This Is Italy
In 2008, Stef Smulders emigrated with husband and dog to sunny Italy to start Bed & Breakfast Villa I Due Padroni. But before they could receive the first guests, many hurdles had to be overcome. These hurdles can be found in the form of about sixty humorous short stories in the book Italian situations, life & survival in Italy.
Emigrating to Italy, who has secretly or not even dreamed about it? Judging by the popularity of programs like I leave en The Italian Dream are there many. But actually doing it is another matter.
Letting go of all certainties, leaving behind family and friends and immersing yourself in a completely different environment, with different rules and customs and a different language. Smulders' book provides a funny account of the adventures of two Dutch people who took the plunge into the unknown.
The purchase of a house with a fickle real estate agent, its renovation with a stubborn contractor, but also fun and educational encounters with special Italians.
Today we are posting a pre-publication of one of those stories on This is Italy. We will publish another story by Smulders at a later stage.
So no finiti i soldi!
With our long Northern European bodies, we towered over the gray faces of the elderly Italians. We stood in line at the counter of the Pavia post office. Well, in line… There were several rows that twisted together like spaghetti strands. It didn't matter to us, we were in no rush, after all we had been working on a checking account, to open an account with BancoPosta, the Italian Postal Bank.
We wanted an account, with bank cards and especially with Cheques, checks, which are urgently needed if you want to buy a house in Italy. When purchasing a house, all kinds of advance payments are required, which go directly from buyer to seller, without the intervention of the notary, because he does not do a deposit here. And those down payments involve considerable amounts, up to twenty percent of the purchase price, which you would rather not carry with you in cash. We didn't, at least, but the frail old people in line in front of us seemed to have less of a problem with that, because whole bundles of fifty euro notes were paid for them. Apparently they weren't afraid that they would be immediately clubbed outside the post office to be robbed of their pension, even though the provincial newspaper was full of reports of robberies and burglaries.
It was the first of the month and then it was the payout day of the pensions. Hence the long lines at the post office. Pavia was in fact a city of the elderly and students. The elderly found relative peace and all (health) facilities and the students naturally found the university and colleges there. There were also many secondary schools in Pavia, hidden in the courtyards, so that on Friday afternoon you could be surprised by the large hordes of students who, like rats from Hamelin, went to the station, on their way to a weekend at home.
We hadn't thought about that pension payment for a while, but we now had little choice, we really needed that account by now, after all our previous unsuccessful attempts to get it. Our odyssey towards the checking account started a few days ago at the BancoPosta neighborhood branch near our apartment in Via Moruzzi. There it soon became clear that opening an account was only possible at the main post office. That was actually located in a large monumental building in the center of Pavia, but due to a major renovation, all counter services were now temporarily housed in a portacabin, outside on the square in front of the office. Space was tight, and the many elderly people waiting for their pensions, along with people like us who came for other postal services, created the spaghetti-like queues for the few available counters.
We first checked whether we had to be here before we waited in the long line. Yes, we came to the right place, but to apply for a bill you had to be in the back, in the chief clerk's room. There turned out to be a Maria, who was willing and willing to help us with all the forms. Wait a few days and then we could pick up our passes, just like a booklet with Cheques, and also we would be able to withdraw money right away, if we had transferred money to the brand new account in the meantime. And we had.
Now it was time, the hour U, D-day! Our attempt to avoid the queues again and go directly to our Maria van de Poste was unfortunately prevented this time by a formidable postal worker, who guarded the entrance to the Holy of Holies. Apparently others had also discovered the shortcut and it was overused. We couldn't escape the spaghetti strands. But we were patient, our heavenly kingdom was at hand…
As we watched the line in front of us slowly shrink and the ticket counter approaching temptingly close, panic erupted behind the counter. Someone started shouting, “Sono finiti i soldi! There is no more money!" Then there was murmuring and protest in the elderly ranks. The postal workers made it clear that there was really no cash left. Some pensioners were already disappointed, others were still discussing. But where there is nothing, the retired emperor also loses his right. We got our turn surprisingly quickly. We got the cards and the checks, but for cash we had to come back in a few days, when there was money again…
Italian conditions
by: Stef Smulders
Price: € 19,95
Self-published, March 2014
Comments