactly four fifty-four pm (1654 h). Up the lift, a quick “Hello! Thank you! Goodbye!” and off again to find the courthouse. By six (1800 h) they were on their way back to Fulda.

On the first (1^st) of November – remember, the “civil” ceremony was planned for the third (3^rd) – our over-eager JoP once again went beyond the call of duty and rang our happy twosome. Sarah’s parents had arrived from Canada a few days earlier, and they were fitting the wedding dress when suddenly the phone rang. After the initial confusion regarding the two (2) citizenships, the Court in Frankfurt felt assured by the British-only declaration that Miss Lodge was indeed allowed to marry.

Thanks for the heaps of time…

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