The Hillbilly Viking

Nordic Wanderlust. Appalachian Apathy.

Makin’ Copies

For a country that seemingly has a bidet in every restroom, the Portuguese weirdly embrace the excess of the other kind of paperwork. We had to get some documents notarized yesterday to begin establishing ourselves here. I was a notary in Michigan, so I thought I could use the banter of a fellow professional (wink, wink, nudge, nudge) to grease the wheels. Stupid American.

Becoming a notary in Portugal requires 6 years of school, a written test, and orals. In Michigan, it required $15 and a black ink pen (and you could borrow their pen). Comparing our skill sets was like assuming I could be president because I once played a competent businessman on a TV game show.

_{Portugal: Come for the beaches, stay for the Kinkos.}

After a five-hour, bureaucratic death spiral that made the movie Brazil seem like a breezy, YouTube, do-it-yourself video, we actually emerged victorious with our signed documents (that do nothing more than allow us to submit additional documents) and two notary signatures that contained more pages than the documents we brought in.

_{Americans bringing their paperwork to the immigration board.}

I’d trade a kingdom of bidets for a Portuguese acceptable version of Docusign. Sadly, nothing here is digital, so we just keep tearing more off the roll. We’re gonna need a bigger backpack.

So, what have we accomplished? Well, first, we now know how to ask for Portuguese Excedrin at the farmacia with a near perfect accent. That skill will be invaluable going forward. Furthermore, we have hired an immigration lawyer and executed a Power of Attorney so she can hopefully be the paper tamer going forward. We have applied for an NIF (tax ID number), which is the opening salvo for anything immigration related (in any society, you ain’t nothin’ until you’re taxable), and our attorney has started the process of opening a Portuguese bank account, which, as I understand it, will be a lot like a gynecological exam performed by committee that ultimately results in an ATM card. If I had to guess, we’re less than ten percent there.

Mais Excedrin, por favor.