I like to think there is a hopeless romantic in the Department of Justice who punches the air dramatically when they learn that my husband has finally become an Irish citizen.
Some civil servant utterly invested in our relationship; one who has read through our personal letters, invitations to friends’ weddings and photographs with family.
I can picture them following Gianmarco’s story as he progressed his career and purchased a house, gasping when he added a marriage cert and twins’ birth certs to online visa applications.
We flooded the department with documents of a personal nature so they couldn’t refuse us a chance at a future together, resulting in residence permits and now citizenship.
Molde 0 Shamrock Rovers 1 FT as it happened: Teenager Michael Noonan gives Rovers first leg lead
Three companies that shared €4.8m from Arts Council for abandoned IT project named
‘I met Gianmarco the day I finished the Inca trail in Peru. Today he is an Irish citizen’
Here’s why Ireland is on Donald Trump’s tariffs hit list, as sweeping new measures announced
I first met Gianmarco the day I finished the Inca trail in Cusco, Peru. A regular story of boy-meets-girl who then date 9,844km apart.
Friends used to tease as we met up again on “neutral ground” (“What’s your romcom going to be called: ‘PS, I’m in Morocco’?”), but there was clearly a connection, and we persisted by trialling visits in both Lima and Dublin.
We never dreamed of a cross-continent relationship, but we took a punt and here we are 19 years later at the Convention Centre.
When he first arrived in 2013, Gianmarco was told he was one of nine Peruvians in the country. (Fact check: there were at least more than 51 according to the CSO and that has risen to 231 by Census 2022.)
But he soon found his tribe. There’s something about being far from home that brings out a fervent sense of nationalism. Suddenly we were waving red and white flags at Independence Day celebrations, seeking out compatriots to swap recipes for ceviche and roaring at the big screen as Peru qualified for their first World Cup since Spain 1982.
Gianmarco later joined other Peruvians in the St Patrick’s Day parade, was invited to the Áras by Michael D and even trialled a pop-up Peruvian restaurant.
Similarly, he assimilated to Irish culture. He embraced opportunities to learn Irish, pick a favourite pub (The Blue Light) and learn enough about rugby to hold his own during the Six Nations.
At one point he even joined a burly, if ageing, rugby team. He persisted with training through muddy November in Donnybrook, but called it quits after a collision in a scrum and a purple eye, retiring just weeks after his debut aged 40.
“I moved to Ireland in the month of August, so the culture shock was minimal as the weather was great,” he says. “The winters are hard, but there’s nothing like Dublin – people are friendly, always interested to know where I come from and exchange stories. I love how Irish people respect their culture, how they are so proud of their language.”
Now over a decade in, our family of four relish weekend walks in the mountains, swims with the boys (think more Swan Leisure Centre, less Irish Sea) and sessions with our extended family.
Although the distance to his hometown never shrinks, connections to family in Lima are now as quick and cheap as a WhatsApp call.
Let’s be honest, there’s little romance left in the Civil Service these days, but cheers to that bored bureaucrat for trawling through years of tedious applications to lead to Irish citizenship.
