“Bureaucracy is a global pandemic.”

Today, we stroll through the world of Good News/Bad News.

Good news first: I have finally received approval for my Portuguese residence card renewal.

The bads news we find hiding inside that italicized word: finally.

This has been a slog!

A frustrating slog.

A months’-long slog filled with illogicalities, run arounds, rigamaroles, waste time, appointments that didn’t exist… and ultimately a lawyer that set me back €900, or about $1,065 in Dead President terms.

I tell you this not to knock Portugal or to grumble and gripe about all the inefficiencies of living abroad that can make a trip to the motor vehicle department in any American state seem like a breezy day at the park.

Instead, I tell you this to live up to my promise to readers.

See, every time I speak at an International Living conference, attendees approach to thank me for speaking the truth in these dispatches over the years. Lots of mainstream media fawn over living life abroad as a US expat. And there’s much truth in that… life overseas is better in many aspects: cheaper livings costs, more relaxing, more exciting, more adventurous, healthier food in many places, etc.

But I can assure you that it ain’t all unicorn burps and leprechauns handing out pots o’ gold.

There. Are. Frustrations.

For today’s dispatch, that frustration starts with a change Portugal made to its immigration processes recently.

Portugal recently shifted immigration duties from the old agency, SEF, to a new outfit called AIMA. The handoff has been anything but smooth. Even immigration lawyers are overwhelmed… Mine told me that there’s been close to 100,000 lawsuits filed against AIMA on behalf of befuddled clients.

My story is this:

My existing residence card expired in mid-October.

In late-summer, I began the process of renewing my card on my own. In theory, this could be done online, in a breeze… or so I was told. In theory, Portugal has established AIMA and the online process in order to streamline renewals… or so I was told.

If any of that is true, it’s a well-kept secret.

I was unable to use the online portal because it only allows renewals one month before a residence card expires.

So, I waited until mid-September. I returned and found that I could go to an office in a small town about an hour from Braga and renew my residence card. The gods of immigration have smiled upon El Jefe!

Only, not so much really.

More like the gods are cruel bastiches who clearly just wanted to toy with me on a random Thursday.

The lady at the counter of a suspiciously quiet office told me in broken English that I had screwed up and clearly hadn’t understood that her office, part of SEF, no longer handles residence-card renewal and that I need to use the AIMA portal.

“I did,” I told her. “And it said I could come here.”

She shrugged.

I left.

When I returned to the portal a day later, I found it would not let me register because doing so requires a local social security number—which I technically don’t need as a digital nomad who isn’t earning a Portuguese salary. Alas, the system does not know that.

When I reached out to AIMA about my situation, I was then told I’m not eligible to use the online portal because I already have an appointment for an in-person meeting with AIMA.

A very important note: I did NOT have an in-person appointment set up.

But—who knows?—maybe AIMA set up an appointment for me and I missed the email.

So, I trundled off to AIMA’s regional office here in Braga… where a security guard told me I need an appointment to meet with the agents.

“But I can’t make an appointment online,” I explained to him.

“Ah, ok,” he replied. “Then come back tomorrow at 6 a.m. and wait in line.” Note #2: AIMA’s office opens at 8:30 a.m.

“Oh, yes. That’s true,” he said. “But people who don’t have appointments show up starting at 6:30. We give out numbers so that agents can fit you in. If you don’t get here early, you won’t get a number.”

I’ll save you the reading: After two more visits, where I waited a cumulative 4 hours and 32 minutes, the local agent, other than confirming that I, in fact, do not have an appointment scheduled anywhere in the system.

She told me to go to another local office, where immigration agents actually do all the interviewing and whatnot… and at the office, the agent I found, whilst sympathetic to my cause, noting that “we see a lot of this now,”  was ultimately unable to assist as he doesn’t have access to the system that grants appointments.

I was stuck in a Kafkaesque loop: unable to register for my renewal online… because I couldn’t get my local social security number… because the AIMA system was insistent that I already have an in-person meeting somewhere that doesn’t exist.

Which is how I came to spend €900 on a local lawyer who filed a lawsuit against AIMA that finally unclogged the slog.

Like I said at the outset, this isn’t a knock against Portugal. Bureaucracy is a global pandemic. It’s just an anecdote to show that life can be challenging when you live overseas and you don’t speak the language well, and you don’t understand how to navigate systems that can be unnavigable. On a brighter note, I will say that the process in the Czech Republic was easier enough that my wife, Yulia, was able to renew all of our visas on her own.

And while, yes, this renewal process has been a bit of protological root canal, it’s definitely worth the effort because of the life I’ve lived over the past seven years in Europe.

The lower healthcare costs.

The lower cost of living. The improved standard of living.

The more healthful food and the new tastes. The ability to vacation all over the continent and into North Africa and the Middle East for a few hundred dollars.

Bureaucracy aside, I’m a much happier El Jefe than I was stateside.