Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro: 26oC, hottish, sunny and with a bright sky.
Today is Monday, the start of the week, and it’s Federal Police Day for me. Unfortunately, I didn’t sleep well last night, a recurring problem. I suspect it might be due to anxiety about the upcoming week or my appointment with the federal police.
I didn’t exercise today because of my lack of sleep, even though the seven o’clock class was cancelled. I had some extra time to get things done before heading to Santos Dumont Airport, where the Federal Police station is located.
The interview was arranged for 9.45 am, about a fifteen-minute bus ride or five or six minutes by taxi. The idea is to arrive early, just in case. While showering, Claudio, the despachante, called me, saying that he was already at the airport and that the interview was for 9.15, not 9.45.
So, I quickly got dressed. My rucksack already contained all the necessary papers and more. I caught a taxi in front of my building, and it was just a straight line to the airport, two or three kilometres away. Entering the airport entrance, I found out where the Federal Police Station was on the second floor. In Brazil, the second floor is the third floor as it goes: ground floor, first floor, second floor, etc.
Logically, I went up to the second floor, and there was a federal agent behind a stand receiving people and answering enquiries. She kindly directed me to the official federal police station about twenty metres behind me in the other direction.
At that moment, I thought that Claudio could be inside the federal police station, advancing my case; I think it was my naivety or that I was plain stupid because when I went to the counter, two receptionists were receiving people.
I politely approached and presented myself, informing one woman that I had an appointment scheduled for 9.15. The receptionist in front of me asked me for all my documents. I opened my rucksack and began to take out all the documents I knew were needed.
The tone of the receptionist’s voice suddenly changed into a harsh, impatient way when she asked for proof of payment, the tax required to be paid to receive a new copy of my ID. When I informed her that that was with my despachante, she answered abruptly, saying I would have to wait outside in the corridor.
So, why am I mentioning this? And I am not a snowflake! I have often encountered and felt this during my long stay in Brazil. We can also talk about racism and the hypocrisy of people who say that they are not racist when they really are.
The world and modern society are hypocritical, and Brazil is a society full of hypocrisy on all levels and classes. Many people think that as I am a foreigner-um gringo, just the expression gringo is an indirect or veiled insult, that Brazil and Brazilians receive foreigners well and with open arms is not necessarily true.
During my time in Brazil, I have met many kind, hospitable, and genuine people I like, love, respect, and deeply admire. But there is also a level of prejudice against foreigners, especially from civil servants or people who have a certain level of power, as if they are threatened or even belittled by a foreigner’s presence. Or it could also be from a nationalistic mentality where the love of one’s country is the hate of others.
I once lost a pupil from the school due to a question in the methodology that was misunderstood by the pupil, who felt both disrespected and insulted. It was just her misinterpretation that caused her to feel that way and never to come back. It was her loss for interpreting in such a way, not the school’s.
The world and its modern society of today are a pisspot of hypocrisy where influential people distort, twist, misinform and manipulate reality for their singular needs and interests. I can honestly say that I do not see the colour of a person’s skin but more the character. Both my ex-wives are black, and if it were not for me, both my daughters would be black too.
I waited outside in the corridor, and Claudio, my despachante, called me, telling me he was in the café on the other side of the corridor. I went there, and we met and returned to the federal police reception, where the other receptionist received us, politely asked us to wait, and said that we would be soon called.
Twenty minutes later, I was called to take my photo and fingerprints and do an electronic signature. The whole process took ten minutes. If I am doing all of this, it is because everything is in order. I just needed to wait for my protocol so that in forty days or so, I could return to pick up my ID.
So, we were waiting outside, Claudio and I, talking about people we knew and things, when a very attractive female federal agent came to us and told us that there was a glitch in the system and that we would have to make the application for my ID online again. Claudio told me that sometimes it happens, and nothing could be done apart from doing it all again.
The federal agent told Claudio to quickly complete an online application using his mobile phone and print a hard copy in the Loterica (a Brazilian state bank and lottery agency with printing services) on the same floor as the federal police station.
The whole process took about forty minutes for Claudio to complete, and Claudio worked very well to resolve the problem quickly. We presented the new application to the agent, and then I had to go through the process again of a photo, fingerprints, and an electronic signature.
In an hour, I was leaving Santos Dumont Airport with the protocol to pick up my new Brazilian ID in approximately forty days. Despite the fright, everything was resolved, and it was one of the happiest days in a long time. Knowing that you are reaching your goal is always a good feeling.
It was about one p.m. when I left Santos Dumont from the back of the airport, which faces Marina da Gloria. My idea was to walk through the marina, feeling happy with myself for resolving one more problem while also appreciating the boats that I love to see so much and seeing if there was anything new there to look at, which is a kind of reward for me.
After the marina, I went over two passerelle footbridges which allow you to cross Aterro. I caught a bus in the direction of Botafogo/Copacabana, and in twenty minutes, I was home. I got off the bus two or three stops earlier to find medicine for Perola. I went to three or four pet shops; either they did not have the medicine, or it was too expensive.
When I finally arrived home, I called a well-known pet shop in Copacabana that had a reputation for being cheaper than the other places. They had the medicine, and it was much cheaper. They also deliver. In one hour, they delivered the medicine with no stress or confusion.
It has been a good day. I resolved my Brazilian ID and bought Perola’s medicine, which is important for her and the whole family. In the evening, I cracked open a bottle of wine to celebrate.
In bed by 10.00 pm.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading my blog. Check out my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments.
Richard
