{"id":309,"date":"2012-11-30T05:56:41","date_gmt":"2012-11-30T04:56:41","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/rickzullo.com\/?p=309"},"modified":"2021-11-12T21:54:12","modified_gmt":"2021-11-12T20:54:12","slug":"permesso-di-soggiorno-3","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/rickzullo.com\/permesso-di-soggiorno-3\/","title":{"rendered":"Permesso di Soggiorno Part III \u2013 Entering the Arena"},"content":{"rendered":"
Let’s continue our discussion of obtaining your Permesso di Soggiorno<\/em>. \u00a0You’ll be relieved to know that we’re almost finished, and indeed these are the last steps in our quest.<\/p>\n OK, by now\u00a0you’ve\u00a0obtained your application kit (Permesso di Soggiorno – Part 1<\/a>) and filled it out properly in black<\/strong> ink (Permesso di Soggiorno – Part 2<\/a>) and have the Marca da Bollo<\/em> for \u20ac14,62 affixed to the top of the application.\u00a0 Now it\u2019s time to do battle.\u00a0 If you don\u2019t feel adequately prepared, please review those two previous blog entries first before entering the Arena (a.k.a. The Italian Post Office).<\/p>\n A couple of years ago I read a book by the Milanese writer Beppe Severgnini called, \u201cCiao, America!\u201d \u00a0In the book, he recounts his year-long sabbatical in the U.S., highlighting the things he found strange and peculiar about American culture.\u00a0\u00a0In one of my favorite passages, he laments that American bureaucracy is too<\/em> easy\u2014for an Italian, there\u2019s just no challenge in it.\u00a0 The simile that he used was perfect: an Italian confronting American bureaucracy is like a champion matador facing down a milk cow. \u00a0There\u2019s simply no contest, ergo no fun.<\/p>\n This comparison can be enlightening to the newly expatriated American in Rome when you ponder the scenario from the other way around.\u00a0 Just so.\u00a0 My first foray into an Italian post office left me feeling like a Wisconsin dairy farmer that had accidentally wandered into La Corrida de Madrid<\/em> on a Sunday afternoon.\u00a0 It\u00a0wasn’t\u00a0pretty, my friends, and I was grateful to have emerged with my limbs intact.<\/p>\n