predeparture diaries 1
University of Exeter, image by: https://www.univiu.org/about-viu/members/university-of-exeter
15/08/2023 – PREDEPARTURE DIARIES: How I Got Here
My decision to move to Italy for a year was made approximately three years ago when I decided to study Art History and Italian at the University of Exeter. It was a swift decision that I can’t claim was subject to much internal discussion. The course description stated something along the lines of ‘Oh and you HAVE to live in Italy for a year, it sucks but we won’t have it any other way.’ Unsurprisingly the pro list was significantly weightier than the cons. With the concoction of bubbling hard work and a demanding social life, I spent the first two years of uni developing my Italian from complete beginner to a A2/B1 standard, with the sometimes-neglected knowledge that by third year this would potentially be a handy skill to have under my belt before the move-to-a-foreign-country thing.
Nearing the end of 2022, Italian language students had officially been given the news from the Exeter Year Abroad team that, as a by-product of Brexit (specifically the erasmexit branch), those who wanted to spend their year abroad working had one option known as the British Council. It had become near impossible to get hold of a work visa for Italy. However, as an organisation that manages international cultural and educational opportunities, the British Council provides students with the opportunity to participate in a Language Assistant exchange programme. This meant that I was eligible to apply for a student visa.
After deliberation between this and study, I settled on applying for the British Council and so the paperwork began. The application for the British Council was standard and straight forward, essentially an extended CV. There was little guidance on how it should be structured but I went forward with a more formal approach which, after the jump scare of hearing that there were only 40 positions available IN THE WHOLE OF ITALY, I learnt was the correct move. My application form turned into the main focus in my life… other than essays, seminar prep, touch rugby, climbing and a dedicated social life… and after a few days I clicked submit.
The next step was to wait. I wouldn’t hear if I got the position until late April and there was a chance I wouldn’t hear about the regional allocation until June. This wasn’t the most comforting news as it meant that the visa application could end up being incredibly last minute. On the 17th April I received news that I had been shortlisted and recommended for a placement and on the 26th May I finally found out that I had succeeded in getting my first-choice region, Lazio.
Once I had received first contact from my school in the form of a Lettera di Nomina, it was finally time to book a visa appointment. A task that sounds easy, yet in practice required a several-days-long flaky relationship with the VFS website. As it turned out, this wasn’t the crux of the situation. The slow and painstaking process of acquiring my visa began to sour my romanticised preparation for life in Italy. Excitement had been drowned by fears of visa denial, quickly spiralling into major doubts surrounding my search for accommodation and roommates whose faults would preferably remain in the territory of unwashed dishes rather Joe Goldberg’s beige flags. I spent a few weeks collecting some 60 pages worth of documents and on the 10th August headed to the London visa application centre. I didn’t have high hopes for the process, hearing nightmares of unlisted documents and insufficient funds, but I was determined to get through it in one go. I sat in the waiting room calm and collected, taking in the several posters about missing items and subsequent visa denial. After waiting 20 minutes I was called forward to the desk, now with slightly sweaty hands clutching onto my folder of 60 documents and their respective copies. In the end, the actual appointment was very straight forward. What I had expected to be a CIA level inspection of my life on pages turned out to be four questions and five minutes of sticky-note removal. I said goodbye to my passport, rushed an embarrassingly British ‘grazie’ to the lady and managed to get to the exit before she changed her mind.
Back home, I spent four peaceful days believing I had got away with a first-time visa acceptance. On the fifth day, grief came in the form of an email from the Italian Consulate requesting more proof of funds that would provide sufficient financial support to see me on my way back to England. Luckily, I had a document to hand and received no further requests.
Current update: I am currently on the hunt for accommodation that will see me through the length of my time in Italy. Right now, I have 18 nights of an apartment booked, after which I have no home… I fly to Rome in 34 days.
