Archive | Life RSS feed for this section

A walk in the park

19 Jan
Sometimes a park is just a park. Sometimes it is Italian. Sunday we took a long walk in Villa Ada, Rome’s second-largest park (Villa Doria Pamphilj is the largest) and happened upon some photo-worthy sites.
To look at a map, Villa Ada is close to our home, but it’s a bit of a PITA to get into on foot. We’ve walked along the periphery many times and waded into the shallows, but finally, we had time and good weather on our side so we ventured a bit farther.
One of the busier paths, Villa Ada. We stuck to the woodsy ones, while most of the Italians embraced the sun.

One of the busier paths, Villa Ada. We stuck to the woodsy ones while most of the Italians embraced the sun.

The grounds and house were once owned by the House of Savoy, Italian royalty. From this family sprang four kings of Italy and also beloved Queen Margherita. Eventually, the estate was purchased by a Swiss gentleman, Count Tellfner, who named it for his wife, Ada. The Savoys bought it back again in the early 20th century turning it into the royal residence until they were ousted in 1946. In the 1950s, it became a public park.
Today Villa Ada is a sprawling landscape of paths, frequented by dog walkers and runners, but it also contains some surprises.
Egyptian Embassy, Villa Ada.

Egyptian Embassy, Villa Ada.

The Egyptian Embassy occupies the old royal residence. It was given to Egypt by the Savoys as a token of their gratitude for the assistance provided during their exile in 1946. Imagine walking through Forest Park in Portland and coming across armed soldiers guarding a foreign embassy. Yeah, it’s that weird.
Rounding a corner in a distant end of the park, we came across an equestrian center, 3C – Country Club Cascianese. There were riding lessons in session in the lovely January sun, and it has an air of exclusivity about it, although I always think that when horses are involved. Quite a contrast to the Egyptian Embassy.
Equestrian center, Villa Ada.

Equestrian center, Villa Ada.

We’ll have to go back to explore a few more paths, and there’s an entire quarter of the park we didn’t get to. Much like our beloved Hoyt Arboretum in Portland, after a few visits we should know our way around. 
In the category of NOT a walk in the park, we had an interesting visit to our bank this week. In fact, we had three visits in two days. Ric’s debit card was cracked and required replacement, so we ventured into the main branch of BNL on Via Bissolati. We had to wait about 25 minutes to be served (there’s a take-a-number machine), but the teller was able to give him a new card and PIN on the spot. We were impressed! No waiting for the mail to deliver it to our flat! Who says Italian systems are inefficient?
All’s well until we stopped at the market on the way home. With a huge line at the cashier, my BNL card wouldn’t work.  We trotted down the street to the Parioli BNL and tried my card in the ATM. The ATM took my card! Said it was deactivated! A very nice teller in this branch retrieved it only to tell me my card was no good, that I had to go back to the branch in the center to get a new one and that she needed to destroy my card. She cut it up. 
So off we went the next day to BNL on Via Bissolati. Here the teller told me that my card was perfectly good, according to the system. “It didn’t work yesterday,” I said. He asked to see it. “No, I told you, the woman on Viale Parioli took it and cut it up.” He told me she was wrong, and since I did not bring the card to him, we should file a denuncia (a formal complaint about the “lost” property) with the Carabinieri!
I was doing this in Italian, and I hate it when they tell me “no” because then I have to enter into the realm of the Italian argument, and my skills really suffer. I am just not that eloquent and my pre-rehearsed sentences collapse in a useless heap around me. But one has to push back. If you take the first no and walk away, you absolutely will make things harder for yourself. So I pushed back. “Just because his colleague at the other branch made an error, it should not be my problem,” I told him in grammatically incorrect Italian. Much to my surprise, he agreed and said “Well next time, bring the card here if it doesn’t work,” and he went on to issue me my new card and PIN. Thank God he backed down because I am no match for an Italian who is up for an extended negotiating session!
I am pleased to report that both of us now have access to our funds, but it certainly was not a walk in the park.
Click on the photos below for a better view.

Out and about

5 Dec
So what do we do every day here in Roma? Surely every day cannot be like a vacation. We have to run errands, do laundry, go to the doctor, clean the cat box, drink wine and exercise, just like people everywhere.  But one of the things we do is intersperse the mundane with field trips. We might go to a museum with a special exhibit, to a movie (in English with reserved seats), or revisit a site we saw a few years ago. Such was the case yesterday.
San Giovanni in Laterano's magnificent facade only dates to the 18th century.

San Giovanni in Laterano’s magnificent facade only dates to the 18th century.

We headed out into weak December sun to return to San Giovanni in Laterano, one of the four Papal Basilicas. We last visited in October 2010, so it was about time. 
San Giovanni was the first Christian church established in Roma, by Emperor Constantine in 318 A.D., and it is the home church of the Bishop of Rome, Papa Francesco. In fact, it was the home of all popes until the renovation of St. Peter’s and the expansion of the Vatican during the Renaissance. It is not Italy, it is part of the Vatican State.
Internal view with the Naval service in progress.

Internal view with the Naval service in progress.

On arrival at this magnificent basilica, we found it thronged with military personnel, primarily from the Italian Navy. They were commemorating their patron saint, Santa Barbara. In the U.S., if this were a military event at say the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C., it is unlikely we would have been allowed to wander in and play tourist. But this is Italy, with no separation of church and state by the way, and the only price to entry was having a Carabinieri officer look in my purse to ensure I was not carrying anything explosive.
Renaissance ceiling of the basilica. Stunning!

Renaissance ceiling of the basilica. Stunning!

Instead of an empty church with tourists wandering through, we were fortunate to observe the basilica being used for its intended purpose, a service. Here is a link in Italian about the observance. On land and sea, the Italian Navy celebrated Santa Barbara yesterday, inviting their colleagues from the army, Carabinieri, Vigili del Fuoco (firefighters), and others who share the patron saint. There was an orchestra and chorus that opened the service with a captivating rendition of Handel’s “Thine is the Glory,” sung in Italian. I can only assume that is a piece with some tradition and meaning for the Italian Navy.
Close up of the doors, originally from the Curia. The acorn "studs" date to the 3rd century.

Close up of the doors, originally from the Curia. The acorn “studs” date to the 3rd century.

Though little remains of Constantine’s original church (mostly rebuilt after 1600), the art and architecture are definitely worth a visit. There are massive bronze doors from the ancient Roman Curia (Senate House), moved here in the 17th century, and the golden columns from the Temple of Jupiter which used to stand on the Capitoline Hill. The enormous statues of the 12 apostles stand guard over the nave with a fabulous Renaissance ceiling overhead.
Columns from the Temple of Jupiter.

Columns from the Temple of Jupiter.

The baldacchino over the alter. See the little statues in the upper cage? Those are silver, and are of St. Peter and St. Paul, which contain pieces of their heads.

The Baldacchino over the altar. See the little statues in the upper cage? Those are silver reliquaries of St. Peter and St. Paul which contain pieces of their heads.

Bigger than life St.Matthew.

Bigger than life St.Matthew.

Big big doors, appropriated from the Senate House. The purple smudge is me.

Big big doors, appropriated from the Senate House. The purple smudge is me.

We took our leave as the solemn Mass began. There was another church on our itinerary: Santo Stefano Rotondo.
The sanctuary at Santo Stefano Rotondo. The ancient walls wtih frescoes surround the sanctuary.

The sanctuary at Santo Stefano Rotondo. The ancient walls with frescoes surround the sanctuary.

Santo Stefano is an eerie little church built, as the name implies, in the round. Why eerie? This 5th-century church built on top of a Roman Mithraeum and named for the first Christian martyr, Santo Stephano is decorated with frescoes depicting the martyrdom of some 34 saints. No one could describe this scene better than Charles Dickens did:
“To single out details from the great dream of Roman Churches, would be the wildest occupation in the world. But St. Stefano Rotondo, a damp, mildewed vault of an old church in the outskirts of Rome, will always struggle uppermost in my mind, by reason of the hideous paintings with which its walls are covered. These represent the martyrdoms of saints and early Christians; and such a panorama of horror and butchery no man could imagine in his sleep, though he were to eat a whole pig raw, for supper. Grey-bearded men being boiled, fried, grilled, crimped, singed, eaten by wild beasts, worried by dogs, buried alive, torn asunder by horses, chopped up small with hatchets: women having their breasts torn with iron pinchers, their tongues cut out, their ears screwed off, their jaws broken…. So insisted on, and laboured at, besides, that every sufferer gives you the same occasion for wonder as poor old Duncan awoke, in Lady Macbeth, when she marvelled at his having so much blood in him.” Pictures from Italy (1846)
Please click on any photo for a larger view and caption. Warning: some rather gruesome images!
Still Santo Stefano Rotondo is a peaceful site and from what we saw this day visited by few. Off the beaten path? You won’t find many people wandering here, but it is not all that far from the Colosseo, and perhaps a 15-minute walk from San Giovanni in Laterano. Also in the neighborhood, which we visited a couple of years ago, the Case Romane del Celioan extraordinary archeological site of 2nd and 3rd-century Roman houses with vivid frescoes. (Don’t worry about the language on the web page. Just go if you have the chance.)
So this is some of what we do with our spare time. As they say “Roma una vita non basta.” (A lifetime is not enough.)

A trip to the Questura

6 Oct
I should be writing about our trip to Switzerland and showing you beautiful pictures. I could be writing about the James Beard Foundation dinner we attended in Milan. (if anyone ever suggests you attend one, please do!) However, I am writing today about the latest installment in our journey to obtain the Permesso di Soggiorno we each need to remain in Italy legally.  Today, we visited the Questura (police station).
When I wrote about Our journey so far,  I mentioned we walked out of Poste Italiane with appointments for fingerprinting.  Here’s what I said at the end of that very long post:

At one point, he seemed to have completed my packet but handed me a receipt copy of the mailing label for sending the documents to the Questura that bore Ric’s name. I tried to point it out but was waved off. He proceeded with Ric’s packet then could not figure out why he did not have the proper label. Once again I tried to point out the problem but was waved off. He had Ric fill out another label, so now both my packet and Ric’s were labeled with Ric’s name and we feared the numbers would not be right in the system. More discussion. Papers shuffled. Perplexed expression. He opened my sealed application packet and saw the error. Not sure what to do, he simply manually corrected the code number on two documents so they match. The numbers in the computer system and what I have on paper match only because of a hand correction. Not sure that will fly….

Now we have appointments with the Questura for fingerprinting and I suppose some sort of interview, but God knows if this mix-up of coded paperwork at Poste Italiane will plague me. Maybe Ric will get a Permesso and I will be deported.

What I did not mention is that Poste Italiane set appointments for us on a day we would not be in Italy due to our planned trip to Switzerland. We shuddered to think of un-arranging those plans as we had cat sitters scheduled and we’d be forfeiting not only three days of our Swiss trek, but several hundred Euros in changed transportation and canceled lodging.
The first step in getting the appointment changed was to see if we were in the system. I looked every day. Eight days after the Poste Italiane experience, the Polizia di Stato website for stranieri showed Ric in the system. Hooray! But as I expected, the mix-up of coded paperwork made finding myself a problem. The number on the receipt the PI guy gave me was not right, but I was able to deduce it from the error I observed and so was able to find myself as well. I simply wrote a nice email to the Questura stating it would be difficult for us to make our appointments on 25 September, could we come sometime after 4 October? Miracle of miracles, they wrote back within one business day and changed them! Off to Switzerland we went.
Today, we journeyed to the Questura di Roma Divisione Stranieri (foreigners division) for our appointments. This division is located in the eastern part of Rome, near the notorious Tor Sapienza, where there is a refugee center and Rom (i.e., Gypsy) camp. Nice ‘hood. Luckily we took a taxi, both ways, as it would otherwise be two long bus rides and a stretch on the Metro, not to mention a walk through this area known for violence and immigrant problems. The Questura facility itself is behind unfriendly fences and, of course, there were dozens of people of assorted nationalities coming-and-going.
The first problem presented itself when I spoke to a member of the Italian Army who was organizing who should go where before we even got into the building. In addition to the email I had that confirmed our appointments, he wanted to see my original receipts from Poste Italiane. The guy at PI did not give those to us, despite my insistence we needed them. We were given copies with his stamp and initials on them. The soldier did not like this at all, but he let us get in line.
Once past security, we were corralled with everyone else that was there for the 12:30 pm appointments, hoofing it up to 3rd floor (4th American) because the elevator was only for use by pregnant women and the elderly. (Seriously. That’s what it said.) We don’t cotton to being elderly, so we walked up.
A clerk was checking paperwork and handing each person the packet that Poste Italiane had sent in for them. When it came to our turn, we were sent to the secretary on the second floor. It seems she was the one who changed our appointment date. But this woman said no, wait, the third floor has to handle this. She called upstairs then kindly accompanied us, apologizing all the way, telling us not to worry. She also wanted to know which office of the Poste Italiane had messed this up.
Back on the third floor, again more apologies, but no, they did not have our packets. (Yikes!) We were ushered to a very nice and competent immigration clerk who was able to process us. Not only did we have the problem that Poste Italiane had goofed up the code numbers as I suspected, but the packets had been sent to the third floor of the Questura for the original appointments scheduled for September 25th. Seems the agreement to change the appointment date didn’t get lined up with the delivery of the packets. I suspect we were seen as “no shows” on the 25th.
Our helpful and competent immigration official was able to find our application packets in their system, apparently scanned, and she made the appropriate cross-references, correcting the errors of Poste Italiane. There was much consultation among colleagues, and I know we were cutting into their lunch hour as it was now past 13:00, but she recognized the foul-up was theirs (and Poste Italiane’s) so she patiently worked through it and arranged for some people in the fingerprinting office to wait for us before going to lunch. We had brought along all the paper we submitted in San Francisco for our visas, as well as originals of everything submitted with the Permesso applications.  They asked for none of this, much to our surprise. The lease that was a sticking point with the Consulate General in San Francisco was a non-issue after all. I am glad we decided NOT to have it re-written and reregistered, for once saving a few hundred Euros.
What we experienced at the Questura was good teamwork, and in the way of all Italian networks, news of our problem with PI had spread like wildfire and everyone was talking about the error PI had made and trying to make it up to us. No one said, “It’s lunchtime I’m leaving.” We were treated very professionally and with courtesy. On our way out there were many farewells and thank yous all around, from the fingerprint people to the soldiers.
One more step to go: In about 40 days we should be able to pick up our Permesso cards at the commissariato (police station) near our home. Then we get to do it all over again next year to renew.

Il rientro

8 Sep
Il rientro is the period when the Italians come back from their August vacations. Back from the beach, from the mountains, or from wherever they have traveled. During il reintro people talk about where they’ve been, when they got back, what a state of stress they are in! Yesterday at the grocery store the woman in front of me queried: “O cielo! Di chi e’ questo carrello?”  (Heavens! Whose cart is this?) She had grabbed the wrong grocery cart and was unloading someone else’s merchandise. “Ehi! Il stress dopo vacanza!” she exclaimed. (Ah! The stress after vacation!) Yup, life is rough for an Italian mamma who spent the month of August at the beach.
Stores and restaurants that were closed for August are reopening, new merchandise for fall is arriving, and the streets are full again with no place to park except in pedestrian crossings and in doppia fila. It is SRO again on the buses.
Only in Roma would this be news. A car belonging to teh Ministry of the Interior was parked illegally and held up a bus for half-an-hour.
Only in Roma would this be news. Yesterday a car belonging to the Internal Ministry — which includes the State Police — was parked illegally and held up a bus for half-an-hour.
We are in our own re-entry, just back from the U.S. on August 28. We were fortunate to enjoy a few days of quietude in Roma before the hoards returned. Each day last week, piano piano it got busier in the streets. 
We had huge thunderstorms last Friday and Saturday, clearing the air and lowering the temperatures. We have not had to turn the apartment into a cave during the day, nor use any fans, for three days now. It is heavenly to sleep in the cool with the windows open and no fan. Unfortunately, the motorini still buzz by at all hours. The skies have some clouds most days, a pleasant change after the heat. We’ll still get many warm days (today is about 80 degrees Fahrenheit/27 Celsius), but the long stretches of hot hot hot days with nights barely dipping to 75F/24C should be over.
Roma is in the process of trying to clean up for the Jubilee Year that starts December 8. Proclaimed by Papa Francesco, the Jubilee is expected to draw huge crowds to Roma and the rest of Italy. Roma needs to look good for this. While there is an official effort with increased street cleaners having been hired, there is also a grass-roots movement, “I am Rome.” I do think the city seems a little cleaner than it was 6 weeks ago, although apparently people still do not know how to pick up dog poop.
Just today the mayor announced fine or 150-200 Euro for throwing cigarette butts on the ground. A bold move and welcome! No longer can smokers do the famous lancia where they pinch the butt between thumb and forefinger and hurl it at the street. I am not sure who will have time for writing tickets for butts, but today I saw a policewoman with Polizia Roma Capitale actually writing parking tickets. Miracles happen!
It’s good to be back home in the land of fabulous food and coffee. We had a lot of good meals in the U.S., but the food is fresher here and requires less seasoning. Pizza in Italy is simply THE BEST, and it doesn’t cost as much to eat out at a pizzeria in Roma as it did a couple of places we ate in the U.S. Wine in Italy is far cheaper too.
Now that's a pizza! Ric Barton displays a work-of-art in Roma.
Now that’s a pizza! Ric Barton displays a work-of-art in Roma.
Regarding wine, my brother had an excellent observation for those pursuing the best selection of wine in the world. In France, one finds French wines; in Italy, Italian. Where can you find wines from everywhere? Yup, Stati Uniti. The selection wines available in the U.S. outnumbers the variety of pasta in Italy, but oh, Lord, the wine is inexpensive in Italy!
For most Italian kids, school starts Thursday. In Italy, they get the whole summer off, from early June to early September, like we used to. Why do so many American schools start in August? That’s when families should be getting in a final camping trip, swimming at the shore, having picnics. I think they do that right in Italy. Il rientro in September is for everyone.
We plan to enjoy more local outings in the area now that temperatures are moderate. There is much to Roma that we have not seen. After all, una vita non basta! (One lifetime is not enough!)
Enjoy your own rientro, wherever you may be!
bentornati

The path to the permesso di soggiorno: Our journey so far

5 Sep
5 September 2015 – Thursday we dropped off our applications for our permessi di soggiorni. This is the document that entitles us to stay in Italy – and the Schengen Zone – for more than 90 out of 180 days. I have read over-and-over what a hideous process it is to get to this stage. Frankly, it has been a bit of work, a bit time-consuming, and necessitated a trip home to the U.S., but overall, the bureaucracy has been minimal.
Short version, lessons learned, for those who wish to apply:
  • Your printer will be sucking down ink like the Government Printing Office
  • Buy an extra ream of paper
  • Be prepared to sign a lease and make significant expenditures before you even know if you will be successful
  • Do not give into the first (or second, or third) attempt to dissuade you
  • Have a lot of cash, even more patience, and plenty of TIME

You cannot get a visa without an appointment

To legally enter Italy with the intention to stay more than 90 days in the Schengen Zone, one must have a visa. Application must be made in one’s own country, i.e., we had to go home. I tried every angle I could to see if we could apply here. I tapped friends and friends-of-friends and sources of friends-of-friends at the U.S. Embassy. Italian colleagues hooked me up electronically with their friends at the Italian Embassy in Washington, D.C., but no dice, no shortcuts. We needed to go to the U.S.
On the advice of an immigration attorney, we interpreted the date we exited the Embassy as the start of our 90-day countdown. We figured we had 90 days to enjoy Italy and some post-retirement travel and guests before we were stepping into the realm of illegal immigrants. We targeted August for our visa application.
Visa meme
There are many types of visas: religious purposes, joining a family member, study, and on and on. Our target was an Elective Residence visa, meaning we chose to live in Italy and promised not to work. This necessitated pulling together about a pound of paperwork, but not before we had made an appointment at the Consulate General of Italy in San Francisco. That in itself was a process.
Starting last winter I registered at the C.G. site so I could make an appointment. (You must go to the consulate serving the region of the U.S. in which you are resident. For us, that is Oregon.) Ric had to register too as we both needed appointments. I watched the online appointment system religiously, as they opened appointments out a week or two at a time. May opened up…then a couple of weeks in June. By March, they were getting to appointments at the end of July. July 29 popped up and I said “OK, that’s what we’ll do!” I clicked on all the appropriate radio buttons and selected 29 July 11:45 AM for my appointment. Success! I had a 15-minute appointment! But wait! The day was now shown as “full” with no additional appointments available. Ric needed one too. I was able to get him a placeholder on 22 July, but how inconvenient would it be for us to have appointments a week apart in San Francisco? So I wrote an email to the C.G. Could we come together, please, as a convenience and since “all family members” had to apply separately? Crickets. No response. I sent another email a few days later.  Perhaps my email was not received…I was wondering if we could please come together on the same day? Total silence.
As luck would have it, I was at a meeting of the American Women’s Association of Roma the next evening and joined a conversation where a few women were relating their tales of immigration bureaucracy. I told my tale and a delightful young woman was able to help me. A well-placed communique that she facilitated to the C.G. in San Francisco resulted in a dual appointment as desired. Once again, it’s who you know.
bureaucracy 2
I was also worried about finding the reputedly elusive packets we would need to apply for our Permessi upon our return with visas in hand. The packets are not always available, it seems, and one might need to run around to different post office locations to obtain them. So I started in April. I wanted them in hand before we traveled. Ha! First post office, I took a number for the Sportello Amico and in less than 10 minutes I had two packets! Now I only had to keep track of them until September.

Paperwork jungle

The Consulate General website has a long list of items one needs to prepare for the application. Mostly it seems you need to not be a criminal, have a bunch of money, sign a lease on a place to live, and prove you have healthcare coverage. (Although this latter item is not mentioned on the website, “everyone knows” you have to prove you have private insurance.)
In order to prove our upstanding nature, financial well-being, ability to house ourselves, and that we won’t be a drain on the medical system, it took almost a pound of paper for each of us. I carefully compiled a binder of documents for each of us, tabbed for easy reference. Bank statements for 3 bank accounts, two years of tax returns, letters of reference from bankers and accountants, investment statements, FBI criminal history check, official application, and on and on and on. The C.G. website said to bring originals and a copy, plus have a copy for reentry in Italy, so we each had about 6 pounds of paper flying from FCO to SFO. (Our clever plan was to replace that with new clothes while in the U.S.) This took days to accomplish, spread out over a few months with a concentration of about 30 hours in the last week before we left. We went through more ink than the Corriere dello Sport and at least one tree was killed to supply the paper.
paperwork meme 2
On the 70th day after turning in our diplomatic passports, allowing a little leeway to return and pick up our cats in case we were unsuccessful in getting visas, we flew to the U.S.

At the Consulate General

We had two tasks in San Francisco before we could go to our appointment: get money orders for the visa fees and obtain USPS Express Mail envelopes that were pre-paid and addressed to where the C.G. could send our passports back to us, hopefully with visas inserted.
We filled Ric’s backpack with our 12 pounds of paper and arrived 15 minutes ahead of our appointment time. We stood in line at the service window, entertained by hearing other would-be visa-holders’ conversations with the clerk. Some had interesting tales, others we not well-organized, some had no clue what they needed to do. We were smug in our knowledge of complete preparedness.
When our turn came, the clerk looked at my thick binder and said “Every piece of paper has to fit through this (transaction) window. You’ll have to take everything out. Give me the lease first.” At least I could locate the lease due to my fantastic organization. He scanned the first page of the lease and asked, “Where’s your husband’s name? He needs to be on the lease.” WTF? All this effort, all the travel to be foiled by a technicality? He told us we should go back to Italy and get the lease corrected. I thought he might actually turn us away at that point, close his window and step out for coffee. I pushed back: “We meet all of your requirements. We have all of the documents. We’ve been married for 31 years.” After some discussion, he agreed to ask his boss if she would see us. If!
We were ushered back to a conference table and met with a lovely Italian diplomat who also asked to see the lease first. Same story: Go back to Italy and get it corrected. Ugh! We engaged her in conversation to find out why this was a sticking point. She was worried that the Questura would take exception and she did not want us to have problems when we applied for the Permessi. So we talked some more. Ric offered that we had our marriage license along (in a great set of back-up documents we packed just-in-case). She brightened. “Let me have a copy of that.” We said perhaps we can have the lease altered in Italy before we go to the Questura. That was a hit. (Although at this point we decided not to do so. Our attorney said it should not be necessary, that it is normal for only one spouse to be on the lease.)
So we proceeded through the interview, reviewing each and every item on the list of required documents, the diplomat checking off on each. Frankly, when she saw the financials, she started to move along a little more efficiently. We prepared for this adventure. We have retirement incomes and good resources. We are spending our children’s inheritance.
We continued on, document by document, both my packet and Ric’s. Clean FBI criminal record? Check. “Yes,” I said, “I hope so! I worked for them!” Now she softened even more. Now she saw us as fellow diplomats, a shared experience. “I am sure you will make fine residents of Italy. These should be issued in about three days.” Total time at the Consulate General: 1 hour, 15 minutes. (It was supposed to be a 15-minute appointment.)
Seriously? Three days? The website says 7-15 days. Some sources mentioned 30-45 days! In fact, the visas arrived at their destination 5 days after our appointment!
The copy of all documents the website insisted was required was not. We were told to keep it. So we still had four pounds of paper. We stopped by an Office Depot store and had a copy shredded so we only had to shlep the copies that “might” be needed at our POE. They were not needed, BTW. No one looked at our visas or our paperwork at Fiumicino.

We’re not done yet

You know that saying “But wait! There’s more!” We are onto the next step, a process that we are obligated to initiate within 8 days of arriving in Italy. We landed at FCO August 28 and had to insist we get entry stamps in case it becomes important to establish date-of-entry. (At FCO getting a stamp is rather haphazard in our experience, so if you need one, you have to ask, or you might just get waved through.)
We spent the weekend getting over our trip, saying hello to Roma, and bidding our cat sitters good-bye. Tuesday I spent the entire afternoon preparing our Permesso packets. Yes, packets. An eight-page application, a copy of financials, sources of income, proof of health insurance, and every page of our passports, even the blank ones. Not quite a pound of paper this time. I did some judicious editing. Figured they did not need all of our bank statements.

paperwork mem

Armed with paperwork, Wednesday we set out on our quest to submit our packets. First stop, a Tabaccheria, where we would buy the Marca da Bollo (revenue stamp) required, Euro 16.00 each.  First stop: no they don’t sell them. No. they don’t know where I can find a shop that does. We walk a few blocks to another Tabaccheria. Nope, not here. “Avanti un po’.” We walk a few more streets and score. Back about a kilometer to Poste Italiano and take a number for the Sportello Amico. We did not even have our paperwork out before our number was blinking at the window! This was going to be easy. Ha!
The young man, at a major downtown location, who deals with stranieri all day, was supposed to speak a little English but did not. The first thing he looks at is the application containing the Marco da Bollo. Good. Then he wants the “other” document that contains the fee structure. It is call called a Conti Correnti Postale, a check from the post office that goes to the Questura, transmitting your fee for the Permesso. I needed guidance on this form as there was none in the excruciating instructions in the packet. (The application itself was made easy thanks to an e-book published by fellow blogger Rick Zullo.)  So I asked the clerk, which fee we should pay: 3 months to 1 year, 1-2 years, more than 2 years, or were we exempt for some reason? My impression at the Consulate General was that our Permessi would be for one year and renewable, but here was a form with choices. The clerk said he could not tell me, I had to tell him, and sent us down the street to an organization called 50 e piu’, that would be able to tell us everything. So we trotted down the street a few blocks to this agency (which provides various assistance to people “of a certain age”), where a young woman told us she did not know, we should go to the Questura and ask them. Really? The police station? We know we have to go there for fingerprinting and an interview later in the process, but certainly it should not be necessary to ask which duration was appropriate for our type of visa.
not helpful
So we went home to research a bit more. After perusing a few Italian government websites and applying a small amount of common sense, we decided we would simply check off the box for 3 months to 1 year, pay the Euro 107.50 fee for that (times 2) and basta!

Back into the fray

This time around we had to wait a bit. When our turn at the sportello came, the same young man helped us figure out how to fill out the Conti Correnti Postale then passed us off to an expert for processing the paperwork. Geez Louise! The “expert” was nice enough and knew his job, but he had to cross-reference three different forms with three different numbers for each of us, entering and scanning these items into the computer system of the Polizia di Stato, and extract two more payments from us. In cash. Do not go into this process thinking your debit or credit card will suffice. BRING CASH. Lots of cash. This cash will not be refundable should things not work out.
soldi meme
At one point, he seemed to have completed my packet but handed me a receipt copy of the mailing label for sending the documents to the Questura that bore Ric’s name. I tried to point it out but was waved off. He proceeded with Ric’s packet then could not figure out why he did not have the proper label. Once again I tried to point out the problem but was waved off. He had Ric fill out another label, so now both my packet and Ric’s were labeled with Ric’s name and we feared the numbers would not be right in the system. More discussion. Papers shuffled. Perplexed expression. He opened my sealed application packet and saw the error. Not sure what to do, he simply manually corrected the code number on two documents so the match. The numbers in the computer system and what I have on paper match only because of a hand correction. Not sure that will fly….
Now we have appointments with the Questura for fingerprinting and I suppose some sort of interview, but God knows if this mix-up of coded paperwork at Poste Italiane will plague me. Maybe Ric will get a Permesso and I will be deported.