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Since I last wrote: the "tir" with all our stuff arrived; we hosted a Thankgiving dinner, resurrecting an ancient wood oven to cook the turkey; we spent Christmas in Rome; went to get our cars from Naples in early January; most recently we weathered a big snowstorm; also more news about Giovanni's company.
"tir"
After many anxious phone calls, the date was finally established for the arrival of the container truck from Naples. There's a narrow unpaved road leading to the house, and the truck had to make a lot of maneuvers in order to manage the curves. At a certain point, they didn't seem to be getting anywhere; Giovanni went to check and got an earful from the neighbor (an old farmer who lives at the top of the road) who was screaming that the truck was going to damage his tree, his road, his fence...!! They were blocking the way and he had to get to work!! He was going to call the 'carabinieri' (the police) and 'sporgere una denucia' (make a formal complaint)!!! Betweeen the Neapolitan truck drivers and the Tuscan farmer, there were a lot of words flying back and forth in dialect that even Giovanni couldn't always figure out.. It took some negotiating to get the guy to calm down and show him that nothing was going to get damaged (and in fact, nothing was..) but it wasn't a great way to get to know the neighbors, and the truckers had just about had it.
The truckers finally got into our yard and started unloading. Everything went pretty well, thanks especially to one gentleman who was able to haul our marble table top up the stairs on his shoulder all by himself (we had trouble moving it with 2 people). You know the brother on "Everybody Loves Raymond"? It's that guy!! Of course, we had no idea where to put 90% of the stuff we had brought (the house came semi-furnished) and so we ended up having them fill up the whole basement (which is really the ground floor) with the 490-something items in the container. We let them get off without unpacking as we really had no idea where everything needed to go.
Towards the end of the day, they started their maneuvers to leave and found that... the tractor-trailer was STUCK. They couldn't get out!! There's plenty of space in the yard, but it had rained the day before and the wheels kept slipping on the wet grass. After many attempts, we were forced to call the landlady and ask for help. Fortunately, she has a lot of land that she cultivates and so she sent over one of her big agricultrual tractors to pull out the Tir. Even so, there were many tense moments, as the tractor was trying to pull sideways and the whole thing wasn't quite working. Everyone's tempers were frayed (unbeknownst to me; I was inside making a batch of coffee). When I brought a big tray of coffee things out to the yard, everyone broke out in big smiles, the tension was broken, they slurped down the coffee, the tractor guy hopped in to make one last effort, and the truck got pulled out at last!
Then, for a couple of weeks we didn't do much but unwrap furniture and boxes and try to organize and pull out the necessary items as much as possible.
Thanksgiving
As usual, when I've been in Italy I still try to organize a kind of Thanksgiving. This time we decided to try and press into service an ancient wood oven that is in the entryway. At one time, the entryway was an open loggia on the second floor--a pretty classic set-up, but it has since been closed in. Of course, I had to buy a book about wood ovens to work up the courage to actually light a fire inside the thing. Thinking that (with wood-frame houses) it's dangerous to use a fireplace if the chimney may have cracks allowing the heat to set fire to the structure, I kept asking everyone I met whether I should be worried about this, and, in good Italian fashion, they assured me that everything would be fine!
After several phone calls, we found someone willing to deliver us some wood. City folks we, we had no way of knowing that November is not the wood season; everyone lays in their wood in the summer, when it has a chance to dry before the winter. The wood guy arrived with his little "ape" (bee), the mini-truck that is actually more like a moto-tricycle with a cab contructed over it. It was raining hard, and he unceremoniously dumped 9 'quintali' (900 kilos - 9/10 of a ton) of wood into the mud puddles in front of the house. It took Giovanni and me the whole morning in the rain to collect and stack the wood: half upstairs under the oven and half outside in a covered alcove.
Now all we needed were the tools; the oven is about five feet in diameter, and we needed a brush to sweep out (before) the dust and decaying mortar and (after) the ashes. We also needed a long-handled shovel, and some kind of poker. There's no place in the Yellow Pages to call for such things! We tried several hardware stores, and even asked people at the pizza place (they had theirs made to order). Completely by chance, we happened to be at a "fair"--one of those open-air markets where there are a lot of stands selling vegetables, food, clothing, etc. and strangely enough, there was a booth with a guy selling oven tools and big rectangular steel pans!! Yay! They barely fit in the car, but we got them home and couldn't wait to try them out
In the wood-oven book, it recommended lighting a fire also the day before you want to cook, if the oven hasn't been used in a while. I got nervous and wanted to see if it would work (so I could have a plan 'B'; you don't want to have a dozen people come to your house to eat raw turkey!). We lit the fire 2 days before.
Though I had tried to warm the chimney with some burning paper, it didn't draw at all! For about an hour, dense smoke kept pouring out of the oven! We opened the windows; we then opened the door. Smoke was billowing out of the open door and window, to the point that we were worried someone would call the fire department. All of a sudden, the room started to clear and the chimney actually started to draw. I had an oven thermometer inside so I could monitor the progress: with a big armful of wood, the temperature on ly got up to about 300 before the fire started to die... hmmm
The second day, we tried again; this time it started drawing straightaway and was faster at getting up tp temperature; this time it reached a peak of 400, so I thought, maybe, just maybe, this will work... I threw in the cakes I had planned, but in less than 5 minutes, they were burned to a crisp on top!! Yikes! Obviously the thermometer is not to be trusted! Since it sits on the oven floor, and while the fire is burning the oven door has to be open (the chimney draws the smoke from just outside), with the cold air coming in, the temperature at floor level may be 350, but one inch higher, it may be 400, two inches higher, 500, and so forth (?) Discouraged, I finished the cakes in the regular oven.
We picked up the turkey we had ordered and set the alarm for 5:00am; the oven takes several hours to heat up. At 9:00am I put in the turkey and crossed my fingers. Within 5 minutes, it, too, started to scorch on the outside. I threw on a tent of foil and prayed...
It was the Best Turkey I Ever Ate!! It came out fantastic!! The only hitch was that the oven cooled off too fast, so that an hour before the turkey was done, when I went to put in the potatoes and other vegetables I wanted to cook, the temperature was, by then, too low, and they went nowhere--I had to finsh them off on top of the stove, in the oven, in any way I could (the regular oven here is tiny, and I had hoped to be able to exploit the huge wood oven to cook everything).
The general chaos notwithstanding, everyone ate.
Christmas in Rome
Giovanni's sister Lucia is a high-school science teacher and belongs to a school chorus that had been preparing for a Christmas concert; their piece is to be the "Gloria" of Vivaldi. They need basses desperately; could Giovanni study the part and fill in? (He is really a tenor!) Dutifully, he begins to study the part for a day or two. Then, the call comes: they are probably OK for basses, but could he instead study the tenor part (a lot more difficult). For a few weeks he studys the part, this time really putting his all into it. You know where this is going: the evening of the concert, they tell him he has to sing the bass part! Anyway, the church was freezing, the public was forgiving, Lucia had a severe cold and wheezed through as best she could... which is to say, everything worked out in the end. The concert was held in the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore which is near the train station, outside Piazza della Reppublica (Piazza Esedra) in the center of Rome. I tried to get some pictures, but the digital camera is pretty slow; it doesn't do a great job at night.
Cars from Naples
We dropped off our cars in Boston Oct.9. In the intervening months we had numerous false indications of their likely arrival. Finally someone gave us the date of Dec.18-20. We called on the 18th and were told that it was unlikely that the cars would clear customs before Christmas, so, no worries, pick them up afterward... For some reason, Giovanni decided to call again on the 24th (4:00pm on Christmas Eve) and the company says "oh yeah, the cars are here.. they're having problems with the customs documents, and, by the way, you are racking up a lot of parking fees.." WHAT?!?!? What problems? Of course, the idea that they would call us--obviously out of the question. No, instead we have to find out almost by chance that there is something wrong! Turns out that somehow the list of items approved by the Italian Consulate in Boston has the VIN number of the car wrong (one digit is different)! They can't clear the car through customs!
We call the Italian Dogane (customs) and ask what we have to do. They need a official revision (fax, but also send a hard copy). Not really understanding whether the Customs folks will be gracious enough to act on a fax, or idiotic enough to insist on waiting for the hard copy, we desperately call the Consulate. Luckily, on Christmas Eve someone is there who promises to "try" and send the necessary fax. We spend the holiday stewing.
Friday, we call to check in. The fax has been received and everyone is happy. Come pick up the cars on Monday. Monday, we take an early train to Naples; it only takes 3 or 4 requests to the lounging bus drivers and dispatchers to find the correct bus to take us to the shipping office. Once at the shipping office (we are kindly told at the entrance that the elevator is free-of-charge), we pay almost $200 of unjust parking fees (imposed by the Dogane/Customs --according to them it's not their fault the number was incorrect; hard to imagine that the Consulate in the US will pick up the tab).
With our import documents we then go to the "Ufficio Centrale Italiano" (the Central Italian Office!), a little-known agency (it took us a month to find out about it, after various calls to different insurance agencies and the Motorizzazione.. no-one know it existed but a last-ditch e-mail to the Italian version of AAA gave us the precious indications we needed) that extends insurance to cars imported from the States (as a "courtesy") and fork out a few hundred Euros--cash only!-- for 45 days' worth of temporary insurance (still paying our US insurance, since we need to keep our US plates until we are squared away here). Then we take a taxi to the warehouse..
Can you say "a kilometer going the wrong way down a one-way street"?
Continuing happily along at 20-25 mph, every so often the driver was able to find a driveway or some such to pull over and let the oncoming traffic pass, but... the last couple of hundred yards there was not this luxury, so , with much slow going and much folding-in of mirrors, and only a few imprecations, we squeezed down the street.
Our cars!! We see them! Hurray! We wait around a bit and the warehouse guy brings us the paperwork. Thank God that we looked at it before driving off! The customs documents list my car, white Saab, 1993, VIN# etc., etc... but with the wrong license plate number. Giovanni's car documents list his correct license plate number; problem is, they also list: white, Saab, 1993, and they even manage to put the Saab's exact same VIN number! That is to say, they have miraculously imported 2 identical cars!!!
The Warehouse Guy calls the Customs Guy and says "drop whatever you are doing and get down here." Disgruntled Customs Guy, who is obviously cutting short his lunch hour without a trace of good will, finally shows up after about 45 minutes, and looks things over, making several heated phone calls, gesturing,and muttering "che bu'dello" or rather "what a bordello", i.e., "what a mess!"
We now have to wait for them to re-do the customs documents; we should follow him to the port. (You can imagine how I feel about driving by myself in Naples, after not having driven for months, and especially after our recent taxi experience!) We have no gas in the cars (a requirement for shipping them) so Customs Guy leads us down a series of industrial roads and on/off ramps to a gas station where a few guys are standing around. "There's no gas" they tell us. "The power is out." I never know what to make of these things--whether there's just an improvised strike or not...
Fortunately nearby is another gas station: only $75 to fill the tank (each) and we are on our way to the port. Since it's a secure zone, we are forced to wait on the side of the nasty highway, with tons of huge trucks barreling back and forth, for another 45 minutes until Customs Guy returns. Rather than re-doing the documents, they have just hand-written in the correct info, with a healthy larding of stamps and seals and signatures. We can only hope that the Motorizzazione accepts these things!
We are relieved to leave Naples behind us and motor north without incident. We call the Motorizazzione in Siena and find that we have to go in person to pick up the necessary forms to fill out. The hours are Tuesday & Thursday for 3:00pm to 4:00pm. The next Tuesday we drive an hour-and-a-half to the Motorizzazione. Though the 'sportello' (window) says 'targhe' (plates), we are told that, in fact, we must go to an office in another building. We sit down with the 'geometra' to go over our documents.
He is on the verge of rejecting the 'Apostille' versions of our photocopied titles and registrations. [The Italian government wants a special "Apostille" (notarization) of the original of every foreign document. The State of Mass. will issue an "Apostille" version of a birth certificate, for example, but would not "Apostille" the registration or car title they themselves issue. The "Apostille" is, as far as they are concerned, a Super Confirmation of a notarized document. Since the car title isn't that type of document, they won't "Apostille" it. The only thing they WOULD "Apostille," ridiculously enough, was the PHOTOCOPY of the registration I had taken to the bank and, after signing, had had notarized. "This is a photocopy of my registration. Signed, Cynthia E. Quilici... Witnessed.. Seal.. Commision Expires.. etc., Signed, Notary Guy.(!!)]. After explaining our difficulties and allowing him to pore over and make sure the copy and the original are identical, he is mollified. He does give us a lot of harumphing over the seatbelts that may need to be changed, the windshields that may need to be replaced... if they don't explicitly meet the EU regulations. They could well conform or even be superior but in absence of a particular code or symbol the bureaucrats enjoy digging in their heels.
We made sure before we left to have a 'scheda tecnica' for each car. This is a document emitted by the manufacturer that lists particular details of the car's production that the EU wonks like to have, like the Kilowatts of the engine, a special code number for the catalytic converter, etc. Saab sent me mine for free, and everything checked out OK. Honda Italy (Honda USA didn't even know what the hell we were talking about) said yes, they could send us these technical specs, but we would have to pay 130 euros. For this 130 euros, they managed to leave out 2 or 3 essential things that Motorizzazione Guy wanted: the 'maximum velocity' of the car, and the special catalytic converter code number! He doesn't know if he can complete the 'pratica' without this.
At any rate, forms in hand, we ask whether we can fill them out and pay on the spot. NO! Because there are three different 'versamenti' that have to be paid (like a money order) via the Post Office. The Post Office closes at 2:00 (while his office is open from 3:00 to 4:00, remember); it's impossible to complete this transaction in a single day. I ask whether, once we have filled out the forms and gotten the payment receipts, we could send them to him in the mail. He looks stricken! "No, Signora, you have to submit them in person!" Luckily, in the meantime, someone indicates that I could write a letter 'delegating' Giovanni to act on my behalf, so only one of us has to make the second three-hour round trip to Siena. Once there, the 'antipatica' lady at the counter, first of all, doesn't want to accept the 'delega', but is convinced after talking to someone else that it's OK; then she finds a signature of mine missing on one of the forms... "Alt!" After going to another office and talking to another boss, they work out that Giovanni can also sign for me, since he has the 'delega'. The obstructionist lady is defeated!
Another round trip is scheduled for the inspection, now with both of us driving up. The Motorizzazione Lady gives us terrible directions (the inspection site is about 7km away, in "Casetta"). We get on the tangenziale and drive and drive..10-15km. We stop at a gas station to ask directions, and are told that, from there, it's another10km). We keep driving and see nothing, so we pull over and try to call Motorizzazione Guy. He says we need to look for "Taverna d'Arbia". Driving back, we see a small exit marked 'Arbia' and decide to take it; it's a dirt road (no indication for "Casetta" OR for "Taverna d'Arbia" but all the same it turns out to be the right road. We're fantastically late for the appointment, but it seems to make no diference, and despite all the dire warnings of Motorizzzione Guy, the inspectors seem to be OK with our windshields and seatbelts. One interesting part of the inspection is that they have you put your front and back wheels onto some rollers, you put the car in neutral, and step on the brakes; it tests your brake efficiency! One more odd sign of an advanced mentality amidst the general backwardness...
We pass with flying colors --generally. Giovanni is strongly admonished for the fact that the rear reflectors are red, whereas they need be yellow by EU standards, and thus need to be changed as soon as possible. With the now-usual degree of paradoxicality, these same EU standards say you don't have to have such reflectors at all, but IF they are present, they HAVE to be yellow! Now we've to drive back to Siena to pick up the license plates (of course, waiting 3 hours now for the office to re-open after lunch). After eating lunch, we now have two hours to kill so we go to a zone with a lot of strip-mall-like stores.. Something must be open... (No, nothing is open, so we wander through the wet & chilly parking lots, window-shopping). At the end of the zone, we come upon a mini-Building-19 kind of place with the usual close-out ceramic junk from bankruptcies and odd pieces of crappy furnture. For us at this point it seems like shopping Heaven. We spy a big color TV for only 250 Euros (about half the going price) and pick it up for Giovanni's mother. Moral: if the stores are open, people will buy things!
The insane thing about the whole car thing is: they are so super-concerned about emmissions (the catalytic converter code), and yet we we forced to make FOUR round trips of 3 hours each, just to get the damn cars registered. Forms on-line? No way! Submit the forms by mail? "Per carita'!" Faxes are also right out of the picture (even though a recent law establishes that they are valid legal documents). Having a teller on the premises is also obviously out of the question; otherwise how would the Post Office survive if they couldn't extract the 3 Euros(1 Euro x3 different payments) for each car?!?
They are also (rightly) concerned about traffic problems, yet one can imagine that half the cars on the road are out seeking to complete some ridiculous/superflous errand (paying a phone bill at the Post Office, going to the bank, going to some gov't. office or another).
Now we are looking at another round trip to pick up the "libretto di circolazione" (the registration card) which for some reason takes up to a month for them to provide, once they have given you the plates, but without which you can't get insurance.
Big Snowstorm
Nothing extraordinary in Boston terms, but unusual here. Late in the afternoon on the 29th, it started snowing and, after an hour or so, the power went out. With the fireplace, we were able to cook up a scrumptious chicken and could conceivably sleep in the kitchen if necessary. Except for one faucet in the kitchen which is linked to the acqueduct, the water in the house comes from a well and is circulated via an electric pump from a big plastic cistern on the ground floor. Thus, for toilet flushing we had to go back and forth with pots of water from the kitchen.
During a previous storm a week or two before, there was a lot of lightning & thunder; our APS back-up for the computers shrieked on and off and performed wonderfully, but one of the lightning strikes blew out our unprotected modems. As it turned out, the whole central exchange got blown out, and no-one in the town had telephone service for more than a week. Our phones worked (just not the modems) but our landlady went 18 days without phone service and is now mounting a 'causa' (lawsuit) against the phone company for lost income from her rental business!
Q&LI Informatica
Giovanni is still waiting for his business to get off the ground. First we had to wait for the beginning of the year, when a whole series of new regulations went into effect. This is seen less as a reform to make it easier for small businesses than as a hand-out to the thousands of 'notai' (a kind of super-notary-type lawyer figure that rakes in a lot of dough here for overseeing transfers of property, skimming off an obscene percentage (2-4%) of every transaction), who are in charge of putting together the paperwork for forming new businesses. All businesses now have to be re-configured according to the new rules, so you can imagine amount of work (and fees) that this will bring.
Before visiting the 'notaio', however, he has to have a 'perizia' (a kind of approved estimate of the value of the capital of the company). You can't just say, "here's my 2 used computers, printer, etc. with an estimated value of $X" and put that into the company--a special assessor has to review and approve it. The first assessor took the list and sat on it for more than two weeks before saying he couldn't deal with it; now the second assessor has just finished it after another week. Now we have to wait for Giovanni's partner Paolo to have a free weekend to go to the 'notaio' together and start the 'pratica' (paperwork). Who knows after that how long it will take to get the all-important "partita IVA" which is the equivalent of the "04" number businesses in the States have to track tax collection and tax exemption and which has to be on all your bills and official paperwork.
Though it's incredibly slow-going, we still have a lot of hope for him to find work here and to find a receptive audience for his "SuMisura" business software. People here are desperate, and there's no MicroCenter to run to... Our landlady has indicated that's "there's a lot of hidden wealth" in this zone, and folks seem to be trying as best they can to set up new businesses and get things working. We're keeping our fingers crossed; the real proof will be, once he gets his 'partita IVA' and can actually start going around advertising and chatting folks up. Lucky for us, too, that the landlady seems to be very well-connected..
We wish everyone the best, and hope that you will have the chance to write and let us know how things are going with you. The weather here is generally cold and grey; we are waiting patiently for Summer, and the Sun to cheer us up a bit.
Love, Cynthia & Giovanni
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