Anagrafe 2

"Whoever you are,  I have always depended on the kindness of strangers." Blanche DuBois

When bloggers and others write about the Italian bureaucracy, invariably their stories are filled with negative images of power crazed or just plain lazy bureaucrats and a system run amuck.  And not just expats.  Italians moan and groan even louder than we do when they are forced to take a morning off of work to go to some comune office, especially the Genovese.  My Genovese friends tell me that complaining is a natural part of the Genovese character, and who am I to disagree.

But not all stories are negative ones.  Just the ones people write about.  So, I'm going to write about a great experience with Italian bureaucrats.

The final important step for us in our life here is the acquisition of residence or residenza.  Although it is not necessary to have residenza to live here, it is necessary if you want to participate in the National Health System, which of course we do.

In theory, I was supposed to apply for residenza when we first arrived.  But, the Italian Consulate in San Francisco had not forwarded all of my documents to the comune, so I had to wait for that to happen before I could submit my paperwork.  After much gnashing of teeth, I submitted the forms in mid-November.  Meanwhile, Ollie couldn't submit his paperwork until he received his permesso di soggiorno which of course he didn't receive until mid February.  More teeth gnashing.  I'm beginning to become really concerned because our traveler's insurance is expiring and I really need to get us into the National Health system.  I even began the research into a private expat insurance policy only to find that a one year policy for Ollie alone which covers pre-existing conditions would cost a mere $17,000!  Stopped me in my tracks.

Finally, two weeks ago, I received a letter from the Anagrafe summoning me to an appointment for an interview, the final step before receiving residenza. No problem.  Monday of last week, I take the bus to the Anagrafe.  The appointment is quick, 5 minutes max, and I'm ready to take my obligatory 3 photos and my Italian passport to the sportello, which is of course closed, to receive my carta d'identita (identity card.)  So Tuesday morning I get up early and go back to the Anagrafe.  I get there around 9am, wait for a few minutes and my number is called.  I sit down with a very nice lady and as I go through the computer screen to make sure all of my information is correct, I see that Ollie's name is completely wrong.  Instead of his legal name "Oliver", they have his nickname "Ollie".  Worse yet, they have his middle name as his last name and his last name as his first name.  I immediately realized that this was all bad.  What I didn't know at 9:30 in the morning, was how all bad it actually was.  That would come as the day progressed.

Now I am sure that my American readers are thinking to themselves, "well, just change it."  But, unfortunately, that's not how it works here.  Everything is based on documents.  All the documents have to be exactly alike.  So, I spend the next 1 1/2 hour working with not one, but 3 bureaucrats, only one of whom has any knowledge of English, trying to figure out where the problem is.  Fortunately, I have my English-Italian dictionary with me, because we keep having to pass it around so everyone understands.  My Italian is not holding up very well under the pressure of bureacratic lingo.  Finally, at noon, when the office shuts down for lunch, I'm told to return at 3:00 with Ollie, his passport, our marriage certificate and it's translation.  I know, at least I hope I know, that the comune already has the documents, but I rush home nevertheless to find my copies.

At 3:00 we return to the Anagrafe, this time with a hall pass since the building is closed to the public on Tuesday afternoons, to meet our bureaucrats.  We all look at the documents, everyone shakes their heads and we begin a tour of the Comune di Genova.  Accompanied by a very nice man, we start backtracking the problem.  First we go to the Stato Civile to make sure I'm in the computer.  Because Genova is my ancestral comune, all of my personal documents, birth, marriage, divorce, children's births, are filed with the Stato Civile.  I'm there, so is Ollie, just not in the correct order.  Now we know that the problem is with the marriage certificate so off we go to the Ufficio Registro dei Matrimoni.  More bureaucrats.  There we find the original documents sent by the Consulate in San Franciso, and therein we find one of the problems.  When we were married, Ollie used his nickname on the license.  I had been required prior to receiving my Italian passport to have the State of California amend the marriage certificate to be consistent with Ollie's legal name.  However, when his name was entered into the comune's database, the amendment had been overlooked.  One problem solved.  The harder problem turned out to be explaining the middle name, because, as a rule Italians don't use middle names.  Plus, Ollie's middle name is a family name, so it wasn't recognizable as Robert or James or another common English name might have been.  Ultimately, I make myself understood, but since it is now about 4:30, it's too late to make the changes.  Once again, we are told to return, but this time with Ollie's photos as well.  They are going to forego the 6 months of residence from date of application for him and give us both residenza and our carte d'identita.

Wednesday afternoon we returned to the Anagrafe and received our bright, shiny, new documents.  And we also received an open invitation to return if we ever have any questions or any problems while we live in Genova.  In all, we worked with 7 different bureaucrats.  Without exception they were polite, generous with their time, and tolerant of my Italian.  We had a few laughs, generally at my expense, but we worked towards a common goal and it was great.  Perhaps next time, with some other bureaucrat, it won't be so nice, in fact, one of them even told me as much.  But I will never again join the chorus of complainers.  Well, maybe not never, just not soon.

The Palazzo Ducale, seat of the Government of the Republic of Genova, now a major art venue.

The medieval Grimaldina Tower - Part of the Palazzo Ducale.  Built sometime between 1298 and 1307,  it was originally used to house political prisoners.  In the competitive 17th century, a significant number of prisoners were competing artists who had a habit of assaulting each other.  Later the brilliant violinist Niccolo Paganini, father of modern violin technique, and native to the caruggi of Genova, was imprisoned here for kidnapping a minor.