So, after this incredibly planned and polished opening post it is now time to get to work. 'In the beginning was the was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning' (Gospel of 'John' 1:1-2), and write that god I shall. This blog is about me, about my experiences in the world and, more specifically, in Milan, Italy. The language I write in is English, because, although I'm settling quite well in this country, I'm still getting used to the change of language. As I am as of now a teacher of English and as my English is still a bit rusty, filling this blog with my daily experiences and everything that I ponder is good practice. And additionally, I must admit that I also find the increase of possible readers quite exciting. However, I have this misplaced pretentious notion of my own literary prowess which will most probably make this blog one of the most unreadable ones on the web. But hey, as long as I'm having fun, eh?
The first subject I should write about is of course Italy, about how I like the country and the Italian people. It would be a mistake to start with the usual bitching foreigners living in Italy habitually express, because starting off with negative statements isn't very attractive nor is it particularly appropriate or true in my case. Besides, I haven't lived in this country long enough to be able to prioritize the most rewarding bitch subjects. No, my first experiences with Italian weather, food, people, law, and the completely ineffective way of government and administration have on the whole been very good. All the excruciatingly painful and time-consuming steps of going through the process of getting the necessary paperwork done in order to become a resident, find a job and get insurance - which I know have driven other people insane because of the inefficiency and unfairness of the system - have not been major problems for me. Ergo, I have no problem with the Italian system.
It took me only two hours to get a codice fiscale (something like a social security number but not completely the same), less than three hours to obtain my permesso di soggiorno (residence permit), less than a day to find a job and less than half an hour to get health insurance. 'And why would it take more time and effort? This already seems like quite a hassle', you might ask and would be right in doing so since I moved here from Holland which is an EU country just like Italy. You would be wrong, however, to assume that it is always this easy. Getting your codice fiscale means getting up at an ungodly hour to get in line outside the Agenzia dell'Entrata (Agency of Entrance), waiting a long time before the office actually opens, getting in line to get a form and a ticket and then waiting for hours and hours until it is finally your turn and you get your codice. This should take the better part of a day. However, I was there in August and since there is no one in Milan in August, I was very lucky. With your codice fiscale you can start looking for a job. Looking, not actually getting one yet. Because as long as you don't have a permesso di soggiorno, you are not allowed to work - and as long as you don't have a job, you don't get a permesso di soggiorno.
However, being a teacher of English does have its advantages. There appears to be an enormous shortage of English teachers in Milano, because everywhere I applied I was hired instantly, even though I'm not a qualified teacher at all. But I will discuss my new employment in a later post. What is important is that you can get a permesso di soggiorno with a declaration from your future employer stating that they will hire you as soon as the government gives you your permesso. However, this is usually not all you need. You may need to show that you have health insurance in the country you come from, that you have enough means of support (copy of your creditcard), the receipt from the booking of the hotel room you stayed in the very first night you were here, a statement from your regular baker that you really are one of his customers, a T-shirt with the text 'I *heart* the pope' printed on it, that you know all the words of the translation of the Italian anthem in Venetian dialect or a certificate proving that you are related to the neighbour of the sister of the grandmother of the family doctor of the regular grocer of the intimate friend of the brother of the assistant of the caretaker of Berlusconi's cat. Fortunately, I didn't need any of those things, but my passport, codice fiscale, declaration from my future employer and some photographs were quite enough to get me a permesso for the period of five years.
Five years? Most people just get one for one year - or maybe two - but never five, not the very first time. Everybody else has to go back to get his permesso renewed every year, but not me. This is a very effective action of the Italian government, because not only do I save time and effort by not having to come back every year but I was also done in under three hours. This is quite remarkable, since the experience at the questura (police station) where one gets one's permesso is like the one at the Agenzia dell'Entrata. Except that it is supposed to be much, much worse. On average, it takes about two days to get your permesso, but people have been known to have to return five or more times (Olaf, for instance, has been to two different questura offices to try to get his permesso renewed (and waited in line there) and was finally told to come back in October). Unless of course if the man who owns the store where you buy your cigarettes is an acquaintance of a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend of a police offer, because in that case you can obviously get an appointment and don't have to stand in line.
With your permesso di soggiorno you can go to the Ufficio Communale, the local municipality, to register. This takes a few hours of filling out forms and waiting, but when it's your turn you come to the counter where the bored employee tells you everything is in order and that within a few weeks a police officer will come by your house to check whether or not you really live there. When the police officer has checked this and is satisfied that you do, you have to wait about three months until your carta d'identita (identity card) is ready with which you can get the free health insurance. Although the police officer hasn't come to my house yet and the three months have not even started yet, we decided to take our chances. I had absolutely no trouble registering for ASL (the free health insurance), even though I didn't have my carta d'identita yet.
So all is well and the paperwork almost done (I will have to go and pick up my carta d'identita at some point) and I am very happy about that. Next post will be about casa nostra and will have pictures! Ciao, Fe
No comments:
Post a Comment