Steve Smulders
Where were we and what was the next step? Because of all the confusion about the taxation we had lost track. To recap: the appraiser now really had all the documents he had asked for, even the DIA we believe was unnecessary from the work from 14 years ago. That is why he would now finally be able to send his report to the bank, which would finally let us know if and how many euros we could borrow to build our new house.
Can, can, can. But did something really happen? Roberto had asked the bank manager to let him know as soon as he had received the valuation report, but when we hadn't heard from the manager a week after we sent the last documents to the valuer, the doubt set in again. After all the previous complications, we trusted (almost) no one anymore.
Did the appraiser fail? Or was it the bank manager? Where was our valuation report? How did we find out what was going on? Was there anything going on at all? Call the bank manager again? But it was difficult to reach and seemed a bit displeased about our urge to act last time, so we'd rather not. Imagine if he changed his mind and we could whistle at the mortgage!
Call the appraiser? Yes but how? He hadn't given us a business card when he visited, nor had his name stuck in our minds, unlike the casual way he inspected our beautiful villa. The attic? No, he didn't need to see it. Afraid that his fashionable clothes would get covered in dust and cobwebs, Roberto later concluded. 'The garden, oh that goes up there? Well, I'll look at the plot boundaries on Google Earth later.' Afraid of soiling his shoes, Roberto grumbled afterwards. No, the house seemed of minor importance in the valuation. It was mainly about… documents!
Fortunately, I suddenly remembered that the appraiser's office had actually called me spontaneously at the beginning of January (January? Was it really a month since our house was appraised?) to announce the arrival of the value expert. That number had to be in my phone and sure enough, after some research I had it. Take a deep breath… and call.
There was no recording. Not an hour later either. And the hours after that, still not. Just like the next day and the day after that. What was going on? An office where no one ever answered the phone, what was it like! Or were they all on vacation?
After much hesitation, I decided to leave a message 'after the beep', although I hate that: somehow what I say always sounds ridiculous to my ears. But luckily, nobody had to be annoyed by my fumbling, because apparently there was no one at the valuation office to listen to the voicemail because there was no response. How wonderfully peaceful and undisturbed these people had to be able to work! Or sleep?
In the meantime, we brooded on, biting our nails. Precious time was lost again and we were powerless again. Or…? No, not at all. Nico suddenly remembered that he had received a reply from the appraiser on the documents he had sent him in the distant, distant past (early January!). Let's see and yes, hooray, the mail contained no fewer than three phone numbers! The number I already had, of course, but also another number from the secretariat and… the mobile number of His Holiness the Valuer himself. Joechei, now it had to be possible to find out what was going on.
At first I just sent an email, assuming they couldn't ignore it. Then I tried the number of the secretariat: no answer. What about the appraiser himself? Surely he would record, how else could he work? Alas, dead as hell. No, not the appraiser but his phone. Turned off. Cursing and raving I kept trying, alternating between the secretariat and the appraiser, but no, nothing, nothing. Until suddenly… ringggg! Hey, that was that other phone number I've been trying to reach for a week to no avail.
The secretariat on the line. They had read my email. I was too stunned and relieved to ask why they never picked up this phone and why they hadn't listened to my voicemail but were now responding to the mail right away. No, I just wanted to know one thing:
WHAT ABOUT THAT F*CKING VALUATION REPORT?!
"Yes, sir, we can inform you that we have received all the documents and that we will integrate everything tomorrow, Saturday, so that it can be sent to our headquarters on Monday, Tuesday at the latest."
'Hey?' was all I could say and after the lady explained it to me again in a reassuring tone, I thanked kindly and hung up with a sigh. They went the documents integration, merge, even sacrificing their otherwise quiet Saturday. I really felt sorry for them… And then, very quickly, well, not immediately on Saturday (or Sunday, joker!) of course, but immediately on the next Monday – okay, maybe Tuesday – the integrated whole would thump on the designated desk.
From the head office of… the bank? No, silly, that of the appraisers. How long would it stay there? Well, of course they had no idea about that in the lower regions. The High floors, higher floors, deliberate as they see fit, mister.
The bank manager had not betrayed our trust, this time. He hadn't called us because there was nothing to call. Early next week our integrated file was (presumably) on a desk that was completely unreachable for us, to be assessed by a management employee who was completely unknown to us. We had now really lost our grip and could focus again on what we prefer NOT ALLOWED do: wait and see what will hopefully come.
To relax and to laugh at something that is not at all laughable, I kept sending Roberto whatsapps the following days, along the lines of:
'Did you hear that noise too?'
"What noise?"
'The noise they make at the integration of our documents.' Behind it an emoji of a scraper, bulldozer.
'ahahah'
"Do you hear those squeaky brakes too?"
'?'
'From the special mega transport with which our integrated file is transported to the bank branch.'
'Chissa quanto stanno sudando, poveri. Who knows how bad they are sweating, those poor people.'
After all the complications surrounding mortgage, valuation, fine payment and amnesty I am now ready for a sanatorium myself. But not in Italy. I will go to Switzerland, the country where according to the Italians everything is perfect, alla svizzera, is arranged. Security for everything.
🇮🇹Reading tip: Want to read more fun stories about life in Italy? You can find it in the three parts 'Italiaanse Status' by Stef Smulders, available at bol.com.
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