A Trip to the Finnish Version of USCIS (so. much. nicer.)

Welcome to Part 2 of your journey through Finnish immigration. If you read the story yesterday, you know that Louisville law prof JoAnne Sweeny is in Finland on a Fulbright. Her experiences with the Finnish immigration system pose a fascinating contrast to the typical U.S. procedures. Today we’ll hear about her trip to the Finnish version of USCIS.

Ok, part 2 of Finnish Immigration – a story of intense cordiality.

Let’s back it up to earlier this week. We landed in Helsinki, were allowed into the country by a badass viking goddess with a mere verbal promise to obtain a residence permit or GTFO within 90 days.

My husband had booked an appointment with the Immigration Center in Helsinki for 1pm the next day – not 10am, I still feel bad about lying to Emma. So, we got all our bags (SO MANY BAGS) to our airbnb, which I booked specifically for its proximity to the Immigration Center (yay me).

Lazy morning for me, still fighting a cold. My husband and son played in the snow for a bit and then we all suited up and went to the Immigration Center.

The Immigration Center is a set of offices in an office building that also housed some small media companies and other random businesses (from what I could tell by reading their mailboxes).

We entered to find a brightly-lit lobby with a series of small offices with numbers on their doors. Water was provided. There were quite a few people there waiting, some with small children. I feel I should note that there were some families of color there, which i thought was cool.

We were about 10 minutes early so we gave our son my husband’s old phone and let him play on a coloring app (shout-out to my sister for showing me that) while we waited.

The atmosphere in the lobby was pretty calm. It felt kinda like waiting at the DMV but less aggro. Just a place to do your paperwork with someone official. There was a small information booth where you could presumably ask questions or get a number for a walk-in appointment.

And then, you wait for someone over the intercom to call your name (or number) and tell you which office to go into.

At about five minutes before 1pm, the intercom started rattling off names and office numbers. We figured the 1pm appointments were beginning. However, our name was not called. But, it was still early, so we weren’t concerned.

Five or so minutes later, more names are called. Not us. My husband and I look at each other, a little more worried this time. But, there’s nothing we can do but wait.

More names, not ours. It’s only 1:10 but, considering the efficiency of the appointment process so far, I’m starting to get concerned. We start talking about whether we should go to the information desk and check on things. We get more water instead.

1:15, our name is called and we grab our stuff and head into an office. Our son rushes in first, which was probably weird for the official inside. But, maybe not. Maybe that happens all the time.

You wouldn’t know from his expression. This man has mastered Finnish pokerface. Again, I suck at getting names so let’s just name this guy Jan.

Jan’s office (probably like all the others) consists of him sitting behind a desk with two chairs on the other side. The desk goes from wall to wall like a small barrier. The room is again brightly lit – Finns love their white walls and light wood tones, it seems.

Only two chairs so I take one and so does my son.

Let me describe Jan. He is a white (no surprise) middle-aged man with a short beard, glasses, and short, thinning hair. He looks like what you would get if you used a 3-D printer to print “civil servant – male, Finnish.” I like him immediately.

As soon as we enter, Jan apologizes for the delay. It’s 1:15. We laugh and tell him it’s no problem. Jan then suggests that my husband get another chair from the lobby so he can sit, too. Jan’s voice is very soft and you have to really focus on him to hear what he’s saying, though his English is excellent. My husband elects to stand, probably just to throw Jan off his hospitality game. Jan appears unperturbed.

Unperturbed is Jan’s default expression. I imagine it has served him well working for the Finnish government.

Jan first asks for my passport and I produce it. My husband then starts offering Jan my son’s passport and my husband’s passport. Jan is not ready and I admonish my husband to stop giving Jan things when Jan hasn’t asked for them. Jan is doing Jan’s thing. He’s got this.

The paperwork transfer is remarkably calm and easy. Jan does his thing, we provide documents when he asks. We’ve already uploaded pdfs into the system weeks ago so there aren’t any surprises. Jan wants to see our passports, our marriage certificate and our son’s birth certificate.

Now, because Fulbright Finland has its shit together, we knew to get apostilles for the marriage and birth certificate. What is an apostille, you say? It sounds like a hard candy enjoyed by saints, you muse?

Here’s the official definition: An “apostille” is a form of authentication issued to documents for use in countries that participate in the Hague Convention of 1961.

When I read that, I thought, “holy shit, the Hague Convention?? Hells yes, I am now a small part of the Hague Convention!”

That euphoric feeling died pretty quick once I realized the process for obtaining an apostille. Basically, an apostille is a certificate issued by the secretary of state for whichever state the original certificate was issued in basically confirming that the certificate is real. Because countries have their own ways of issuing common certificates (like marriage and birth), the Hague convention decrees that, as long as you get an apostille, other signatory countries have to accept that the certificate is valid.

So, pretty convenient, really. Nice and streamlined process.

But not in the US because each state has a different process. So, we had to send our marriage certificate to California with a $25 check and a form filled out, and our son’s birth certificate to Kentucky with a $5 check (YOU SEE THE COASTAL INFLATION???) and a SASE and a form filled out. California did not request a SASE but I did it anyway.

It was nerve-wracking waiting for them to come back. Thing is, we were smart and got a couple of birth certificate copies for our son but we only have one marriage certificate and I had to put it in the mail and hope it came back to me. Spoiler alert: It did, all was good.

Back to Jan! Jan is typing away and the room is quiet except when Jan asks us a question or for another document, during which time my son invariably feels the need to interject something about the coloring app he’s using. My son = loud. Jan = quiet. Jan had to repeat himself a lot.

But Jan remained unperturbed.

Except, at one point, he sighed heavily.

To us, that sigh felt like the equivalent of someone else taking their keyboard and throwing it across the room. What was wrong???? What has we done??? Redmond, I don’t care that you’re on color 18!!!!

My husband, more calmly than I could have managed, asked if everything was ok. Jan looked up briefly and said “yes, it’s just that the computer is slow.” So. Much. Relief. We hadn’t upset Jan.

After a few more minutes, Jan let us know that he had put everything in the system. There had been a potential issue of providing proof of my Fulbright income but that was quickly settled – we had uploaded the form but it had taken a while for Jan to be able to see it on his computer. He also had to change my name on my form because I had omitted my middle name (Sorry, Grandma Mae!) but my middle name was on my passport.

When he was finished, Jan let us know that we would receive email confirmations within a week that we got the permits and we would receive permit cards in the mail within a couple of weeks.

Spoiler alert: the emails came within 48 hours. Dang, Finland.

I asked if we would be ok to travel and come back into the country without the permit cards if the arrived after we took a planned trip out of the country. Jan said “oh, yes, you have your permits now.”

The whole thing took less than an hour.

As we left, I was struck again by how simple the whole thing seemed to him and to Emma. This was just routine paperwork, nothing to stress about. Not fraught, not contentious. Not us as immigrants trying to get in vs. him trying to make sure we deserved to. Just paperwork.

We went back to our airbnb and relaxed for the rest of the afternoon. For the curious – our airbnb was very nice and our host, Sonja, was extremely helpful. She also had a very cute, chubby baby and a very cool carrier that had attachments to protect the cute, chubby baby from the elements.

Anyway, that’s it. We are official residents in Finland. The only remaining step is to register with our local office in Turku (the city we’re living in). It’s not required but it helps to get phone contracts and cheaper bus fare so we’re doing it. Part 3 of the immigration story will be up next!

Final aside: while we were waiting in Jan’s office for him to finish going through our paperwork, I noticed a sign taped up to the glass, facing out into the seating area. Jan said I could take a picture of it and I’ve attached it below.

It’s a sign telling women applicants that they should speak for themselves and not have the man they are with talk for them. I thought it was pretty cool.

-posted on behalf of Joanne Sweeny by KitJ