Islands in the stream - Italian bureaucracy

October 4, 2006 · Filed Under Italy, My son · Comment

Somewhere out on the WWW I read about an Italian guy who had had a child, but wanted to avoid getting involved in all the bureaucracy which follows. I can relate to his feelings.

Italian bureaucracy seems to operate on an Islands in the stream principle, meaning that the only way for one island to know what is happening on another is for one of the islands residents to hop on a boat and go and tell someone, otherwise the twain shall never meet.

This is what I had to do after our son was born:

Sign a document in which I ‘recognised’ or rather acknowledged that the child was actually mine - this is optional, although I’m not sure what the consequences of not acknowledging my son’s existence would have been.

Next, I had to wander over to the tax offices to get hold of the famous, if you are Italian, codice fiscale, if you are English this is something like the national insurance number. This took two mornings because I arrived too late one day, which was when I discovered that the offices only opened to the public in the mornings. The queues were horrendous.

Having finally got the magic number, I could then enroll my son in the health system and choose a baby doctor close to our house. This again took the best part of an afternoon.

You would think some bright spark, not of island mentality would think up a way of automating this straight forward process, I mean, we have things like computers and networks now, or so I believe. No, I’m not talking about 20 years ago, but only 3 and a half years ago.

The island on which the hospital is located is unable to communicate with the tax authorities island and neither of them are able to contact the island upon which the health service is located.

Surely, you would think that a sort of ‘chain reaction’ would take place, all automatically triggered by the ‘acknowledgement’ of a new birth. The hospital would advise the tax people, who would tell the health people and you would receive a nice little letter with the newborn’s codice fiscale, health system enrollment and, even, a list of baby docs, with vacancies, near to where you reside. It would be so simple, so efficient, but so un-Italian.

As I have written on countless occasions, Italy is synonymous with complexity, most of it needless. One day I guess things may change, but nothing will happen in any logical order, after all, that would be too simple for this complex country. I still love it though.

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Tags: Italian, Italy

Accosted, once more!

October 4, 2006 · Filed Under Italy, Me, Milan · Comment

This time I was accosted by a not unattractive young lady who said, ‘paper’, saw my confusion and motioned her hands around her nose and repeated once more ‘paper’. After a few moments of blankness I got what she was after and rummaged around in my briefcase for a packet of paper tissues. I could only find one tissue and I’m not that sure whether it was ‘virgin’, if you know what I mean. Ooh er. Anyway the young lady gratefully accepted the ‘paper’ and thanked me. Her blond big lipped female companion said ‘Have a nice evening’ in what seemed to be very good English.

I think the girl and her friend were Russians, but I’m not sure.

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A night and a half out. Sob sob.

October 4, 2006 · Filed Under Italy, Milan · Comment

The guy who works with me and myself we invited out by a group of our students the other day and we ended up in Bar Magenta, a place I used to hang out in quite a lot in the past. Bar Magenta is near the Cadorna station in Corso Magenta and has gone through a few transitions while I’ve been in Milan. Not that it has ever been re-decorated, it’s just that those who go to the place vary quite a lot. When I first went there it was full of people around my age - 30 something at the time, then I remember returning one year to find that it had been overrun by young 20 somethings. Now, it seems to be back in the hands of the 30 something crowd. I suppose the crowd you see in there may depend on which evening you find yourself there. It’s not a bad joint if you are youngish and happening, but now I’m oldish and happened, I find the music too loud to make good conversation. Pass my zimmer frame.

After our students had headed off I decided to wander off with Noel, that’s the guy who I work with, to another place for a chat and some more jars. We end up in a small newish pub in Brera. This place was fine for two oldies like ourselves and the beer was OK too, although I cannot remember the name of the stuff. What I do remember was not believing the bill at the end of the evening - it was a fraction of what I was expecting. I actually checked to make sure we had paid before leaving and mien host told us that Tuesdays and Thursdays were happy evenings and beer only cost 3 Euros a pint. I shall be back! Most probably on either a Tuesday or a Thursday. Cheapskate, that I am. The other thing I remember was ordering a grappa to round off the evening. This grappa was poured into a biggish tumbler, no skimpy whisky glass this , and the barman filled the thing half full. Gordon Bennet! I nearly fell over after downing that quantity of the water like firewater. Sorry, but I can’t remember the name of the place, and the photo I took of the bar’s sign did not come out well enough for me, or anyone, to read, alas.

It was a good night out and even though I felt a little the worse for wear the next day, I would do it more often, but being a family chap, and all that, I can’t get out as much as I’d like to. Sob sob.

A little later on in the same week, the other half and I had an ‘ape’ (that’s ‘arpay’ or aperitif - not a monkey) in a rather trendy spot called, unoriginally, Milan, which is up the road from us in Via Proccacini. It’s not a bad spot and offers free wi-fi. (If I had known I would have taken my wi-fi armed pocket pc) The only thing which got to me, after the prices, was the silly system for serving all the tidbits liberally spread around the central circular bar area. You were only allowed to pile things on a tiny weeny little paper napkin, which meant that you lost bits and pieces while you wandered back to your seat. A shame because the grub was good. Still it was quite a cool joint - the area round us is full of cool joints, we would be spoiled for choice if we could find enough time to do the rounds. Having kiddywink has put rather a stop to all that. Cue: more sobs.

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