The last issue's comments on the teacher-hiring scandal and the Italian custom of cheating to beat the system drew a number of replies, ranging from one, in Italian, thanking me for explaining what was going on (apparently the accounts in the American press weren't clear), to one telling me I was insulting Italians and that there were bad apples everywhere. There certainly are, but we're talking about something different here. Those living in the Peninsula have to deal with an astonishingly bureaucratic government, one with layer upon layer of functionaries and officials who work for competing offices, all of whom have their turf to defend, and all of whom apply the rules as they see fit. As a result, you can easily find yourself in a bind because the apparently reasonable rules of different offices make it impossible for you to do what you want. At which point you dust off your list of acquaintances, talk to someone who knows someone, and get the thing done that way. Depending upon who you are and who the people you talk to are, you may (or may not) end up beholden to the person who arranges things, or money may change hands. For example, when I began the process of enrolling at the University of Florence, I was told by the Italian Consulate in Boston that I would be granted a student visa upon being admitted to the University. At the University I was told one of the prerequisites for admission was a permesso di soggiorno per motivi di studio (a permission to stay in Italy to study, which is issued by the police). To get it, the police told me I had to have a student visa. Which the Italian Consulate wouldn't issue until I was admitted. My father, who had been President of the association of American university programs in Rome, talked to a friend who knew people in the Ministero degli Esteri (which handles consulates, visas and such); the police got a telegram authorizing the release of the permesso di soggiorno and in short order I was enrolled. This is known as L'Arte di Arrangiarsi, the Art of Getting By.

No cheating involved in my case, but there was in a case one of Elisabetta's cousins told me about the other night. Some background: Up until the early 70s, enrollment in the Italian universities was quite limited; the prerequisite was that the student have attended a liceo (high school) rather than an istituto tecnico (a technical institute, where one learns a trade or profession). Since the licei were much tougher and only prepared students for university, the majority opted for the istituti and university enrollment was limited. One of the upshots of the student unrest that began in 1968 was the decision to allow those from istituti tecnici to enroll in the universities, while another was the removal of admissions exams. Enrollment in prestigious disciplines, for example medicine -- in Italy one enrolls directly in the chosen field, without the 4-year liberal pause -- skyrocketed. The universities weeded out as best they could by making some exams so difficult that the less gifted students simply gave up (if you fail an oral the first time, you can keep trying until you succeed or have had enough). But enough people kept at the prestigious disciplines that we now have horrendous gluts in all of them, and a university degree is no longer a guarantee of a post, especially for a doctor. So, over the past 5 years there has been a return to admissions exams. Enter Elisabetta's cousin's acquaintance: Her son wanted to enroll in something difficult to get into, and she had a degree in something quite similar (e.g. medicine and veterinary medicine). Their last names differed, so she established residency in her country home to make them seem unrelated, applied too, took the exam with him, and slipped him the answers; he got in. L'Arte di Arrangiarsi, the Art of Getting By.

There is also another aspect to cheating on (or bending the results of) the exams that assign public posts. Since exams of this sort are open to anyone who is qualified, the person who wins could live hundreds of miles away, and be completely unknown to the people already working in the lab, school, hospital, or whatever. Perhaps the directors of the school really would like to give a permanent job to a good teacher who has been subbing for them for the past 5 years, or the hospital administration wants to hire a promising doctor who has been doing volunteer work in the wards (young doctors often work full time without pay while waiting to be hired). Since the exam is open to all applicants, they tell "their" candidates to use a code phrase in the written part so they can be identified, and let them know what the questions will be at the oral. The logical solution to this situation would be to let local administrators hire the people they want for local posts. It may come to this, but were you to suggest it now, you'd likely be told you were being undemocratic, because those qualified from elsewhere would be precluded. Everyone must have a chance, runs the mantra. Thus, we continue with the fiction that the playing field is level, when it's not, and is full of pits and obstacles too, in particular corrupt commissions and bribe-paying applicants. The end result of L'Arte di Arrangiarsi, The Art of Getting By.

Thoughts on Italian food
On Italian wine
On living in Italy
Send a card from the Italian Cuisine Post Office, or browse the photos!

Subscribe to the Newsletter
Name	Email