Wow.

Just.

Wow.

Today, I finally was able to go into town to begin transferring my driver’s license, and our van, to our new province.

I’ve done this before.  Several times.  I even went back to the same company I’d dealt with before, when we were last living in the area.

Thirteen + years, and the place looks exactly the same! :-D

The van will have to wait.  I was kinda expecting that, since one of the requirements to transfer the registration is a provincial license, so I have to do that, first.  I also confirmed that it is now required to have the vehicle safetied, first.  We’ve had a lot of work done on the van before coming out here, but I know there are still little things that would prevent it from passing safety, but I don’t know what this province requires anymore.  So I will have to talk nice to my cousin again. :-/

I needed several pieces of ID for the driver’s license.

Birth certificate?  Check.

Medical card? Not in yet.  So I would need mail, such as a bank statement or utility bill, with our new address on it.

Utility bill with our address on it.  Half check.  Our electric bill has our box number on it, but not our “street” number (the driveway marker number).  Our service address, which is basically the coordinates for the location of the main quarter section of the farm, was not enough.

Bank letter.  Just across the street is the bank I’ve had an account at for several decades.  After we moved, I didn’t bother closing the account, because they said it could only be done in person.  Kinda hard to do when living in another province, and when we did come to visit, it just wasn’t a priority.  However, as modern technology and online banking improved, it became irrelevant.  So I walked across the street and asked for something I could give the public insurance company to open an account for me.  It’s good I did, because changing my info online apparently didn’t take.  They still had our out of province address in there.  So that got updated (the electric bill came in handy again, confirming our postal address) and a letter was printed off, signed and stamped for me.

Back across the street I went, and we continued.

Bank letter identifying my physical address. Check.

Then a glitch happened.

By the time we were done, I had three people trying to help me out, giving me different options and providing me with a form I might need.

The problem?

My married name does not match the name on my birth certificate.

Seriously.

A birth certificate is supposed to have my BIRTH information on it.  That’s whole point of it.  It’s as if they now expect women who change their name after marriage to apply for a new birth certificate with the name change.  Which is ridiculous.

They agreed.

At one point, I turned to my younger daughter who had come with me and told her, “don’t change your name!”

To which one of the women helping enthusiastically concurred.

I didn’t even completely change my name.  I hyphenated (now people can spell my name wrong in TWO languages! :-D ).  So my birth name is still part of my married name.  But because the birth certificate doesn’t match the name I use everywhere else, they knew that if they proceeded with opening the account, they would get a letter back about it; and if it took too long to fix, the partially set up account would just get cancelled.

Now, if I also had my marriage certificate, they could have included that, but I don’t.  I mean, I have it.  I just haven’t seen it in 25 years.  It’s in one of those boxes that got dragged around, move after move.  After move.  After move.  For 14 of my 18 moves, to be exact.

So my choices are;

1. find my marriage certificate
2. contact vital statistics and have them send me a copy of my marriage certificate
3. get someone to fill out a form, vouching for my identity.  It has to be someone who’s known me for at least 2 yrs, and among a long list of acceptable persons, including MLAs, MPs, judges, police officers, Chiefs, a lawyer and…

… a postmaster.

Now, the postmaster would be an easy one.  This is the town I grew up in, after all, and while the original owner of the store that was also the postmaster died some years ago, it’s still in the family, and the person who runs it now has known me for decades.

Except.

She’s not the post master.  I believe it’s her daughter who is.

Now, her daughter also knew me, but considering she wouldn’t have seen me since probably 2004, she may be too young to actually remember me.

It doesn’t have to be someone in this province, but getting someone from another province to do it would take weeks.

Which means I can’t transfer my driver’s license until all this gets straightened out.

At least it will be better for my husband and daughters; especially once our medical cards come in.  My daughters will still need to get a letter from a bank.  One will only need to update her banking information, since she’s not bothering to close her own account to open a new one, locally.  My older daughter, however, had an account with a credit union, and they don’t have a branch out here.  So she’ll have to open a new account locally.

For which she will need some kind of ID with our current address on it.

Un. Be. Lievable.

The ladies at the company were very apologetic, even though they had no control over the situation.  They certainly understood what a problem it is.

At one point, I commented that I have NEVER had this problem before.  Ever.  When did this start? I asked.  Basically since 9/11, I was told.

*sigh*

We were living in this province when 9/11 happened.  We’ve moved 3 times in between then and our current move, including our initial move out of this province.   It still has never been an issue until now.

Meanwhile, we’re supposed to have all this done within 3 months of moving.

That’s not going to happen.

The Re-Farmer