Timbres, Tabac, et un Carte de Séjour

Today is the day my student visa expires, and also the day that I was told to return to the police station to pick up my carte de séjour - the resident card or visa which will show that I am here legally through the end of the year.  So this morning I dutifully hopped on the bus and headed to downtown Pessac (the suburb of Bordeaux where I live) to fetch it. 

I knew they had the card there in my file - I saw it last time, when I went to see if they had received it - so I allowed myself to be very optimistic and held out a hope that they would just check my passport and then hand me the card.  It was to be an unrealistic hope.  As a friend told me once, when doing business in France you will always be missing one required document and will have to make a return trip with said document.  So far that's been basically true!  So in spite of my hopes, I wasn't altogether surprised when I was told I needed one more thing before I could have my carte de séjour.

Still, when the receptionist at the desk told me what I needed, my first thought was that I must have misunderstood her - after all, my French is far from perfect, especially in a strange situation.  Did she just say what I thought she said?  But there was no mistake: that really was what was required before I could have the card. So I left the police station and made my way to the store across the street.

If I hadn't known the French word for the store that I walked into, I would have called it a convenience store (in American English), or maybe a milk bar (in Australian English) - quite a variety of things on the shelves: postcards, snacks, magazines ... and rows of cigarettes, which is why the French call the store a "tabac" (which is why I felt very awkward walking into it).  The first store I went to didn't have the required item, and sent me to another one about a kilometer down the street.  Thankfully, that one did have it, and I headed back to the police station for another attempt at picking up my carte de séjour.  And what was the needed item?  19 euros' worth of stamps. 

I haven't yet figured out exactly why I was required to go to a tabac to get stamps so the receptionist at the police station could pass my carte de séjour to me across the counter, or why I couldn't just give her 19 euros.  But at least she was satisfied, and I now have the important card in my possession.  I hope I'll learn a lot more French in the next few months, but I'm already counting the months and weeks until I leave for Chad.  Four and a half months to go......