Gala, where have you been? It's nice to hear from you again. Missed ya, kid!
Do you have any specific realities that you could share? I'd really appreciate it.
In 1978, i picked up and moved to Ireland, much as you propose to do with Italy. From my experience, i offer this: spend as frugally as possible, it may be nice to treat others and feel good about yourself--until you aren't sure when the next meal will arive. Make sure you have a return flight for as long a period as the visa allows, which i believe is usually six months (it was in 1978, and it is right now in the case of Canada)--even if you decide to stay longer, and are able to do so, as soon as you are certain of that, you might be able to get the ticket transferred, or get a partial refund--but whether or not you do, you need a last resort "escape hatch." Staying in youth hostels will work for cheap accomdation; be wary of strangers ot eagerly offering lodging, but don't discard the idea altogether. Someone who brings it up may have a notion of getting something out of you; someone else may come to it in the course of conversation, and it could prove useful to you. It would be a good idea to speak to as many newly arrived Italian immigrants as possible.
We once picked up a hitchhiker coming back from the special license north of Sligo. He made the comment that: "The Irish will invite you to dinner out of courtesy, and hope like hell you won't show up." The other people in the car objected, but when he pressed the point, they remained silent. You can only learn such things from natives. If you speak to twelve people, you'll get twelve stories--but where the stories coincide you may stumble upon some useful home truths about live in Italia. Hitchhiking is not necessary as dangerous or unpleasant as it is here, but you can find out, once again, from those newly arrived what the Italians think of hitchhikers. Most rail systems offer "tourist" or "rambler" passes, which are greatly reduced rates on a "good-any-time, good-anywhere" ticket for the second or third class (low comfort, low, low price) accomodations over a period of time, say a month. If you settle quickly, you might be able to sell of the pass, as it likely won't require personal ID the way an airline ticket does.
If you decide to work "under-the-table," be very careful about the situation. This is what eventually sunk me. I was working for a house painter, and as i paid no taxes, he could pay me less, and i still had more take-home than my fellow workers. One of them conceived a grudge against me, largely because he had never had a raise (being lazy as sin), and so was jealous of what i made. If working off the books is your first resort, never stop looking for "legal" work opportunities. Likely, if you find anything good, you'll have to get your visa changed to accomplish it--finding the local American consulate wherever you are, and cultivating at least a casual friendship with someone there who can get you information about policies will help.
Take as few articles of clothing as will allow you to hand wash things, and turn out decently each day. This is as important to successful hitchhiking as it is to a job interview. If something turns up, buying things on the local market will be a hell of a lot better than trying to schlep around with too much baggage. When you buy things, remember that the VAT is going to make prices seem sky-high. When i was in Ireland, i believe it added 15% to the purchase price (either that, or the VAT in combination with local taxes).
Keep your big head about you, and therefore the little head out of harm's way. You will always be the outsider, and far more expendable, and deserving of less consideration in any situation in which you find yourself, unless and until you get settled. There is no faster way to ruin yourself in a community than to get a bad reputation at a time when people still are not certain about you.
This is good advice i had from others, common sense, and some of the lessons i personally learned. I ain't tellin' which gaffes i committed among those given above.
We moved to Saudi Arabia when I was 36. The reason was mostly financial, but I was stuck in a rut at the time, and the change was good for me.
I agree with Eva. DO IT! Life is too short not to.
Do it.
There will be times when you regret your decision (but it'll happen also if you don't go). But in overall, if you come there to stay, migration feels like climbing a mountain; there's no experience that comes close to it.
It's a good idea to visit the destination country first though.
Think well about what
exactly you want. Moving to another country is not irreversible, but it's not always easy to move back or move further.
If you want a relaxed lifestyle, sun, friendly English speaking people - maybe you should consider Australia. They also have an independent migration program, although you'll have to wait about a year for the permanent resident visa.
If you want an upper third world country which is a tropical paradise as well (and tired of being single too), you might want to try Philippines. You might want to pack your guns along
. OK, I'm kidding - not all the areas are that bad. Another perk is that despite the official language is Tagalog, nearly everyone speaks English there (in some areas even better than Tagalog).
Another tip - look for like-minded American expats. Chances are, you're not the only one.
Here's what Google has to say.
What we really want is ... a place to stay when we go on our hols to Italy - yay!
Thanks, guys. Very useful stuff. Heeven, it's going to be awhile before I have a place for you to stay, but when I do, you can! As long as you take off that ridiculous emu suit when you're in my house, that is.
ridiculous, I hear you say? Man this is as good as it gets. Whaddya want me to do - skin meself alive?
Come on, take it off, baby!
Kicky, I think you mentioned that you worked for a large multinational. Would it possible for you to ask them for a transfer ? Once you ar ein the country then you can start looking for another job, in th emeanwhile yr current one will sustain you
Good thought, Gautam, but I'm in the graphics department, which is basically the appendix of the company. It's a finance company, and there isn't any graphics work outside the U.S., really. Thanks for the idea though.
kicky, you called me kid?
Yeah, it's a term of endearment, no?
Okay, maybe only in my world. But it surely couldn't be construed as an insult, was it?
no, not construed as an insult cause you put the smiley face by it. it just makes you sound like an old man.
i'll tell you more about It'ly tomorrow, i have a date with the sandman now.
Gala wrote:kick my ass, kicky
Now that is an interesting thing to say. Not "kiss" my ass, but "kick" my ass. Sorry, I'm not into that bondage and discipline stuff, Gala. But don't worry, I won't tell anyone your little secret. He he.
gautum has it right-- look into working over there.
rome is expensive, chaotic, dirty, and confusing. red-tape is way of life -- it's easy to romantisize the place from afar, but the reality is, it's hot and smelly in the summer, gypsies move in flocks, the winters are raw and cold, and unless you're living high on the hog, most restaurants keep the heat low, the toilets in public places are often a porcelain hole where you stand and place your feet and hope your aim is good, the water never gets very hot for a good bath or shower, laundry-mats are rare (maybe that's changed), so you have to drop it off.
there are at least ten different kinds of police, and when they go to a bank to pick up the dough, it is standard for a cadre of police to surround the brinks truck with machine guns aimed at any and or all potential targets. same goes with the airports, and any place where il papa is in the vicinty.
some of the sights i saw: a car in flames on the bridge near the castel san angelo with people fleeing, hypodermic needles aand junkies shooting up in the side streets.
speed limits are non-existent and i saw a woman get hit by a car on a bridge near the tiber river. the car that hit her stopped, backed up, and two men got out, hoisted her limp body into the car and drove off.
if you fall into the lungo tivere (tiber river) and you're not swept away, you'll be a goner in 6 months from liver disease.
and don't even think about bringing you're beloved bowl, if you're busted for pot you'll spend the rest of your days rotting prison, which means you'll never get to see your holy roller sister in-law again.
there is no tomato juice to nurse your hangover, no ice cubes, no cranberry juice, the nurses in the hospital wore open toe sandals, the toilets in the hospital were clean enough but reminiscent of the those in a gas station, with questionbable rotating towels.
there are as many stray cats as there are pigeons. scrawny, starving, rat-like cats that make their home at the colloseum and other ruins and probably don't live for more than a year or two.
and, the more south you go, the more bizarre it gets. but i'll spare you for now.
note: i have not said a thing about the glories of italy...i'm saving that. cause, it really is one of the most glorious places.
one more thing, watch a fellini movie, that will give you an idea of the constant swirl and chaos....
