As an American expat in need of residency in Italy, I was forced to subject myself to the torture of waiting in line at the questura in Perugia, to apply for my Permesso di Soggiorno.

Before I embarked on this journey, I had to take along many documents for the first application:

A 'long stay Visa' was necessary and had to be obtained at the Italian consulate in Boston, where I was a resident. In order to obtain that, I had to show them plane tickets; some sort contract for the rental of an apartment or deed of ownership for a house in Italy; proof of health insurance; proof of income in the US.

In addition to these, at the Questura in Perugia, more documents were required:- proof of an Italian bank account, codice di fiscale, copies of passport, marriage license if applicable, and four passport size photos.

I was advised to be there at 6 a.m. if I were to get beyond the gate, to obtain a ticket to gain entrance by 9 a.m. Being a cautious person, I was there long before the sun came up and took my rightful place in line behind many other foreigners. Had they camped out all night???

While in the cold chill and darkness of the morning, I watched many more arrivals lining up behind me. At times, some worked their way to the front, maybe to talk with someone However, the crowd immediately would either move forward in a panic, thereby crushing me into those in front, or a verbal argument would begin, forcing the perpetrator back to his or her space.

Finally, at 0830, a uniformed police woman appeared followed by another rush forward ,crushing me again, until she began to scream at everyone. I had no idea what she was saying but it reminded me of a teacher yelling at the class in school. All moved back and waited hungrily for her to hand out the numbered tickets we would need for processing our visa applications.

We filed in quietly, fearful that she would close the gate and revoke our tickets. After a few hours of waiting for my number to come up, I sat on the sidewalk edge to rest my legs. After all, I had been up since four thirty in the morning and standing in line for at least 5 hours. In minutes, a uniformed man came upon me with a large gun under his arm, telling me to stand up - it was not allowed to sit on the pavement. Seeing his stern face, I immediately and reluctantly stood up.

By noon, my number was called and I submitted my paperwork, only to be directed to another room for fingerprinting. I entered this small room, my fingers, hands and wrists were smeared with heavy black ink, fingerprints taken and told to leave. There wasn’t a paper towel in sight, only a bucket of thick paste, which I assumed was soap??? There was no chance of getting beyond this without leaving a trail of handprints until I had someone search in my purse for some tissues to rescue me.

After 2 months, I returned to the questura, to retrieve my coveted Permesso di Soggiorno (resident's visa - the PDS is very specific to anyone who wants residency in Italy, and is also needed to buy and insure a car.) Two years later, I had to renew it and this time I actually paid a friend to stand in line in the wee hours, to get my ticket and then to call meat the appropriate time! The good news was that I was number 7 so I was taken shortly after arriving. The bad news was that it took over a year for the renewal to be processed. Since I didn’t need to show this anywhere, it didn’t bother me. I had my Carte d’ Identita (proof of residence card) for another 5 years, so I didn’t care how long it took them.

The most recent renewal was fantastically organized…I thought. I went to the post office, filled in the forms and submitted the application with documents, photos etc., all by mail. How organized they had become! After many, many months of no word, I finally got a notice a year later, giving me an appointment 8 months hence. I happened to be away on the day of this appointment and now must appear at the questura to see if they will release my Permesso. My belief has always been, it is better to beg for forgiveness than ask permission!

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