Goal is to post at least twice a week. Now that we're a little more into Everyday Life there's not as much interesting to tell, but the Italians do provide a wealth of stories for those of us not accustomed to dealing with idiosyncrasy on a daily basis!

***

I have a magic piece of paper. It is not THE magic piece of paper, the soggiorno, but for my purposes, the residenza is close enough. It allows me to register the girls for school. It allows me to buy, register and insure a car. It allows me to open a bank account. It allows me to go the Agenzia Sanitaria and register for National Health cards.

Maybe.

So the girls didn’t get visas because I was getting a study visa and they would just be basically accompanying me. Which was wrong and I’m suffering for it. But now it turns out that because I have a study visa, I have to show that I’m enrolled somewhere in school in order to get the Tessera Sanitaria to match my visa. And I can’t exactly do that. So now, having driven over hill and dale to get to Fornovo, where the Sanitaria office is, the nice man at the Sanitaria has to call all over the universe looking for a way to register me and the girls for our National Health cards. He said he would call back Friday if he found an answer immediately, but it might be Monday. (He didn’t call. I am hopeful of Monday. Given my experience with Italians and their timelines, however, I am not holding my breath. But I have to drive out there again at such time as he does. Oh well, I’m getting to see and drive a lot of the countryside, so at least I’m learning how to get around!)

Meanwhile, I bought a car! Honestly, I don’t know a thing about it except it’s big enough, it has a 12 month powertrain warranty and air conditioning, and I can afford it. These are the points we care about most. I test drove a Hyundai Getz (nice but VERY small, and as a carpool mamma for this year, I require one a scoche bigger to tote around 4 kids), a Mercedes Benz A-170 (didn’t know M-B made a small affordable 5 door hatchback, didja? Well, don’t worry about it, because it SUCKED), and the Opel Meriva. The 2 things I liked most about the Meriva just driving it were a) it was a good height for Mamma to get in and out (that being MY Mamma, who arrives Wednesday, not just me) and b) I didn’t actually notice driving it while I test drove it. The Hyundai had me on alert making sure I could find all the bits. The Mercedes was simply badly organized inside and I couldn’t reach anything. But I got into the Opel and just drove it. Things were under my hand where they were supposed to be. I didn’t need to adjust the steering wheel. The seat was comfortable and a good height. I signaled and turned off the radio and ran the windshield wipers and generally just drove and didn’t have to think. I have to think about a LOT when I’m driving these mountains – not having to think about the CAR appeals to me.

Andrea, our lovely used-car salesman, gave me an “assicurenza libretto” for the car, which was covered with mysterious numbers and Italian abbreviations. Could have been the alchemical formula for the philosopher’s stone for all I knew. Fortunately, when I called USAA to get insurance, the gal said, “Well, read me the first number.” (I learned a bunch of the military alphabet on this conversation). “Nope, that’s not it. Read the next one. Nope, that’s not it…” we read a lot of numbers. But finally we got one. And it turned out that two of the other numbers were also things she needed. So all good. The insurance on it is only about $40 a year more than for my Prius, so yay. I expected it to be a LOT more. But the car is an ’05, and biggish, and the Prius is an ’06 and small, and in America, so that may account for a lot. (The Getz had an MP3 port. The Opel does not. Elise is disappoint. But that was really ALL the Getz had going for it that was way better.)

But of course, nothing’s simple. Now I have to pay for it. Seems that under Italian law persons who buy cars with Visa cards are by definition Mafia or drug dealers, so I can’t use my lovely empty this-would-solve-my-problem-fast Visa card. I tried asking Visa for a cash advance, but my 12-year gorgeous payment history and stupidly high credit limit apparently are not sufficient guarantee that I will pay back their ridiculous 21% loan of 6000E in a timely manner. (I have all this in cash in my American bank account. I actually told the guy, “I will pay it back as soon as it posts, so, like, Monday. This is not a long term thing.” Sorry, no go.) I don’t have checks for my lovely new bank account yet, and the wire containing all my money for the year won’t arrive for 2 more weeks, so that’s no good. So what do I have to do? Go to Salso every day for the next 4, find the only bank machine in town that does NOT decide to cut me off after a 250E withdrawal, and take as much as it will let me (turns out, 1500E). It gives me the money in 20s and 50s. I’m going to have a BRIEFCASE full of cash when this is all over. It does kinda make me wonder, wouldn’t you RATHER that the drug dealers bought used cars with Visa cards? So much easier to trace than piles of unmarked, low denomination bills. (And fear not. I called my bank this afternoon to make sure they were okay with my taking the 1500 every day, and to let them know that yes, indeed, this is me making these stupid withdrawals so don’t freak out.)

I extended the rental of the Lancia till Tuesday (it was due back tomorrow). Happily, the main showroom of the company Andrea works for is at the other end of the block from the place I have to return the rental Tuesday morning, so he will bring the car into the main office, I will walk up from the rental place, sign the papers, hand over the briefcase, and drive him back to his shop, which is about 5 km out of my way home from Parma. All good!

Paper that hasn’t MESSED. WITH. ME. For a whole day. It’s a bad precedent, I think you’ll agree.