A very Portuguese day

Ah, productivity (44)

The Monday before we were struck down with Covid, we experienced what we’ve since come to fondly refer to as a very Portuguese day.

Before we moved, we read numerous accounts from expats (mostly American, but not always) talking about how many things move at a different pace in Portugal. The wheels of bureaucracy have a particular reputation for languidity.

Some government offices seem to have a hybrid system for working with the public. It’s possible to make an appointment. It also doesn’t necessarily seem to matter whether or not one has an appointment - people arrive and line up before the office opens and are often admitted based on their place in line even if they took the time to schedule ahead.

One piece of advice that stuck with us was the recommendation to plan to only get one thing accomplished in a given day. It’s entirely possible to end up waiting for hours to talk to the right person and even that may not resolve an issue.

So we began Monday, November 7 with an ambitious agenda. First on our list was retrieving the mysterious packages that were awaiting us at our local bancoctt office. On Friday, we’d received notices in our apartment’s mailbox that we had registered mail we could pick up anytime after 11 AM on Monday. We were hopeful these would be our residency permits but it also seemed a little quick for those given that our SEF appointments had been only a couple of weeks earlier. (They were also in different cities so the odds of our cards arriving together seemed slim.)

Regardless, we showed up at the bancoctt (which really does seem to be a hybrid bank/post office) around 13h, did the “take a ticket from the machine inside the front door” bit, and settled in for what turned out to be about a 45-minute wait for our number to be called.

Our local bank/post office. Image from Google Maps.

The packages did, in fact, turn out to be our residency permits! There was much celebrating (quietly, given the tomb-like atmosphere of the place). Then Scott noticed that the zip code on his card was incorrect (1150-203 rather than 1250-203). Two things about this:

1. it’s entirely his fault as he signed off on the information during the appointment in Braga. He must have missed it.

2. the card got to us anyway. It may have taken an extra day, it may not have. How does mail get routed in Portugal?

Since this is his only legal identification document in Portugal and isn’t due to be renewed for two years, it seemed like an error that would need correcting.

When we got home, we would need to figure out how to manage that.

Still, flush with our success and clutching our new cards, we decided to go next to the junta da freguesia, essentially the town hall, and do two things that had been on our checklist since we’d arrived:

1. get a copy of an atestado de residência, a proof of residency. Our understanding is this document is validated by some authority (in this case, the parish council) and constitutes proof that we live where we say we live. We’re not 100% sure specifically when we might need such a document, but we’ve read it’s a good idea to have as you never quite know when it might come in handy.

2. register Josie. In St. Louis, dog licenses were unenforced requirements. The same appears to be true here. We’ve always been rule-followers, so we figured we’d get Josie on the books.

The door to the freguesia in a very large and bland office building. Photo by Amy & Josie

It was a short walk to our destination, which we learned is in a building we pass almost daily on at least one dog walk. We arrived around 14h to find no line at all and were immediately seated and talking with a very kind woman who spoke passable English. Terrific!

Our understanding of the conversation is that the atestado costs €14 and is only valid for a month; therefore, is usually requested with a specific purpose in mind. Since we didn’t have a specific purpose, it didn’t make sense to get the document. At least we know where to go if we should need it in the future. We also realized that Josie’s three-year rabies vaccination had expired in October. Can’t get a dog license without an up-to-date rabies vaccine.

When we got home, we would need to schedule an appointment at the vet, then actually take Josie for the the jab.

After the freguesia, we decided we should finally go and get ourselves registered for free, government-sponsored Portuguese language classes. We will undoubtedly talk more about this the future, but the thing to know now is that these classes fill quickly, especially in Lisbon, and we may not get a seat in one until next September. The first step is to show up in person to register.

Off we went to the address Scott had, which turned out not to be an actual address but a town square (Praça José Fontana) surrounded on all sides by buildings, any one of which could house the office we needed. We decided to start by inquiring at the high school on the east edge of the square. Since it’s in the midst of a major construction project, we walked around the block until we found an entrance. Fortunately, the man standing just inside the gate knew what classes we were referencing and where to send us. We couldn’t go the most direct route (cf construction) so went back out and halfway around the same block only to find that the office was closed for a break until 16h. It was 15h20; we had 40 minutes to kill.

Ginormous high school fenced off for construction. Photo from Google Maps.

(We should mention here that Scott had a volunteer gig at 18h30 and, as it was his first time going, he didn’t know exactly how to get there or how long it would take. He’d been planning to leave the apartment around 17h30 just to be safe.)

We wandered into a nearby grocery store and purchased a small bottle of pasta sauce. We wandered around gawking at a new neighborhood. And it began to sprinkle. We took shelter under an overhang a couple of doors down from our destination and, finally, it was 16h. The door opened, we were invited in, and learned that two of the three people inside spoke a small amount of English. Scott stayed with the woman who appeared to be less comfortable with English, Amy went with the man who seemed to know more.

It soon became apparent that the computers were not working properly. Requests for information from us came haltingly (name … address … email …) and frustrated gestures and tongue-clickings were coming from the other side of the desks. After nearly an hour, our understanding was that we were successfully on waiting lists for the classes but the process of actually getting placed into one required use of a different computer program that may or may not function given the network issues. We could wait around or come back another day. We decided we didn’t have time to wait around.

We also learned that due to what we now recognize as a vague email exchange, we had been operating under the incorrect assumption that going to this location would put us on a centralized waiting list for multiple classes in multiple places, any one of which might have openings. Nope. This list works only for the classes taught at this school. Other locations may teach classes at times that work better for our schedules.

When we got home, we’d have to research our other options.

We left. It was raining harder. The nearest Metro station wasn’t particularly close so we decided to call an Uber for what was a less than 10-minute drive. We made it home in time for Scott to get where he needed to go.

To sum up:

• We left our apartment around 13h hoping to accomplish four things.

• We walked close to 3 km (roughly 1.75 miles) and got rained on.

• We spent nearly €6 on a very short Uber drive (surge pricing).

• We returned around 17h15 having accomplished .5 of those four things.

  • One of the remaining 3.5 things turned out not to be necessary.

  • The other 2.5 items required some level of follow up that we’re still working through today, three-and-a-half weeks later.

It was a very Portuguese day.

That’s all for now.

Love from Lisbon,

Scott & Amy