Legalization. Naturalization. Immigration. Deportation. Frustration.

Come on now, did you really think that I had forgotten to update you all on the visa extension debacle?  True, I've not said much about it but that has been due to there not being much to say due to lack of progress and also due to there being so many more pleasant things about which to write.
When I say there hasn't been much progress I don't mean that hour upon hour upon hour have not been spent walking the streets of Craiova visiting government office after government office.  Don't kid yourself.  But does that mean anything has really been accomplished?  Ah, your optimism makes me laugh.
However, not all is at a complete stand-still.  We have achieved some successes and as of May 20 at 14:20 we can report the following:  Mihai has an ID and is once again legal in his country of birth.  The boys, due to having a now-legal father and the fact that their birth certificates were translated into Romanian, are now citizens.  These three members of the Ionescu Traveling Clan can stay in Romania as long as they would like.
Then there's Leigha.
Let me summarize the situation with a nice visual:

citizen

citizen

citizen

 persona non grata

Its possible that the biggest roadblock (the translating of the U.S. marriage certificate) might well be resolved by the end of this week.  Its also possible that astronomers will detect a planet-destroying meteor hurling its way to the earth and the President of the United States will hire Bruce Willis and his team of handsome, quirky renegades to neutralize it before it kills us all.
Yeah.
So if and when the translation is complete, Mihai and I will no longer be living in sin and then I will have a mere 200 or so pieces of documentation that I will need in order to submit a request to remain legally in this country. All of these documents will have to be notarized and photocopied and I will have to attach declarations* to each.  None of these things (the photocopying or the notarizing or the declaring) can be done in the same building.  That would be too convenient.  However, if all of this can be accomplished before June 15, we are in business.  If not, we will be posting photos from many, many other countries in Europe.
In a nutshell: if we get the temporary resident card in time, we will stay here and if not, we will spend six months living around Europe until I am allowed back into Romania.
I will spare you the whining about having to travel because I am fully aware of how pathetic it sounds.  All I can say is that I really like living here and I would prefer to be able to stay but I'm sure a month in Barcelona will make up for it.   
Is that really all there is to the story?  Oh surely you know there is at least one tale of absurdity but if I am going to get those papers then let me have them in my hands before I do a tell-all.  If I don't get them, then let me spend a few days lying on a beach in Greece and throw back a few glasses of Ouzo so that all of this seems a humorous memory...
So, a little more patience, please, and all will be revealed.
*declarations are legal documents for which you must hire a lawyer to write down stuff that we normally all take for granted such as:
Along with my marriage licence I had to submit a "declaration" in which I declared that I was married on the date stated in the marriage licence and that I was, in fact, married to the man whose name appears in the marriage licence and that I was thereafter willing to be called by the name stated in the marriage licence as well as the name I chose to put on my passport.  Once the marriage licence is translated (in effect, reproducing all of the information I have just declared-which was of course already declared on the original marriage licence) I will then have to produce another declaration at the office of immigration that I (some of you have guessed it and some of you now think I'm just making this up as I go along) was married on the day stated in the declaration and the licence, that I was married to the name whose name appears....

How To Obtain an Extension On Your 90-Day Visa: a comedy-thriller coming to a blog near you

Since our plans do not include any travel for the next several weeks and since the southwestern Romanian countryside is not at its most attractive during this time of the year, there will be a limited number of photographs to post and, in truth, a limited number of experiences to relate....or maybe not.

After all, this is Romania.

In Romania, (and I'm certain this is true of many Eastern European countries) every time you venture out of your house, something absurd generally occurs.  You don't have to go looking for it; you will often experience the absurd while engaged in mundane, innocent tasks such as going to the market to buy cheese where you may scandalize the entire store by drinking "auto water" straight from the bottle.  For all of you non-Romanian readers: auto water is the same thing as ordinary, distilled drinking water except that in this case there is a drawing of a car on the bottle.  It is this drawing alone which appears to have the ability to render the fluid inside "not for consumption by the humans, madam".

You might decide to visit the local department store.  In Romania this is a multi-storied, concrete building which contains goods and wares arranged and presented in a fashion similar to the Soquel Drive-In flea market.  You will be hoping to purchase a vacuum cleaner filter and in the process you will be kicked out of the elevator between floors.  (Yes, I will provide the full detail of this story in a future posting which will be entitled: The Real Story Behind Those Low Unemployment Numbers.)

You could even be inside your own home and simply glance out the window in time to see a delivery truck run off the road, demolish the neighbor's fence, get stuck in the mud in their front yard and kill a wild turkey all in one go.  You will watch the village gather round and debate the best way to solve the issue of the truck extraction for what remains of the afternoon and beyond.

                                    

Water cooler in government building.

The note says: 

"Warning, do not let the water drip into the tray, danger of electric shock."

Yes, it is plugged in and yes, there were folks using it.

But perhaps one day you will want to venture from the "mundane and innocent" column of activities and foray over to both the "looking for trouble"  and the "nothing good can come from this" column. In this case you will want to attempt to apply for an extension on your 90-day visa.
You, faithful readers, have followed us across the United States, across the Atlantic and into Eastern Europe.  Since we are planted here for a bit of a pause, we invite you on another journey: come with us as we try to get Leigha's visa extended.
Day 1: the police station.
No photos allowed.  Sorry.
This is the same building where the Securitatea used to do their nefarious and dirty business terrorizing the country, accusing innocent civilians, bullying worshipers of various faiths.  Great place to start.
We arrive.
40 minutes later and the guard has told us both that the official we need to see is coming in 3 minutes and that he is going to be in a meeting for the rest of the day.  Just as we are ready to depart, the official suddenly appears, shakes our hands and states that he was sorry we waited, what do we need to see him for?
The reaction is one we must get used to for we will see it often: you want to do what?  Laughter. Disbelieving shake of head.  An American wanting to stay in Romania for a year.
After much circular conversation, we have to fill out a form, everyone must sign it, it must be photocopied, along with my passport, in a room for which only certain special officials hold the key.  It must be stamped by two different officials.
This form means nothing.  The filling out, signing and stamping of this form does not begin the process of the 90 day extension.  It is simply a form saying that I have met with this official and that we discussed something.
"I can do nothing for you," he tells us, "You have to go to Evidenta Populatiei and speak to the clerk and she will be able to do everything for you."
We arrive at Evidenta Populatiei and que up.

A police officer approaches and asks us why we are in line (the lines apparently can be screened).  We tell her.  Laughter.  Head shaking.  She hovers beside us in the line, just to see the look on the clerk's face.  Laughter all round.  Head shaking.
"Ok", we are told, "this is not going to be a problem.  You just get your U.S marriage certificate translated into Romanian which will take about 90 days and then you come back and start the process."
"But," we  point out,  "the visa is only for 90 days."
"Yes."
"So...what do I do when the visa runs out and the translation isn't finished yet?"
"Its not going to be a problem, the translation will be done in plenty of time."
"But you just said it will take 90 days."
"Sure, 90 days, or 10 days.  It depends.  But I can do nothing for you here.  You need to go to Room 5 and speak with the secretary there and she will do everything for you."
To room 5 we go.

The door is locked and we are alternately told that the secretary is gone for the day or that she is in a meeting which will take 10 minutes or 3 hours, they are not sure which.  However, if we come back first thing on Monday morning, she will see us and take care of everything.
I am not certain, faithful readers, if I have just related the first stage of getting my visa extended or the first stage of eventually getting deported.  But I trust that you will follow us along, as you have thus far, wherever this adventure (debacle) takes us.