The Fingerprints -- Not!

In order for us to live and work here, the Italian government requires that we all have “soggiorno permits” – not sure of the equivalent in the US.  At any rate, because of the support of the post, we really don’t have to jump through too many hoops (compared to other foreigners) to acquire and maintain this permit.  The system is slow, so we wait. . . but usually all turns out well.  I, however, have recently been randomly selected as a person who must be fingerprinted – one of a handful in the past several years.  Again, we get a lot of support, so it should be easy to accomplish.  Should be.  I was escorted by the Italian post liaison down to the Questura today (yes, that meant a morning away from work, a morning that a sub must be hired) to get this done, and, you guessed it, that office is not open today:

Can you come back Monday?

But, sir, we called ahead to ensure that Friday would be okay.

Sorry. No.

Please. I spoke with the other lady {who is conveniently absent today} who specifically told me to come on Friday.  Can you make an exception?

Oh.  Let me call them. {Phone call is placed.}

Nope. Not possible. You must come again some other day. Have a nice day J

 

And that. . . .is life in Italy.  Even though this mornings outing was not successful I feel lucky, very lucky indeed.  I saw the throngs of immigrants there trying to accomplish this on their own.  I saw how the Italians treated them.  I saw the dirty children.  I saw the look of despair in the eyes of the mothers.  Fortunate indeed.