Good question
An Apostille (pronounced “ah-po-steel”) is a French word meaning certification.
An Apostille is simply the name for a specialized certificate, issued by the Secretary of State. The Apostille is attached to your original document to verify it is legitimate and authentic so it will be accepted in one of the other countries who are members of the Hague Apostille Convention.
In the United States, all 50 states and the Federal Government (US Department of State – Office of Authentication) can issue an Apostille.
History and Etymology for apostille:
Middle French, from apostiller to add notes, ultimately from Medieval Latin postilla note, probably from post illa (verba textus) after those (words of the text)
It’s always fun and interesting to learn something new. Right?
My sister needed to get apostilles for my niece’s birth certificate and college diploma. She’ll be teaching this year in Nicaragua. (I was thinking that we had to get documents apostilled. But, no, it’s not a verb.) From the information above, you can see that those things are issued by the Secretary of State, and that all 50 states can issue an apostille. The Secretary of State in Texas is, of course, in the state capital, Austin.
We went to Austin, which is only 100 miles away, and not a difficult trip. Interstate all the way.
First, we needed to get a copy of the the birth certificate, which was not exactly hard to get. Just time consuming. Some of the time consumed was trying to follow Siri’s instructions, and she was reasonably patient as I maneuvered around construction, many official buildings, and several parking lots, which did not have entrances and exits that meshed with Siri’s plan. She did keep saying, “There are construction areas, but you are going the fastest way.”
We eventually got to the building where the birth certificates are, went in, and took a number. Number 42. We looked at the illuminated number on the wall.
Two. Yes, number 2. Two. II. Forty numbers away from our number. Frankly, it went better than it might have. Nobody complained (at least not out loud). Folks waited their turns. Kids didn’t act up. Babies weren’t too fussy. But it did take two whole hours. At last, they called number 42, and JoAnne took her papers to a clerk.
When JoAnne was done, I got up and walked the few steps to the end of row where we’d been sitting. The man on the end of the row turned his whole body sideways so I could easily get past.
“Thank you,” I said. “The man who was sitting here when we arrived had his computer in his lap, and he stretched his legs all the way out, under the chair in front of him. No one could get by. We had to walk around him from the back, and scoot chairs out of the way. Thank you for being kind.” He grinned when I wished him a short stay.
Then we had to make our way to downtown Austin to the Secretary of State’s office. We drove around for a few minutes, trying to find a place to park. The parking garages were for tenants and employees of the buildings. There was on-the-street parking, but we drove around a few blocks without success. JoAnne said to let her out and try to find a place. As we pulled up to the door, TA-DAH, there was an empty spot.
We parked and got out and I put three quarters into the meter. Who knew how long it might take to get the apostilles for the documents.
Twelve minutes.
I hope someone, or a couple of someones, enjoyed having a pre-paid parking meter.
We got back in the car, and, before we pulled away, JoAnne put a request for the nearest In-And-Out Burger. Great trip.