This is a two-part post. The first was written before April 21st, the second part afterwards…
Some stories just grind on, and on, and on… the end just may be in sight, though, for the Tale of the Elusive Permessi.
Our former Permessi di Soggiorno, the very important documents that give us permission to be in the country, expired last July. With the invaluable help of the Patronato office in Rapallo we each applied (in May!) for a Carta di Soggiorno, which will give us a permission of longer duration. (The accounts of this adventure up to now can be found here.) Unfortunately the process was not completed before we left the country in November.
The Captain was able to navigate the Questura’s website when we got back, and found, to our delight, that our Permessi are now ready for us. Yippee!! But of course one cannot simply show up at the Questura and ask for them; one must make an appointment. And there’s only one way to do that. One must go to the Questura. In Genova. On a Tuesday or Thursday between 3:30 and 5:30 p.m. Well, okay… seems a little Baroque, but we’re game.
So we hopped on the local train (I love any train ride, so I was thrilled), rode 40 minutes to Genova, trotted t
o the gate at the Questura, thrust our passports under the glass and were issued with two little slips of paper with the day (April 21), the time (10:00 a.m.) and the numbers of our appointments. Then we jogged back to the train station and just caught a train which, 40 minutes later, dropped us in Rapallo.
Next Tuesday, April 21, we will repeat the exercise, although we know full well that we will sit in the waiting room for an indeterminate amount of time until our names are called. At least this time we have been given appointments on the same day. We had to go on successive days last time. With luck we will be given shiny new Carte di Soggiorno that will last us five years. By which time we will have forgotten what a long process this has been.
I’m not really complaining about Italian bureaucracy (yes I am); it’s their country, and they are very nice to allow us to be here at all, and we are happy (well, willing anyway – what choice do we have?) to comply with any and all requirements to stay here. But doesn’t it seem odd that one cannot make an appointment by phone, fax or e-mail? They’ve seen the passports before and taken fingerprints and, and, and… In fact, why not just mail us the Permessi? Oh gosh, there I go again, being all American and efficient. Where’s the fun in that?
———– TIME PASSES————-
Okay… it’s disclaimer time…
We went to the Questura at the appointed time, and after only a little confusion were sent down to the Immigration waiting room. Here is the rest of the 10 o’clock gang:
It’s a stuffy room at the best of times, so we prefer to wait outside where we can also keep an eye on the room to which we will eventually be summoned. That’s it on the right behind all the glass:
Now here’s the amazing thing. Our appointments were for 10 a.m., and we were actually called in at 10:30. We have never, ever, had such a short wait at the Questura. Not only that, once one is called in there is frequently another long wait inside. Not this time. There were two people in front of us, each of whom took less than five minutes. The Captain walked up to the glass partition when his number was called, pushed his passport and old permesso through, and back came a paper for a signature, followed rapidly by an envelope containing his permesso card and a bunch of secret codes for things we don’t understand (yet). Then it was my turn, and everything was just as expeditious.
We walked out of the Questura at 10:45, both proud holders of Permessi di Soggiorno that are good until 2013 – that’s four years! It makes us feel almost indolent to have that much time before we must repeat the process. Now the trick will be to remember to apply for the new permessi in late 2012…
An Ex-Expatriate 
dear Ms Farfalle. Italian Bureaucracy WAS a nightmare. I had to walk one week or so around the public offices in Rome to get my first passport. I never took my driving licence with me: better to risk a fine that to be in the need to ask for a duplicate. I gave up a credit card, because bloking it was a legal nighmare. Italian Bureaucracy IS not a nighmare. You ask and receive your passport at the nearest Post Office or at your town hall. They send you home a duplicate of your lost driving licence. You block a credit card with a free call. Permessi di Soggiorno (alas, I dont need one) maybe are an exeption, possibly because the Questura tries to discourage the applicants and possibly because there are lots of forged papers made by clandestini to check. Where we are at sub-Congo level is the judiciary, but luckily you don’t look like a person looking for trouble.
Dear Mr. Giovanni ~ I’m glad to hear that bureaucracy is easing somewhat. I hope not to lose my license, I worked so hard to get it – but if I do, it’s a relief to know I won’t have to go to the Questura to replace it! I suspect you’re correct about the Permesso di Soggiorno situation. Actually, I can’t imagine how any country handles the problems and complications of immigration – and it’s especially hard for a country like Italy which is so attractive that everyone wants to come here. (!) And Italy sits right between eastern and western Europe, and between North Africa and the rest of Europe – and with all those miles and miles of seacoast. I don’t know how there is any control at all. But there is, and for that the powers that be deserve Complimenti. I’ve heard the courts are a big problem – looooong delays, etc. I hope never to find out first hand, and hope that you haven’t either. Thanks for your comment, which makes me feel even happier than usual about living in Italy.
Matthew and I were in the Philippines as “Seagulls” that is an impolite term for those who follow boats! Officially, the USN knew nothing of our presence since we were there on our own nickel. We lived “in town” in a really lovely bordello, which were the best accommodations we could find. Needless to say, this provided a wealth of stories for my dotage.
Italian bureaucracy reminds me of that same institution in the Phillipines, only more so because yours is so organized.
Many years ago (more than I’d care to admit to; suffice it to say that Matthew was very short) I was in the Phillipines for an extended stay. In order to remain past my 30 day visitor visa, I needed to receive permission. However, there was a secret rigamarole necessary and no one seemed able to explain the rules.
Each day, we showed up at the appointed government building in Manila and waited for the correct official. Each day someone different told us we were in the wrong place, arrived at the wrong time or some other wrong had been committed. We were to return the following day with all necessary papers. BTW, Manila was a four hour trip each way from where we were staying.
Next day, same runaround. By Day Five this was getting really old, especially waiting in stuffy, none-too-clean government building with a rambunctious toddler.
Finally, at my wits end, at some minor official’s desk I began to cry. “I just want to stay here and shop” I wailed. A smile lit his pinched face and he began stamping my papers with “unlimited” in the space alloted for “length of stay”.
If only I’d thought of this sooner ……… we would have had a lot more beach time!
What a clever response to an unpleasant problem. I wish we’d thought of it, Italy being a nation of shoppers. By the way, I’m surprised the Navy couldn’t help you with this, or don’t they do that sort of thing?