Just got my Australian permanent residency. When they first give you a spouse visa here, it's "provisional permanent" or something like that, and then you have to apply for the second, for-realsies stage. I guess they've had enough doe-eyed romantics arrive here and then turn tail after a few weeks when they realize how fucking awful the food and people and cost of living are. Good weather only gets Britain so far, especially when it's stuck in the 1950s and there aren't enough Asians in it.
It's taken longer than it might have because I'd forgotten to do it because, well, it made about zero difference to my life. I wouldn't have been eligible for welfare, which I haven't needed, but I was already eligible for mat leave payouts, which I'd already arranged, and I figured if I was fired and in a position where I'd potentially need welfare, I could just insist we fuck off, finally. As the t-shirt suggests.
But I did it nonetheless, for two reasons.
1. Another passport. You can get Australian citizenship after just four years residency*. One of those years has to be with the permanent visa I just got. I'm just coming up on two years in November, and even in my wildest dreams we'll be stuck here for another two years after that. The F-word wants some more schooling here, and I want more high wages and low taxes and for both of our planned children to be born somewhere I can speak to the medical staff in English, and while we're leaning toward having the next one sooner than we'd been thinking before (the F-word is feeling his oats, I suppose) I'm not pulling a oops-I'm-pregnant-at-the-six-week-checkup stunt.
Anyhoo, I've always been a firm believer in having the maximum number of passports possible. You just never know when you'll need them in this naughty world full of things being unexpected and violent. I'd like four, eventually. Four is my goal. It's surprisingly doable - fewer and fewer countries forbid multiple nationalities (although I understand that people generally ignore it in the ones that do).
And it means eventually you will be able to make fun of me for being an Australian, after I spend a few more years viciously mocking them. Lucky you.
2. Getting a cellphone contract. In Australia I'm eligible to get free health care, family assistance, buy a house, and any number of other useful things. However, I'm not eligible to get a cellphone contract. Sigh. Once you're dealing with a private institution instead of a government institution here, suddenly everything goes to shit.
Whatever. I'll do it after the mat leave.
*It's somewhat ironic, I think, that the country where I've heard the most jingoistic xenophobia I've witnessed anywhere except Italy is also THE country with the easiest and fastest routes to residency, either through family class visas or work visas, as well as to citizenship.
It's taken longer than it might have because I'd forgotten to do it because, well, it made about zero difference to my life. I wouldn't have been eligible for welfare, which I haven't needed, but I was already eligible for mat leave payouts, which I'd already arranged, and I figured if I was fired and in a position where I'd potentially need welfare, I could just insist we fuck off, finally. As the t-shirt suggests.
But I did it nonetheless, for two reasons.
1. Another passport. You can get Australian citizenship after just four years residency*. One of those years has to be with the permanent visa I just got. I'm just coming up on two years in November, and even in my wildest dreams we'll be stuck here for another two years after that. The F-word wants some more schooling here, and I want more high wages and low taxes and for both of our planned children to be born somewhere I can speak to the medical staff in English, and while we're leaning toward having the next one sooner than we'd been thinking before (the F-word is feeling his oats, I suppose) I'm not pulling a oops-I'm-pregnant-at-the-six-week-checkup stunt.
Anyhoo, I've always been a firm believer in having the maximum number of passports possible. You just never know when you'll need them in this naughty world full of things being unexpected and violent. I'd like four, eventually. Four is my goal. It's surprisingly doable - fewer and fewer countries forbid multiple nationalities (although I understand that people generally ignore it in the ones that do).
And it means eventually you will be able to make fun of me for being an Australian, after I spend a few more years viciously mocking them. Lucky you.
2. Getting a cellphone contract. In Australia I'm eligible to get free health care, family assistance, buy a house, and any number of other useful things. However, I'm not eligible to get a cellphone contract. Sigh. Once you're dealing with a private institution instead of a government institution here, suddenly everything goes to shit.
Whatever. I'll do it after the mat leave.
*It's somewhat ironic, I think, that the country where I've heard the most jingoistic xenophobia I've witnessed anywhere except Italy is also THE country with the easiest and fastest routes to residency, either through family class visas or work visas, as well as to citizenship.
2 commenti:
Are you an Australian yet?
I'm finding it very hard to wait for that moment.
:)
It's gonna be a long two years, one month and fourteen days for you, Bartlam. You can spend it collecting ammunition.
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