Home Sweet Rome

We are officially unpacked. Last Thursday we left the room that Josh had been staying in and moved into a cute little one bedroom off of Via Cavour. Not a moment too soon either, staying in one room with Josh, the cat and all of our belongings was not my idea of a good time. I didn't even bother to unpack much in the short time I was there, so I was really anxious to find a more permanent solution. And a more permanent solution we found. We signed a 12 month lease, eek! I guess we are here for awhile. Securing the apartment may have been my first true taste of the Italian way of life. Josh had looked at the space before I arrived and set up a time for me to see it shortly after. We decided that it was a great deal in our price range (of course towards the top, but isn't that always how it works?), in a nice neighbourhood, clean and got good light (which I am convinced that only artsy architect types are overly concerned with, but I too have come to appreciate a space with "good light"). So it was agreed that we would take the apartment. And here the adventure begins! To secure the apartment we had to give the real estate agent, Angela, who is very nice (and tall and blonde and tan, very Italian, she intimidates me a little bit) the equivalent of one month's rent in cash. This seemed to be a normal enough procedure and something that in the States I could have done with the flurry of a pen or a flash of the plastic. Not so here in Italia I discovered. My first logical option for securing this much cash was my bank. I had switched to a Citibank account before we left, so I could take advantage of their "Global Reach" and thousands of ATM's worldwide. It was around 11am. I then learned that the Citibank in Rome closes at 1:30PM and it is on the other side of town, about a 45 minute walk at least from our room in Trastevere. So, I hope in a cab (I am sure I was not taken in the most direct route) and arrive at the Citibank branch with plenty of time to spare. Here I find out that the Citibank location in Rome, is indeed a Citibank, but does not do the business of personal banking and is only an investment center. They have no way of helping me, but did suggest that I simply use the ATM outside on the street. Not a bad idea, so I did just that. All would be well except that to protect my own interests, Citibank has a limit on the amount of cash I can withdrawal on my account during any given business day. Thank you Citibank. So I am still short about half of the cash. I have yet to purchase my Italian cell phone, so I am on the other side of town and have made plans to meet with Josh over his lunch break at 1:30 by meeting him at the statue in the Campo near his office. At this point, I am skeptical of another cab ride and I hate to take cabs anyway, so I embark on the 30 minute hike to his office in the midday sun. This is fine, I have water and it gives me a chance to mull over my current predicament. On the way back, I pass by a Deutche Bank, also known for their worldwide banking presence. I figure that it can't hurt, so I stop by. The queue was long, but I had a good feeling. I got to the front and the man behind the glass said that he couldn't help me, but I had to see the man in the "little box", which I than figured out meant the cubicle across the lobby. He was busy and while I was waiting another man in a little box offered to help. I explained to him my situation. That basically I had plenty of funds, I just couldn't access it. I could not get my own money. I was holding my own self ransom. He told me that I could open up a non-resident Duetche Bank account and we could transfer my Citibank funds into the Duetche Bank account and viola! I would have a "local" bank to deal with. I was prepared for this type of thing, I had all of my Citibank information, I had my Italian tax ID number, I had my passport, and what else could this man want!? He needed all of that, but in addition for me to open up an account at Deutche Bank, he needed a Teletext from Citibank that included "phrases of introduction". Basically he wanted a formal introduction from Citibank that said, "I am pleased to introduce you to Kim Mackley". He didn't need them to confirm my account or say that I was a good customer, he simply needed an introduction. I guess our handshake ten minutes prior was not enough. So, with the chances of getting a hold of Citibank and anyone in Italy making this introduction before everything closed for lunch was slim to none, I headed back out on the road to ponder further with Josh. One more stop on the way at the scary Western Union place, I learned that indeed, you can't send money to yourself (try explaining that in broken Italian\English). The fat lady behind the greasy glass did offer some help though. She suggested the ever dreaded cash advance. Everyone knows that you should try to avoid this cash advancing at all costs, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I made it back to the Campo with this idea and a sunburn. Josh and I talked it over and indeed this was the way to go. In the meantime, Angela had called Josh (because I had no phone) and they set up an appointment for me to meet her with the cash at 4pm. I had one and a half hours to find the rest of the cash. So we grabbed a quick Panini and parted ways. My first stop for the cash was Banca Roma. No luck, they don't do cash advances after lunch. Second was Banca di Lazio Populare. I waited in the room for quite sometime and no one even looked my direction. I cut my losses here and headed for another branch of Deutche Bank, afterall, I had a bit of progress with them earlier. No luck here, they were nice enough to put a giant sign in the lobby though "NO TRAVEL CHEQUES. NO CASH ADVANCE". It was getting closer to four, so I decided to cut my losses, head for the apartment and pray for two things. One, a bank to be on the way. Two, the ability to convince Angela that I would give her the rest of the cash tomorrow without looking like a total idiot. So I dredged up Via Cavour and although filled with many things, mostly souvenir shops, there were no banks in sight. Finally a block away from the apartment was the last and only bank on my route. I gave it a shot. I went in (temporarily confused by the door, which took your thumbprint before it opened) and immediately had a good feeling. There was no line and a friendly older man behind the glass. I explained to him that I needed a cash advance. He told me that they do not do them in the afternoon's (where does all of the Italian money go in the afternoons!?!??!). I told him that I need to pay a deposit on my new apartment, please, couldn't he help. He said alright and asked how much I needed. I told him, he said he could give me half of that. I begged again. Finally he agreed!!! I got the cash and dashed out of the bank like I had just robbed it. I have never been so happy to win my own money! I proudly handed it over to Angela a few minutes later and the apartment was mine!