7 am - My alarm goes off and I climb into the shower (yes, I have to climb or hop into the shower...don't ask.)
7.45 am - out the door and ready to wait in line at the Questura (Immigration Office)
8.15 am - get number B029.
I find a seat and then start to add things to my "to-do" list. After adding to it, I think about maybe working on some things, but then realize that I didn't have any of the things I needed to work on. Oops...
8.43 am - I sit and listen to the bell ring. Up goes B003.
At this point there is no doubt that it's going to be a while before I can head home. I start to think about my parents. I miss them. Then, for some reason I get a flashback to when I was about 7 or 8 years old and how I would occasionally take the Metrolink (train from Riverside to Los Angeles) to wait in line at the immigration office. It was no ordinary line - this line would wrap around the building. I remember seeing the cars go buy in the Downtown LA boulevard. If it was hot, my mom would find my sister and I shade and carry frozen water bottles. Once inside the building, I recall my mom's relief once the documents were turned in. My mom would always ask for an update on her "file/case" - and every time, it would sadden her to hear: "another 6 to 12 months". I learned to not ask her what they had said to her because I knew it broke her heart to explain why we always had to come back and forth from Riverside to LA. She would always tell us to not worry and that everything would work out.
I found myself in Italy, waiting for my "permesso di soggiorno" (residency permit), and going through the same process my parents had to endure. I know I've complained about how long the process has been here in Italy, but it's nothing compared to the years my parents had to wait. I think my mom had to wait for about 12 years before she could get her residency.
8.51 am - B004.
I remember thing about how it could be easier to just be "illegal" in Italy and I'm sure my parents thought the same thing while waiting in the U.S. - power and praise to them for waiting it out! It only took years for them to get settled "legally". In the end, their will to do everything legally and correctly earned them their American title. Yes - I'm sure they think it is all worth it now, but I have no idea how they didn't give up. I hope to one day have that much determination!!!
8.59 am - B007.
Anyways, I'm just writing/blabbering and scribbling away on this piece of scrap paper, but here's a suggestion - immigration reform? Our world is "smaller" and the displacement of people is inevitable. Why not legalize and help out those who help us or contribute in some way? Don't tell me that all the jobs will be taken and all benefits will go to them. I hope and wish that everything would be based on merit (Although, I agree that not everyone has the same chances or opportunities).
Seems like I'm getting myself into a "sticky" situation, but I love the fact that my thoughts led to this. I have nothing else to do but watch my thoughts be spit out by this black ink.
...I'll type this up later. And, excuse the randomness.
I'll blame the coffee on an empty stomach - sound like a good excuse?
9.06 am - B008.
11.15 am - B029...."I'm sorry but they gave you the wrong number. Take this letter to the front, get another number and come back around 2 or 3 pm"....
I love Italy.
