Immigration 101

A few days ago I went with my teammate Cristi to the immigration office to apply for my Permesso di Sogorno (permission to stay). Wow! What an experience! First of all we got VERY lost, Cristi's phone was out of minutes, and I don't have a cell. So we wandered around and asked for directions from three different people who in turn gave three different answers. Go figure. We did, however, finally arrive around 10:30 in the morning. My “appointment” was at 10:47 (I use the word appointment loosely since an appointment consists of standing outside in a crazy line of smelly, dirty, yelling immigrants who are shoving you from every direction in their desperation for a ticket. IF you get to the end... and IF the officials approve of your paperwork... THEN they award you the precious ticket which gives you the right to a real appointment). By the way, Ken and Mindi went for their permesso earlier that week and got to immigration to pick up a ticket at 7am. Their ticket number didn't get called until supper time. Welcome to the world of immigration. Anyway, when we got there they had already CLOSED the ticket booth for the day. I couldn't believe it! If you don't get your permesso your visa will run out and you can get deported! Trust me... this was looking like a very, very bad situation.

However, Cristi and I were not willing to be stopped by a minor detail such as missing out on the all important ticket. So we marched ourselves right into that building and headed for the first uniformed immigration officer we saw. “Signor, Signor Mi Scusi.” Cristi said as she waved my appointment papers over the gate. We were stuck in a group of other apparently ticket-less (and slightly riotous) immigrants and the officer wanted nothing to do with any of us pathetic creatures. “Mi scusi signor! Appointmento!” (by the way... never quote any of my Italian since half the words I use are ones I've made up... e.g. “appointmento”)

We were pointing at the papers now and I was practically jumping up and down in my desire to obtain the all important ticket. And I mean really... how could they not let me in? I had an appointment for crying out loud! I was praying frantically now as I watched his less than helpful demeanor and look of complete and udder disdain.

“Per favore,” I called out for good measure. The man stopped briefly, just long enough to tell us no and NOT look at our papers.

My hope was gone. What were we going to do? Was I going to be shipped out of the country with no return ticket? Would they ever let me come back? My brain was spinning as I frantically searched the room for other options. (da da done)


To be continued...

Pray for the Caldbecks

Our teammates the Caldbecks had their house broken into last night. They are all fine and nothing was taken. However it was a traumatic experience since Laurel was home alone at the time and nearly walked right into the intruder. Thankfully the Caldbecks live right next door to the Heizers and from what I understand Ken was able to go over and help Laurel. I don't have all the details right now but please keep these two families in your prayers as I am sure they are still shook up over last night's events.

A Saturday in Italy

Our Kitchen has arrived! The instillation men came around 8:45 this morning and had everything in by 10:30 or so. It was a very interesting experience. They figured out immediately that we weren't Italian (go figure) and were laughing at us incessantly. Sigh... have I mentioned lately how frustrating it can be to not understand what's being said around you? Thankfully Laura knows enough to get us by... but we did go across the hall and get Thomas to come sit in the apartment with us (he also speaks some Italian). That worked like a charm... they straightened up pretty fast and got down to business with the instillation instead of spending all of the morning laughing at the dumb American girls. Now we have a nice working refrigerator!!! YAY! We still need to wait for our gas to get turned on and the plumber/gas man to come hook up our sink and stove (it's illegal for anyone but a specially licensed man to do it otherwise I'm sure one of us would be able to figure out how to at least get the faucet running).

Alore... on another note... I went to the grocery store all by myself today! A big feat for someone who only knows how to say “sorry I don't speak Italian” and “excuse me.” Not to mention I have to make all of my purchases based on the pictures since I obviously can't actually read the Italian labels. Did I mention that the other day I tried to buy orange juice and accidentally purchased unsweetened yellow grapefruit juice? Yes that was a shock when I took the first sip. True story. Anyway... today I went all by myself because we had nothing to eat for breakfast and we couldn't leave the men in the house alone. So it fell upon me to go breakfast shopping. It was a good experience and the cashier was very pleasant and understanding about me not knowing Italian. No mishaps... I'd definitely call that a good experience!

Our Kitchen is Coming... Our Kitchen is Coming!

Tomorrow we are getting our kitchen! YAY! I can't tell you how excited I am. Granted we don't have gas yet so we won't be able to hook up our stove top. But we will have running water and a sink, an oven, cabinets, etc. Since we've been here we've been walking down the street to our team leader's house to cook two times a day (which is probably excellent for digestion... but just a tad inconvenient).

I hope to have some before and after pics to show you soon. For now I'm off to paint the walls before everything gets installed! Ciao!

Communication... Part I

It is amazing how much we take language and communication for granted. Knowing how to ask for directions, being able to convey whether you'd prefer paper or plastic, or just being able to smile and say good morning to your neighbors. It is strange how you appreciate something the most when you no longer have it. I close my eyes at night and my head spins with words I hear but don't understand. Non adesso, alora, and che cosa. What do they mean? Why are they stuck in my head? And wherever did I hear them?

Yes our ability to communicate effects us in ways we can't even imagine. For example...

A few days ago I was out buying supplies with some of the girls on the team. It was late when we finished up and since we were loaded down with large supplies (e.g. an iron, ironing board, laundry detergent, etc) we decided to ride a taxi cab home. The ladies were busy chatting in the back seat and I was upfront with the driver when he asked in Italian what number we were going to. I was very impressed with myself when I realized I had picked up the words for apartment and number and therefore knew what he was asking.

“204!” I announced with enthusiasm and rather loudly. He stared back at me blankly then repeated himself.

“204!” I once again declared with a huge grin. This time he shook his head and looked at me as if I was nuts as he asked for the THIRD time what my apartment number was. I opened my mouth to AGAIN tell him that I lived at 204. Suddenly it dawned on me, I was speaking English and had absolutely no idea how to say "two hundred and four" in Italian. Sighing I turned to the ladies in the back, “Can somebody please tell this poor man what number we live at?”

Yes... communication is essential. And yes... I will be starting language school this month!