Thursday, May 04, 2017

Papers in hand
Courtney & Emmanuel in front of the questura
It is all a blur. Emmanuel was first on line at the questura, but somebody cut him in line and proceeded to have a yelling fight with our immigration agent guy. F worried he would be in a bad mood, but the bald old grump was nice (for him). The female agent called Emmanuel's name and would not let F or Courtney accompany him to translate, but luckily the woman doing the paperwork does not speak Nigerian accented English, so she did the least and asked almost no questions, according to Emmanuel. It worked to our advantage. 
 
Then Courtney met the inspector and convinced him that for the chef's sake he should fill out the C3 forms to open a new political asylum request for Emmanuel. They did it and fingerprinted him and told him to come back in ten working days for the hard copy of his new, temporary stay permit. There was a shaky bit of the negotiation process about Emmanuel's right to work in which the inspector answered Courtney's question with the Italian hand gesture that means so-so. In other words, everything that Emmanuel is going through legally is largely unchartered territory because, if it was not such a difficult and expensive ordeal, they probably would have put him on a plane back to where he started by now. Since no one wants refugees wandering around undocumented and begging, it behooves everybody if he has a job, although some people would rather that he not do too well, either. It hurts my brain to think about that. 
 
After a day of teaching back to back classes, I went to Viareggio to deliver bread and cash to the old lady who is going to host Emmanuel. She signed the papers we needed her to sign, but then she asked us to deliver groceries to her daughter in Massarosa. We were not in a position to object. She called me hours later to tell me about a book reading she went to and to say that she found the bread a tad salty. I suspect Emmanuel will have his ear talked off, but maybe they will become dear friends. 
 
Right before brushing my teeth, the lawyer finally responded that he will coach the chef's accountant about how to make up a work contract with these unusual, but totally legal, documents that we have got him in the hail mary of all hail marys that has ever existed. Amen. 
 
I will not breathe properly until I see that man in an apron, washing dishes. But today went well. 

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