One out of three Italian policemen would vote for John McCain

People who work in Italy have to have, among other things, a codice fiscale.  It's similar to a social security number.  Employers need to register it, but you also need it for lots of other things: setting up a bank account, setting up a telephone line, buying a house, etc.  

The school where we work needs a codice fiscale from each of us.  Now, you can go online and get a fake one, sort of.  It calculates what your CF will probably be, as there is a formula to put it together.  But to do official stuff, they need to see your CF ID card.  You probably remember from reading Kim's post that she's had some major internet difficulties.  Ultimately, she learned that she can buy a wireless key to plug into the USB drive and have wireless internet wherever there's a cell phone signal.  Great!  But, the store won't sell it to her without a CF card.  

Yesterday morning we got up early.  We took the bus to the center of town and found the Ufficio delle Entrata, where they issue the CFs.  It takes us a little while to find it b/c they're doing construction ON the building, but we get in.  Wrong ufficio.  There are 5 or 6 branches, and this one doesn't issue CFs.  

OK - so this nice gentleman who speaks decent English tells us about how he was in Washington, DC, and a random woman there spoke Italian and helped him find his way around.  (Thank you, random woman!)  So he was eager to return the favor to an American, especially two from DC.  He sends us over to the right office.  (Sure, we went the wrong way a couple of times, but I will say that at least one local sent us in the absolutely wrong direction.)

We're at the right office!  We use our dictionaries to fill out the paperwork.  We have our passports.  We wait for our number to be called.  They're very nice.  But ultimately we're told, "No, is impossible."  Drat.  There's a lot of red tape here, and we don't cut the mustard at this office.  They send us to the police station, where maybe they can issue us a temporary CF or something.

So we go.  The guards at the front start debating with us about Obama vs. McCain.  (Sidebar - most Italians like Obama.  They think he'll be a great diplomat and international communicator.  Only one person so far has disagreed: one of these cops.  But they all have a pleasant demeanor about the whole thing.)  A translator takes us into a back office where we explain our problem.  They say ok - first, you need to go downstairs to declare yourselves.  The best way is to go outside, around to the right . . . of course we get lost again.  

After finally finding the right room, they give us new paperwork so we can formally declare our presence to the Italian government.  To do so, we're supposed to - on our own, outside of the police station - make copies of every page in our passport, and bring them back with the other paperwork.  Then wait in line and .... seek their approval?

"What about our codice fiscales?"  

"What?  No, you can't get that here."

"We tried the ufficio delle entrata, and they told us that maybe here...."

"No, is impossible."

Yup.

When we came back to the school and explained to our boss that we couldn't get the CFs, she said, "Oh - well, some offices won't give them out without being sticklers, but other offices don't care.  You just have to try another office.  No big deal, though.  I can just take the one you got online."

Yup.

Knowing what I knew ahead of time, I was easily able to laugh at the situation.  Italy: country of the red tape.  Welcome Annie & Kim!