Fax Machines in Germany: Why Bureaucracy Still Loves Paper

I open the envelope. It is thick. The office writes: "We need your birth certificate. Please send by fax." Fax? I laugh. It is the year 2024. *I am modern. I do not need a fax*, I think. I take a photo with my phone. I send an email. Two minutes later, my phone rings. Mr. Miller from the office is on the line. "Email is not safe. We need a fax." I take a deep breath. *Where do I find a fax?* I walk into the street. I go to the kiosk on the corner. The man behind the counter has an old machine. "Can you fax this?" I ask. "Sure," he says. He takes the paper. He puts the paper into the machine. The machine makes a terrible noise. *Krrrk. Krrrk.* The paper gets stuck. The machine is broken. "Oh no! My certificate!" I shout. The man pulls on the paper. It tears. A piece of paper is now in his hand. *This is a catastrophe*, I think. "I am sorry," says the man. I take the broken copy. I run to the internet café in the next street. There is a big machine there. I put the paper inside. I type the number. The machine dials. *Beep. Beep. Beep.* Then it prints a note: "Line busy." I sit on the chair. I look at the machine. I wait.