Special Report KEIN BABY!!!

Hello, welcome to the first Special Report!

Today’s Special Report is catalyzed by a surreal event in yet another cruel twist in the Housing Saga of Asya, her Cat, and her Partner.

At the time of this writing, my partner is whizzing towards me at 600 mph exposed to cosmic radiation. Why did my partner have to go so far? Because we have exhausted every housing avenue on America, and are considering Italy as a possible home.

My partner has Italian citizenship and background. Our biggest relocating worry is how make the journey as safe and low-stress as possible for our cat. Including splurging on a first class seat for one human to be with our cat in a more private area of the plane. I have even considered installing sound deadening on her carrier. But even with the best possible set-up, airplane travel seems like a form of torture for animals.

After endless soul-destroying hours on Zillow, multiple apartment visits, multiple applications to mortgage lenders, phone calls to rural municipal offices in Vermont, a van conversion, two cross-country scouting road trips, a try at intergenerational living, and a reconsideration of appealing to a higher power, we effectively gave up on finding a home in America.

Italy has slowly grown on us over the years. There was a town we were drawn to for a long time: Merano, in the autonomous German-speaking South Tyrol region in the north. The idea of relocating to Italy wasn’t considered earlier because we hoped to have our first child in America. But increasingly, Italy started to become not a desperate last resort, but a place we were naturally gravitating to. At the last minute, a real possibility in America came up, but we chose to go ahead with our Italy plan.

Renting was the only possibility for us to live in Merano. After looking at literally every rental listing on Idealista and Immobiliare over a few months, we found a two-bedroom place we were interested in, and contacted the real estate agency. After traveling nearly 24 hours starting at Newark Penn Station, taking three trains to JFK Airport, from the Milan airport taking seven trains amidst train strikes, paying for a hotel, preparing documents, meeting the real estate agent, touring the apartment, and strongly leaning towards signing a lease, we experienced a great shock.

Finally, we thought, after eight years of searching we might have a wonderful home! We might have done it! We figured it out! The real estate agent sends a text message, “You need to decide by tonight or tomorrow morning. Then you can come meet the owner and sign the lease. Another couple might be interested.” Okie-dokie, no problem, we will discuss the pros and cons and decide. A multi-year lease is a big deal but we will consider it carefully. The town is so beautiful! Everything is wonderful! Everything is working out!

Then the real estate agents sends a question from the old German-speaking man. “The owner wants to know if you are planning on having children. The last couple had a child and moved out. He also doesn’t noise in the building.”

WHHHHHAAAAA

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KEIN BABY FOR YOU!!!!!!!

KEIN BABY!!!!!!!

Not on the online listing, nor the official real estate website, nor from any other conversations with the agent, was anything like this ever mentioned.

It is hard to describe the level of surreal feeling we experienced. My first reaction was that this was eugenic-y. The property owners are allowed to decide who has a baby and who does not?! I am used to America, where there are strong equal opportunity housing laws: families are a protected class and age discrimination against children is illegal. Landlords can limit the number of adults in a lease, but they may not limit children. Infants get even more leeway. No, the system is not always perfect, but at least there is a strong federal law.

A horrible feeling started settling when I realized that “perfect for students, workers, and couples” in many of the other listings truly meant that two are not allowed to become three or else you can be easily evicted if you are not a citizen. Holy hell! In America, if an apartment says “perfect for couples” this is generally a suggestion of the ideal occupancy for comfort. It goes without saying that you may freely conceive, gestate, and give birth in any apartment you rent.

Unfortunately, in the shell shock, we considered being dishonest about our intentions to have a child to Herr Anti-Baby Monster. It wasn't just about this apartment, it was eight years of searching and suffering. But in the end, we were honest. We offered to sign the lease immediately the next morning if the no-baby stipulation was removed, but Herr Anti-Baby Monster said no. We learned that the couple in front of us also wanted the apartment but had plans to have a baby, so they took another apartment. The next couple, who knows! But why forbid the realtor from saying this at the beginning? Maybe Herr Anti-Baby Monster just enjoys seeing people get their hopes up, then crushing them. Maybe when a couple he deems appropriate to reproduce walks by, he will change his mind?

We never saw this coming from a friendly country that loves children. With a suicidally low birthrate. I don't think this would happen in any other part of Italy. We were soulfully drawn to the south and north-west, but felt slightly more secure being near the infrastructure and services of Trentino-Alto Adige, at least at the beginning. And we always wanted to go to Merano. The plan was to eventually explore other areas, including places of my partner's history in the north-west and mostly the south.

Why don't these apartment listings just write "KEIN BABY" on the advertisement, before people come from far away to see it? Why say "students, workers, and couples?" (Ours did not even mention that.) Because it is too ugly and shameful to write explicitly! Because it is wrong! Nobody has a right to tell people what they can and cannot do in their bedroom. Nobody is asking to stay in Herr Anti-Baby Monster's apartment for free. Having an apartment to rent out doesn't mean you can make decisions for how the tenants live their lives. No grilling, no loud music, no holes in the walls, fine? Perfectly okay. But no baby? You cannot tell people that. Did someone tell your parents that? Did you have a place to be born?

And just as a reminder, sex and babies can be spontaneous, Herr Anti-Baby Monster!!!

So after an eight year journey to find something as fundamental as a home, to do something as elemental as reproduce, having to search in another country, feeling like we finally might have found our sanctuary, we met another obstacle.

Time to start a new chapter in the Housing Saga.

Asya Carrino