the quest

friday morning i wound up going to the questura anyhow because i found out that Megan was going. i knew that there weren't that many people who still hadn't gone, and i certainly didn't want to go alone. so i woke up for breakfast, and with my bandaged hand she, Elizabeth, and i walked over.

we got there at 9 00 and the guy at the little reception window just started yelling italian at us when we asked about the permesso di soggiorno. eventually he told us to go sign the list outside and wait there. we didn't even realize there was a list. what it turned out to be was a piece of scrap paper taped against the side of the building. there were two people on the list ahead of us, also waiting outside. we signed up and waited. and waited. 9 30 rolled around. some more centristi came by also looking to get their permessi. they waited about 20 mins and gave up. it was now 9 50. some more people had come and signed up. some people had given up and left. there was one guy wearing a white coat who seemed less patient than the rest. around 10 he went inside. we followed and waited in there. it was at least warmer

at 10 i already had to go to the bathroom from the huge cup of italian coffee i drank to get myself going at breakfast. i was ready to bail out at 10 15. Megan says, "no, let's wait until 10 30." at 10 23 i was about to bail again. she made me wait the 7 minutes. the clock struck 10 30 and we began to leave. some girl who was in the lobby with us (who looked completely unaffiliated with the police dept.) came running out past us, went to the side of the building and snatched the infamous list. she went inside, so we turned around and followed her back. she gave it to an officer who looked like he expected her to give it to him, and he read off our names. we went upstairs to the ufficio di stranieri.

at this point, i still had to pee, and it looked like we were going to wait a little longer before it was our turn. i knew there was at least a place with a sink to wash off the fingerprint ink, so i searched the floor for a toilet. i found the room with the sink, and at its rear was a door with a sign that said "VIETATO ENTRARE. DANGER!" forget the danger, there were urinals in there. i realized that the danger was an open window to the elevator shaft. i made a quick glance around, closed the door, and decided if anyone questioned i'd say it was an emergency.

back in the ufficio, we got served pretty promptly. the first part was them taking our forms and doing a bunch of collating and having us sign a couple times. then came the fingerprinting. not just fingerprinting, but whole handprinting. i knew this was coming and was worried what they'd say about my bandages (see the i fell on my face post). the lady taking care of us said i had to take them off. they were already falling off a bit so i pulled one back to show her the oozing scab underneath. she made a grimace and called over the other lady. they debated for about 5 minutes what to do with me. i could follow most of the conversation, and one of their options was to have me come back and do the printing later. at this point i said to myself "for the love of God, i've been here 2 and a half hours do NOT make me come back." in the end they just decided to write that my hand was injured in place of doing the palmprint. i got my fingers and left palm done, washed off with the gritty pink anti-ink goop, and we headed out. after three hours, we were all legal. about time.