Sir
 
Many have complained of the hassles surrounding the acquisition of lichna cards at 48 Maria Louisa. I write to share a story about how I had trouble giving my card back.

Expats are supposed to return their lichna cards to the authorities when the cards expire. So, as a law-abiding citizen - and because I expect to come back to Bulgaria soon on another visa - I headed to Maria Louisa a few days before my card was due to expire. My flight left for London the next day.

I approached the same group of clerks whom by now I and probably most other expats know very well. One is a middle-aged woman with curly reddish hair who seems always to be eating seeds. Another is a younger, tall woman with shoulder-length, jet-black hair.

In my faltering but comprehensible Bulgarian, I pronounced my intention to return my lichna card. Here, finally, I thought, was an opportunity to deal summarily with the bureaucrats who forced me to return seven, yes, seven times last year over the course of three weeks to obtain my lichna card even though the American University in Bulgaria had prepared my documents. I would give them the card, one task on a long list during a busy day, and move on to the next chore.

No such luck. The seed-eating clerk informed me that I needed to show her my passport in order for her to accept my lichna card. I made the usual huff and puff scene, which I'd say works 33 per cent of the time in such situations, but here it was to no avail. She said she couldn't do anything if I didn't have my passport.

I stormed off, cursing. But, imaging some bureaucratic hitch in London, where I hope to apply for another visa, I hailed a taxi, returned home and got my passport. What was supposed to be a half-hour diversion would take an hour and cost 10 leva in total.

Returning to Maria Louisa, I decided to approach the dark-haired clerk. I gave her my card and passport. She asked me what I had been doing in Bulgaria, and I told her I taught at AUBG. She said I'd need to provide the paperwork AUBG gave me last year.

Now I was furious. I didn't have the paper work, I told her. And I knew I didn't. Because I had just thrown away around three tons of documents from the apartment I was vacating. If she didn't want my card, I said, fine. But I was going to leave it on the counter in front of her anyway. There was no way I was going to be able to produce the AUBG documents and I didn't want a hassle when I applied for a new visa in London.

"London?" she asked (I'm paraphrasing). "You're not asking to renew your lichna card then? You'll be getting a new visa?"

"Yes," I said.

"Oh, in that case, we don't need your passport," she said. "Just give me your lichna card and everything is fine."

John Dyer