It Shouldn’t Be This Hard to Die
I ran the Croatian adminstrative gauntlet recently. If it weren't so terrible, this would be fodder for a comedy act.
My father died on the 24th of July. I signed several documents in Zadar Hospital's ICU and was given stuff to take to the Admissions office. At Admissions, I signed more stuff and then was directed to Pathology. Pathology stamped some, but not all of, the documents.
My father's body would not be released until Admissions rendered another stamp – the same Admissions office from which I just came. When I pointed out the circularity, I was told that my ever growing stack of stuff now needed a different set of signatures from Admissions. Back at Admissions, again, the stuff was stamped and then I was sent back to .... Pathology. I bounced between Admissions and Pathology like a tennis ball at Wimbledon. But unlike Wimbledon, there was no winner.
After the hospital, we arrived at the County Registrar's office 5 minutes before noon. A security guard pointed at the sign: ?We work with clients from 8:00-12:00? ... and lunch is from 11:30-12:00. This meant that I needed to find an obliging Registrar to work with us outside of client working hours. I was lucky to find that man.
My father was also a citizen of Canada so I thought an international death certificate was a good idea. This obliging Registrar did not believe that Canada would accept an international death certificate. His advice was to take the Croatian death certificate to the Ministry of Justice in Zagreb, who would certify that the Registrar had authority to issue a death certificate. Then, I was to take the certification to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, who would perform some kind of ?legalization?, and then, only then, could I take it to the Canadian Embassy.
I needed an apostille – a cherry on the administrative cake. My guy at the Registrar phoned his friend at the County Court, who agreed to wait for us. We arrived at the courthouse only to be blocked by the guard. ?We have criminals in here and do not allow kids,? he said.
”Well, could you watch my son while I go upstairs to see your colleagues?”
”We are not a babysitting service,” he said.
In the end, the man took pity on me. I left my 6-year son with the police, so I could continue my quest. In the office, a charming, helpful servant of the court agreed that the Canadian embassy would not accept an international death certificate. I spoke to the Canadian Embassy, myself, and they told me that they would. She phoned the Ministry of Justice in Zagreb who confirmed that I (and presumably the Canadian Embassy) was wrong.
It took 7 hours of stamping to get a Death Certificate in Croatia. All of the individuals who served me that day were professional, courteous and helpful – but the system is crazy. 50% of the administrators had to go out of their way to serve us – mainly by working beyond published hours. I managed to ram this through in one day because I was persistent. How many of our citizens accept ”come back tomorrow” as if their time is worth nothing. A procedure that needs two hours is designed to last three days.
The kind and courteous civil servants I dealt with are victims of this system as much as we are. Digitizing this administrative mess is not the answer, totally redesigning it is.
Image Credit: St. Louis Cemetery, New Orleans
This is a translation of an original column that was published in Croatia's largest newspaper, Ve?ernji List, on August 6, 2018. See my pearl trees for a complete gallery of my articles for Ve?ernji List and other publications, including The Wall Street Journal.