Having researched a working visa for a few months, the one that I decided to apply for is called a 'Working Holiday' (hence the title of the blog.) It's valid for 6 months, and once it expires you cannot reapply for the same visa. Having said that, it's also the most easy to obtain and through some contacts working at the Italian consulate Gino and I decided this would be my best option. I am incredibly lucky because Gino is in the position to give me a job, and write me a work contract. I think this helped immensely with the entire process. Before my arrival I took a semester of Italian lessons at UBC. Although this in no way prepared me to deal with applications and offices, it did vastly improve my conversational Italian skills and ability to understand in some situations.
Anyways, after jumping through all of the appropriate hoops and obtaining my visa I thought I was in the clear. All I had to do was check in with the 'Questura' (for those non-Italians this is like a police station with an immigration office in it) within 8 days of arriving and request a 'permesso di soggiorno' (which after all this time I'm still not really sure what that is, apparently it helps me be able to reapply for a different visa.) Piece of cake right? WRONG.
Having a native Italian helping me with the entire process was a god send. I realize how silly it is that I would expect anyone to be able to speak enough english to help me with this, but the people I was dealing with work in government offices that process immigration applications everyday. Also, Italian offices are open only from 8 am to 12 pm, for someone who usually works nights this is an issue. Not only that but some offices will stop taking appointments, not when they close, but when they have filled their quota for the day (number unknown, but we arrived 2 hours before one office closed and they refused to see me). Getting back to the point, we go to the Questura who has never heard of my specific visa before. She tells us that although my Canadian documents tell me specifically to go there, we're in the Wrong place and must go to the post office to get the proper forms.
So off to the post office, which in itself would be a hilarious situation if it weren't so frustrating. There are probably 20 different tellers. When you go in the post office, there's a machine that gives you a number depending on why you're there. There are usually about 30-50 people waiting ahead of you depending on the time of day. Sometimes people give up and throw out their numbers. Without fail, almost every Italian who comes through the door will check through all of the discarded numbers to see if they can find one that will get them closer to seeing an actual person. This is typically Italian, not wanting to wait for anything.
After getting the appropriate papers (the post office teller had also never heard of my Visa) we decided to call it a day since all of the offices would be closed anyways. The next day we start again. This continues for TEN DAYS AND TWELVE OFFICES. The most hilarious of which was when we went to this huge office on the outskirts of town that deals specifically with immigration. They had never heard of my Visa. Finally, the third person helping us has heard of it, but informs us that they don't have the forms that we need because my Visa is too new. IT HAS BEEN IN USE SINCE 2006. They also asked me why I would want to come to Rome from Canada to work in the most condescending possible tones. 'FOR LOVE, PEOPLE, but it doesn't really matter anyways because I have the visa to just give me the papers,' I wanted to say, but I refrained and simply chuckled.
Seriously, we went all over town. We waited for hours in every possible office. We discovered that I actually needed much more than to just check in with the Questura as the consulate in Vancouver had informed me. I needed a fiscal code, I needed copies of my documents, I needed a copy of my work contract. It was so incredibly frustrating. Having been taught that usually you get more flies with honey than with vinegar, through out this whole process I tried to be a sweet and friendly as possible. THIS IS ALSO A MISTAKE. Apparently in most Italian offices they will tell you that there is no way they can help you until you start to get upset/ be rude at which point they actually help you. We finally get all of the paperwork together, find the right office with all of the appropriate forms. The man tells me (probably the 10th person) that he has never heard of my visa and that I need to get some paperwork before he can help me. By now I know the drill. I take out the forms he asked for, point to their titles. He adjusts his glasses and starts to make phone calls. He finally fills out the form that I need. I feel like hugging him and crying of joy, I restrain myself.
Only one more step left. Back to the post office to pay for the processing of my papers, and set up my appointment! Repeat number taking, wait an hour and a half, drink three espressos while waiting. My number comes up! I have to pay the man 85 euros to process the papers. This is on top of the 150$ I paid to the consulate in Vancouver. He makes me an appointment. It's not until half way through March. My Visa expires at the end of June.
Throughout this ordeal I had native Italians, and a gps helping me. Can you Imagine if I had tried to do this on my own? I would be back in Canada. Whenever I tell this story to an Italian they say 'Haha Welcome to Italy.' The silver lining was that while riding all around Rome on the back of a scooter in the morning, I got to smell the espresso roasting wafting through the city. Something that I might never have experienced had I not had to be up so early. Simple pleasures.
We've come to the conclusion that I am the only person, in the history of Rome, to have had this visa. Or at least the only one to have gotten the right paperwork.
More pictures to remind me why I'm here:
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