There are so many things that are not in one’s sight when younger and even less when one is running on the survival treadmill. Retirement is one of them. At the time this was written I had been out of Bulgaria for about 25 years. Things were different then. And no one was thinking that receiving a pension from my motherland would be even a remote possibility. Retirement wasn’t on the books.
June 2016
“Kafka is laughing in his grave”, Alex types on his phone so no one can overhear, although they probably don’t understand English. The last few days I’ve been trying to find out how to apply for my Bulgarian pension. There is a bilateral agreement between Canada and Bulgaria and if I had all the required employment records, I could apply from Canada together with my CPP (Canada Pension Plan) or OAS (Old Age Security) application. But I have no such records. None. And I have no idea where to start.
There is a central institute named NSSI (National Social Security Institute) in English or NOI in Bulgarian, which supposedly takes care of it all. My friend Milan meets me there. When we arrived, he had already checked: the information desk has disappeared and thus there is no one to ask where to start from. But Milan has a fall-back option – some kind of a legal consultant, just outside NOI, who may have some idea for the staring point.
In my time, there was a little book named “work-log book”, tracking one’s employment journey: work places, positions, promotions, salary, all dated. It was held in the HR department, and if the workplace changed, was handed over directly to the new HR department. This is the document that would help me prove my employment. The problem is that when I left for Belgium, the mentality and bureaucracy in Bulgaria were still totalitarian. HR at my last employer did not release my book. So now, I have no records at all. Theoretically, if I go to the places I used to work, I’d obtain some kind of a copy of the records. Practically, these places do not exist any more. Not only that, but neither do some of the streets they had been on!
After we wait in line for some time, the consultant sends me to check the archives at NOI. Room 126, she says. I line up and when my time comes, I try to tell them my story. The clerk says that there is nothing she can do. “Find your book at the last place you used to work”, she says…. Easier said than done. I line up at another room where they deal with bi-lateral agreements with other countries – after all this is where they should know something about the process. I only want to know if it makes sense at all to try. What kind of money are we talking about? Is it worth the effort? The lady in room 105 tells me that she deals only with people whose residency is the city of Sofia (yes, here residency is managed at your local address, and national services are provided only from the local office related to that address). “Well, I used to work in Sofia”, I say… “I only need to know where to start from”. What would my first step be? She can’t tell me anything until I show her the documentation. My employment records. If she sees them, she then can tell me. Well, the problem is that I don’t have my employment records. I was told they should be in the central archive, which is this institute. “Can’t help you” is the answer, after which I had to listen her bitching about the fact that her colleagues are sending her the wrong people, etc. That’s that. Let’s get out of here, Alex. (Gladly! – Alex)
I remember that I saw the Ministry of the Environment somewhere near our hotel. Maybe I can start there…maybe they can tell me what happened to the Institute where I worked last, as it was related to the predecessor Ministry. They change names with every government. So did the name of my Institute. How am I supposed to know the current name? The guard at the Ministry is very polite. He sends me to some information place, and from there they send me to the cashier’s office, from there to something resembling HR.
The girl is very polite but she does not remember my times. Why did they not give you your book? “I have no idea” is the answer that I have given a dozen times by now. “Hmmm, let me check our files”. She does go and checks the files although her older colleague tells her that they keep only the last 10 years. The rest goes in the archives. “Archives”, exclaims the young girl. “What’s that – is it a real place or…how can we help this woman?” “Well”, I say, “can you at least give me the current name of the institute I used to work in?” I tell her the address. She looks through different files and writes down a name, address and a phone number. Phew! Finally, I have a lead! I have something usable in my hands! Back at the hotel, I call the number she gave me. They transfer me to HR. “How come you don’t have your book? You should.”, the voice says. “Well, it wasn’t given to me. I have no idea why.” “Hmmm, I don’t know your case, but you should have it!” After going in circles for a while, me asking what can be done, since no matter what, I don’t have it, she tells me that I have to apply for my records. Have to write some request to their executive director. The institute is far away and my time will not allow me to visit them this time. At least she did not say that they don’t have my records. Later on, I’d understand that applying for them is actually a standard procedure and they are not doing me any favours, but trying to exert some semblance of power and control.
Next day, I decide to go back to the archives. At least they should be able to tell me who are the successors of the places I’d worked. I go to the same room 126 and the same lady tells me again they don’t have anything about me. She hasn’t even checked. She hasn’t asked me for my ID or anything. “Can you at least tell me what is the ministry which used to be the Ministry of Civil Engineering and Architecture”, I ask. “Which institute are you looking for?” Finally! I tell her the name and the location. She checks her computer and tells me – “Ministry of Regional Development is the one that took over this institute”, she says. “But I don’t have the records. They only go back to 1997”. “Where is it located?”, I ask. She asks someone and tells me to go by the Assembly of Ministers. Another lead. Alex and I head for the city centre where all the official buildings are congregated.
We go exactly where we were told, but there is no such ministry. Walked around all of them. Then I ask the policemen who guard one of them. “Hmmm, ah sega de!” (Hmmm, now, now!) he exclaims, and his colleagues send me under the arch. There are a dozen ministries under the arch, but not mine. I ask from ministry to ministry. Some send me to ask another policeman, most tell me that it is not their business to know. More than a little discouraged, we walk down the street and I see and Institute of Architecture and Planning. I ask the guard there. The guy is very polite, gives me an address and instructions. Luckily it wasn’t that far. I find the place. Tell my story to the guard there, he gives me a phone and a number to call.
The person at the other end transfers me to someone who is probably HR. “Ah, the institute of…what’s your name? I used to work there”. I tell her my name. We don’t remember each other. “How come you don’t have your book?” I go over the same book explanation and why and how come I did not take my book when I left, etc. Then she gives me a long list of names and archives that the documentation of this institute has gone through… She only knows them because she is now retired and had to go through the same process. But they are now at the…on Ulitsa (street)… She gives me the address and where to find it. Eh, not directly and not without giving me her opinion that I’ll get nothing for these years. To walk to this address takes about an hour from the Ministry. It is late and we leave this for the next and our last day in Sofia. Should I bother at all? How much I will get for my working years in Bulgaria? I’ve almost given up. (I’m very happy that I have my library books on my iPad. Getting through a lot of reading – Alex)
In the evening my friend Krasi tells me that I should not give up – NOI should have it all he says…. Well, the question is how to get through the NOI bureaucracy. Next morning, we take a deep breath (I’ve borrowed some more e-books – A) and head up for the archives of the Ministry of Industry, where my records are supposed to be. I find the archive clerk there and after she hears me, she is flabbergasted. “We sent all the records to NOI”, she says. “Why do they keep sending people back here?” “What can be done?”, I ask. After bitching for a while about how stupid the NOI people are, she turns around, grabs a binder, opens it and in less than a minute finds the Exit number of the files sent to the archives. She writes it down on a tiny piece of paper and I head back to NOI, holding tight this precious hand-written lead.
I go back to room 126, ready to fight with them. I have the date when the archive was transferred and the Exit #. There is a different lady at the desk there. She immediately tells me that the Institute’s files are with them. They have all the archives, she says. She doesn’t know why her colleague has not told me so in the first place. I pause and take another deep breath. “So what do I have to do?” She gives me the form I have to complete. But you have to have someone in Bulgaria to receive them. In person. They can’t be mailed. Well, this means I have to have a notarized authorization, and I have no time left on this visit, so it will have to wait until the next time.
So far 2 of the 4 places I used to work are traced down, after walking all the streets of Sofia, talking to dozens of people and visiting the same room 126 at NOI a dozen times, until the clerk changed and the replacement actually bothered to look on the computer. Maybe next year I can apply for my documents to be issued. I hope Alex is still with me by then! (As long as I can get my library ebooks and can enjoy the excellent Bulgarian food, I’ll…probably…be around – Alex)
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