#59: Teacher Strikes and Bureaucratic Birthdays

Ciao Nonni!

This week has been another busy one, with some new Italian achievements unlocked.

These included experiencing our first ever education union strike on Friday. And much more excitingly, buying a very small and inexpensive Fiat, to use as a little runabout. Mostly for when it rains - and to explore the nearby countryside around Lucca.

Strike action in Italy is standard business, and is especially common on the rails - usually taking place on a Sunday. The sciopero is always advised well in advance, so it is usually only the most unfortunate of tourists who really get left high and dry. And not all the trains are cancelled, so you can usually still get to where you need to go ... eventually. 

Given that until recently we were in the private school system, we hadn't come across a teacher strike yet. But now that Raffy is at a public school, we are fair game. 

As with the trains, the strike was advised in advance. 

The slightly perplexing thing for me was that the notice said that the teachers may or may not turn up. In fact, the key message in the notice for parents was that we were obliged to check that the teachers were in fact in attendance that morning before leaving our children at the school. If any children were left in the case of the strike being observed, the offending parents would be called back immediately.

When I asked around the other parents whether we would know ahead of Friday morning, they all just shrugged and said probably not. One advised me to call the school at 8am on the morning of the strike to ask if the teachers were there.

I was perplexed.

Should I make alternative arrangements, or not? No one else seemed to be, although it did seem like there was a very high chance that it would go ahead as planned. Past strikes certainly have.

As I had my own Italian classes to attend, I organised for Raffy to be looked after elsewhere for the morning. But I got the distinct impression that I was in the minority on this. Did everyone else know something I didn’t? Was all of this a charade and there was a secret Italian sign that the strike was not actually going to go ahead? No one was letting me in on the secret if so!

Or perhaps I was somehow not supporting the teachers by even thinking of making contingency plans? I don't know too much about the education sector in Italy, but I both a) think Raffy's teachers are all fantastic, and b) suspect that the level of respect and fair remuneration for teachers here is probably like most of the rest of the world in that it needs serious improvement.

Certainly there was a lot of support for the action amongst everyone I spoke with.

It was quite the conundrum.

In any case, I needn't have bothered. School went ahead, with all teachers in attendance. Raffy had a changeup for the morning, which she loved. And I got to go to my Italian class. Where I was beaten into complete submission by a grammar-heavy session on the congiuntivo.

A language concept that, had the class been a few hours longer, probably would have reduced me to tears. 

In other news, I had the most fantastic conversation with a friend over an aperitivo this week. She was telling me about a bureaucratic interaction that had me in complete stitches. 

Everyone here seems to have their own set of strategies for dealing with the Italian bureaucracy. Mine is to take the bambini with me whenever possible, as most Italians are powerless to resist the charms of the two little princelings as they parade around and speak Italian when clearly their idiot mother cannot.

Honestly I have occasionally contemplated taking them out of school for certain appointments, such is the change in outcomes when I have them with me versus not. 

My friend, who needed to update her identity documents, tried a new one out. It was coming up to her birthday, so she thought she would make the appointment for that day. 

The woman who stands at the door to check that everyone trying to come in has an appointment was completely unmoved, despite asking specifically for a birth date as part of the identification process. 

Fortunes changed at the sportello though, when it was revealed that the woman behind the desk was also celebrating her birthday on the very same day! The process was as smooth and seamless as it was possible to be, and my friend was told she could retrieve her documents in a few weeks. She would receive a call when they were ready for collection. Success!

A couple of months go by, and no call. Frustrating, but fairly standard.

So my friend decides to return to the comune to investigate what has happened. Upon arrival, and explaining the situation, she is immediately asked who she spoke to on the day.

This question is often the opening gambit in bureaucratic tangles. Because they know that you don't know who it was. It’s a classic gotcha, that immediately starts you off at a disadvantage.

An Italian bureaucrat will almost never tell you their name. And of course there are no name tags or name plates on desks. They sit there with your entire life in paperwork in front of them, and you will never know a single detail about them. 

My friend could not provide an answer, but then she remembered. She has the same birthday as me!

For some strange but magical reason, the woman didn't immediately tell her to buzz off. Instead, she picked up a list of all the employees working in that department and started calling them one by one to ask if their birthday was on the same date in July.

After a few perplexed replies in the negative, she found the right person. And off they all went, to clear everything up. Absolutely amazing. 

Something for me to remember, if I ever find myself with something I need to achieve around the month of September…

I'll talk about the car another time, because honestly we are still working out a few of the details, but it has certainly been another big tick in terms of Italian life admin achievements. 

All my love, and a very big hug.