As much as I love coming
to Italy for the beauty, food, people and tranquility, I also like the
challenge of learning a new language and discovering how to get by on
our own in a different land. Lucky thing, because now I have to figure
out how to get Lucy’s citizenship here in Italy instead of at the
Italian consulate in California. This new challenge is not
entirely unwelcome, and we’re making progress every day.
On Tuesday, I went to the
comune in Pescia, where my citizenship is registered. After leaving
his window to consult with a colleague for a few minutes, the clerk
came back and told me I’d have to go to the Prefettura in Lucca.
Wednesday, off to Lucca,
where I found many offices for the Prefettura. On the fourth try, I
found the right one and explained what we were seeking. The helpful
clerk asked me a few questions and then spoke with a colleague on the
phone. He explained that it would be a three-step process. First, get
a permesso di soggiorno at the Questura. Second, apply for residency
in the comune at Montecarlo. Third, come back to the Prefettura and
apply for citizenship.
What a difference a few
years and a little language learning makes! The clerk understood
everything I said, and I understood everything he said—so different
from our misadventures
in Padova in 2001. So off to the Questura, and on the third try, I found the right office. I realized on approach that it had to be the right door, because dozens of multi-national immigrants and refugees were milling around or waiting in one of the
four lines. Sportello 1 said it was for informazione and permesso, and it only had one person in line ahead of me.
I had read online a few
years ago that one must first go a post office to get the needed
forms and an appointment time, but I figured I’d try
my luck directly at the Questura first. And it almost worked, but not
quite, because I was missing the first item on the list: the
applicant. The lady at the window looked at our passports and said
all we needed to obtain the forms and an appointment was Lucy to
appear in person.
So, Thursday, off we went
together, arriving 10 minutes before opening hours so we’d be near
the head of the line. After a 20-minute wait, we received our forms
and an appointment for March 2, not too long to wait. And it appeared
that the requirements weren’t too difficult: four photos (easily
obtained at a photo booth), a marca da bollo tax sticker for 16 euro
to be purchased at the nearest tabaccaio, copies of Lucy’s
passport (including every stamped page), a copy of our registered
marriage certificate from Pescia (which I already had), and a
declaration from me that I was hosting the foreign visitor at my
house, along with a copy of the main page of my passport. The application form consisted of only a half page of very
basic information.
We went home to fill out
the forms, buy the tax sticker and make the photocopies. I had a few
questions about how to fill in several lines on the form, and then I
came to one requirement that struck a note of fear in my heart, a
line that said ‟Certificazione medica.” The lady at the
desk had not mentioned or explained that, and it had a pen mark under
it—or maybe through it—I couldn’t tell for sure.
Is that last line underlined or crossed out? |
The reason I hadn’t been
able to obtain a permesso di soggiorno during our year in Padova so
long ago is that the clerk at the Questura there said we must have a
medical insurance policy, translated into Italian. We had traveler’s
insurance, and I had translated it with some help, but it didn’t
cover preexisting conditions. The clerk had denied my application.
Not wanting to wait until
March 2, Lucy and I went back today for clarification. ‟Questa
linea, e' sottolineata o cancellata?” I asked. ‟Cancellata,” she
answered. There would be no need for a medical certificate or
insurance. I showed her my other questions, all easily answered, and
then asked a final question: ‟Since I have all the documents filled
out, the tax stamp and the photos, is there any way we can have an
earlier appointment?”
She walked into a back
office, then came out and looked at her calendar. How about February
18? Domani? Si, si! So we are close to completing step 1. I feel 99
percent certain I have everything we need and that we’ll be
successful tomorrow. I’m not sure if we will receive the permesso
the same day or if we’ll have to come back, but soon we’ll move
on to step 2, the residency permit. I just went through that process
myself last April, so I know it’s not complicated.
I don’t want to jinx
this, but I may look up in Guinness what’s the world record for the
fastest foreigner to obtain Italian citizenship, because Lucy just could
be in the running!
Good job clarifying that Feburary 18 was domani and not February 18, 2018.
ReplyDeleteLearned my lesson. I may be dumb, but I'm not stupid.
DeletehAHA Randy.
ReplyDelete