When I first entered Germany a little more than a year ago, my visa was tied to my work as an au pair. As a South African, I am not allowed to stay in the country without express permission, like that au pair visa. My job came to an end in October. Once my work terminated, so was my permission to be in the country. In August, before I was a victim of an expiring visa and through nothing short of a miracle, I was one of less than two thousand people to date to be given a new kind of German residence permit. That residence permit I received, only put into action in June this year, is called the Chancenkarte(Opportunity card). While my visa allowed me to enter into Germany, the residence permit is a document attesting my right to stay here, rather than exclusively giving me the right to cross the border. The residence permit, as suggested by its name, was granted on the basis of my promise rather than a job contract or university enrollment. My German skills, tertiary education and a few other secondary factors are assessed to determine if I have the potential to be a productive part of German society. Or perhaps, whether I represent a risk. Thankfully, I was granted the one year permit, which terminates in mid-August next year.
One of the best ways to elongate my stay in Germany—which I’d like to do, for clarity—is to get a full-time job. While the Chancenkarte does enable me to stay in Germany, I am only allowed to work a twenty-hour week. I am, however, entitled to apply for a full-time position. Upon signing the contract, I can then submit it, along with some other documents, to the German government. Once they interview me and review the data, I would be granted a different residence permit: Aufenthaltserlaubnis für Fachkräfte mit akademischer Ausbildung (Scary sounding document, right? It translates to Residence permit for qualified skilled workers with an academic education). That permit only lasts as long as my employment contract, but the real appeal is hidden. Almost all employees of German companies pay into the public retirement system. After three years of paying into that system, I can apply for a permanent settlement permit. Forget all the names and conditions. That’s the golden ticket. If I get that document, I can travel into and out of the country without any questions. No expiry date. No renewal. That’s the last hurdle.
After spending September and October sending out seventy-something job applications, I got one call. It was from a photographic studio. I wasn’t thrilled with the opportunity at first, but after speaking with some loved ones, I began to see it through a new lens. Despite lacking creative fulfilment, this job would deliver on many fronts. It was full-time, in German, working as a photographer. Three big, fat checks as far as my CV is concerned. Plus, it would kick off the permit-dominoes. After employing a little bureaucratic patience, I’d be able to turn my Chancenkarte into a Residence permit for qualified skilled workers with an academic education. I’d make enough money to get my own apartment, and I’d figure out the rest along the way. Career direction. Hopes. Goals. Dreams.
I sent that studio an email on Monday to check in. It had been just shy of two weeks since my interview. It was a standard follow-up email, looking to spark conversation and expedite the employment process. Ten minutes later they called me. The man on the other end apologised profusely for taking so long to get back to me. He also apologised on behalf of the company. They got word last week that two branches in Berlin were being closed. They no longer had a job to offer me.
No new residence permit. No new apartment. No income at all. I have no back-up plan. Perhaps that’s redundant. It’s more accurate to say that I have no plan at all. I am not in despair. I’m elbow deep in shock though. Have been all week. Two words come to me when I go into the kitchen to make a cup of tea or when I stand on the platform waiting for my train:
This week I’m going away with my girlfriend and her family, and it’ll be my 25th birthday. If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll take the week to breathe, reflect and count grey hairs. Expect the next journal on the 7th of December.
If you’ve got space to spare in your thoughts and prayers, I would appreciate some. Subscribe, if you like.