Police, post office, the migration service. Three circles of paradise in Italy

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Police, post office, the migration service. Three circles of paradise in Italy

Сообщение DARPA » 01 мар 2015, 22:40

Any Russian person can imagine my feelings when I realized that in the design of the residence permit are three instances: the police, post and Migration Service.
Hair, embarking on end with horror - less what happened to me at this moment :))
I not only lived for 25 years in Russia, but also had a "happiness" to be undocumented abroad, as well as the same deal with the police.
Moreover, a month before the move I lost all documents and money in Paris and on arrival was forced to restore the passport law, credit card and other important significance (about this - some other time).
Lost during the event had to rebuild nerves in Italy three weeks of sleep.
So, given the slowness of local processes to no good I'm not ready.
And it is in vain.

1. Within 48 hours after arrival to register with the police.

I arrived with a temperature of 39 and slept for about 45 hours. About the police prefer to forget my brain. Remember, I was covered with cold sweat, and his head began to move first thought - the arrest, deportation and other pleasures of life. We sat down at the phone and started calling karabineram. Karabinery redirected us to the police, the police - in the migration office, they - back karabineram. Muddle we found where to go. It is worth noting that even the slightest hint of rudeness or dissatisfaction I have not heard. Yes, not everyone knows exactly what we need to do (the town is not much burdened by immigrants from the north), but tried very hard to help. And on the issue of non-performing 48 hours, laughing, answered - think of something, the main thing is recovering.
As a result, I did not even have to go. Desired piece of paper in the area took my man, and we sent it by fax, carefully filled.

2. Within 2 weeks - send mail to Rome request for a residence permit.

I learned about it by accident 3 weeks after arrival. Here's a dolt I am.
But the delay with the police gave me hope.
At the post office, I was given a huge envelope with papers. Fill the black pen. Attach then, behold, the fifth to tenth.
A couple of hours accurate filling with protruding tip of the tongue, and ready to work.
At the post office that day - a lot of people (days before Christmas, parcels, gifts) and any negative emotions. Electronic coupons, chairs, lovely conversation (all the talk all while waiting). We had a couple of questions on how to fill, and she graciously filled all by herself. It turned out that the residence permit can only pay in cash, and I have a card :(
No man, waiting while I run to the ATM in the next street, not even expressed dissatisfaction with the facial muscles. All cheered and Nezlobnaya joked.
And now, the documents are ready, I get a receipt with the date of a meeting with an officer of the migration service.

3. On the appointed day and hour to appear on a date to the migration service with the necessary documents.

Appointed time - 11.37.
Customize your leisurely households, deep down knowing that there are hardly working the minute phenomenon. And a little afraid of what I will be denied a residence permit for the delay in 8 days.
And I will not say that all this was not paid any attention.
Migration office in the port city - defiant collection of immigrants from the south, with difficulty speaking in Italian. As English. That still work. They have an ongoing problem with the documents, the solid fiction and delay. And so they are very noisy.
Perhaps this is why, seeing my intelligent north face, with my documents folder, returning from Rome, imperceptibly shifted up and called me after 5 minutes.
Fingerprints, photos, referral to other services, do not know how to translate the name. There with me again and took their fingerprints all possible, eye color, hair, height, etc., etc., etc.
Wait for SMS.
Best we've been waiting for over a month (then explained to me that it is the policy of Italy - as long as possible to make out a work permit in order to give me less likely to lead delicious workstation from under some Italian nose).
After 6 weeks I am to pick up the residence permit. 10 minutes, one painting, 15 officer's smiles.

Mission complete.


Not so devil as he is painted.
Probably me, a man who believes in fun and people were just lucky.
So I questioned my friend from Russia, and she assured me that it was all absolutely identical :)

By the way, if anyone have to move here and have any questions (or the desire to move) - Write suddenly help.
DARPA
 
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