Insomma.
La mia adorata Moldava ha fatto richiesta per il permesso di soggiorno nel luglio/agosto dell'anno passato. Contestualmente abbiamo fatto la richiesta per il ricongiungimento familiare per suo marito. Funziona così: tu compili e invii la richiesta online, poi devi essere contattato dallo Sportello Immigrazione per presentare i documenti che attestino dove verrà ospitata la persona e se hai uno stipendio tale da poterla mantenere. E altre scartoffie (un sacco).
Nel frattempo però era uscita una legge di matrice leghista che in pratica dice che after submission of documentation to the ATM, the Police has one hundred eighty days (six months!) time to give the green light, whereas before they were ninety days.
I would have to wait until autumn.
When she, weary of waiting, went to the door to ask to what extent was the practice, gave an appointment for the following month. He presented himself with all the required documents officially, but he called me saying that my deed was missing ... This is new! The deed! Fortunately I was able to find it, it scannerizzai and sent it by fax (made an exception, because the person at the counter was male, and Moldova, as well as be a beautiful girl, has the mild-mannered but firm).
Not even a month later came into possession of the authorization for the husband, and is so happy.
In just over a month back in Moldova and riabbraccerà his family. He wanted to stay away three days, we convinced them to take a week.
I know that I am very grateful for its regularization (where we also had much ass) and for the reunion.
However I do not want to express this gratitude with a gift. There is no need, because I feel almost like a sister, and it is natural to have done everything that has portato due bravissime persone a ottenere di poter stare in Italia. Non voglio che buttino via soldi. Il mio regalo è stato vederla piangere di felicità quando l'hanno chiamata per dirle che il nulla osta per il marito era pronto.
Basta questo. E giuro, non è retorica.
