That was enjoyable, and maybe one day I'll write about it and post the photos.
But more importantly....
* * *
When we last left our hero (or anti-hero, or regular schlub)...
I arrived back into the country from Buenos Aires and was given admission on a tourist visa. The federal police asked me, in due time, to go back to the Ministry of External Relations (Itamaraty) to get my visa situation clarified. These events are detailed in a prior post.
Bethany arrived a few days later. While we were in Petrópolis, I received an email from Patricia Grijo at the Fulbright office in São Paulo. (Patricia is, by widespread acclaim, the Greatest Brazilian Ever.) Patricia had emailed a contact at Itamaraty to inquire about my situation, and the error by which I have a "Prazo de Estada/Duration of Stay" of ninety days only. Her contact forwarded the message to the Department of Immigrations (DIM), who in turn contacted the San Francisco Consulate.
The Consulate, in turn, admitted that a mistake had been made, and that the term should be for one year. They then asked DIM to correct the error. DIM emailed Patricia to let her know that the Itamaraty office in Rio de Janeiro was being instructed to make the necessary changes.
I was filled with joy at this, the best Christmas present ever.
The day after Bethany left, this Wednesday, I dressed up to go to Itamaraty and make the changes. Given that I'm now a battle-scarred veteran, I knew that this wasn't to be a simple process. Oh, I've been in Brazil too long to be that naive.
I note that I dressed up because it's been punishingly hot and humid in Rio this week. The breeze usually doesn't start until noon, and has been almost completely absent as of late. I was soaked in sweat from the minute I got off the bus at the Central train station, two blocks away.
On my Wednesday trip to Itamaraty, I did a poor job of explaining the situation to the official at Consular Affairs. I hadn't slept much the night before, bothered by a lingering fellowship deadline. At first, he assured me that nothing needed to be changed, that, look, although the prazo was for 90 days, the visa was valid for one year! (This same line, which I once accepted at the SF Consulate, started this whole mess. I'm wiser now.) After I protested, he told me that he needed the date in the Diário Oficial da União (the national government's official gazette) in which the change was published. I was baffled, but I dutifully went home and did an online search for my last name in the DOUs of the last year. Nothing appeared.
In despair, I emailed Patricia to ask if she had access to the DOUs. (Free full-text access is free for two issues, then costs R$399 or so for membership.) After lunch, however, I recalled that I lived near the National Library, and so headed over there. I would be looking for a needle in a haystack, but at least I knew where the haystacks were.
I was slightly off; though the National Library has old DOUs, the newest versions are kept at the Finance Ministry's office, five blocks away. I headed over there, and met some helpful librarians who did a search for me. Nothing.
[Mental health break: this story is long and boring. Here's a picture of a statue of Dom Pedro II, the former Emperor, in his summer vacation town:
]
On Thursday, I returned to Itamaraty to point out that my name was to be found nowhere in the DOU, and to ask for a clarification. The same official took my passport this time, with attached email chains, and disappeared into his office. I stood in the quite lovely courtyard, admiring the swans in the fountain and sweating profusely.
He returned thirty minutes later, and said that they were prepared to make a change, but that they needed an official telegram with instructions from DIM. I left, and again emailed Patricia to see if she could ask DIM for a telegram.
Realize that I have a plane ticket and hotel reservation in Salvador set for Tuesday. Salvador, however, does not have an Itamaraty office. I grew a little concerned that these problems wouldn't be resolved before I left Rio, and that I would have to pay to come back for a visit.
Luckily, Patricia forwarded a response from DIM, which noted that they had already sent a telegram on December 24th.
---
So today I went back to Itamaraty, armed with the telegram number. Again I arrived in a sweat.
I presented the new emails, and the telegram number and date, to the same official. He disappeared into the office. While I was waiting, admiring swans, pacing nervously, and wiping sweat from my face, another American showed up.
We chatted a bit. She is a senior from Middlebury, visiting UFF (the federal university in Niteroi where my roommate now has a job) for a year. In her case, the Boston Consulate had entered the wrong code, and had given her a VitemI (visa for researchers) when she really needed a VitemIV (visa for exchange students). She was here to have the code changed, in order to stay for six more months, as the Federal Police had instructed her to do. (VitemI cannot be extended.)
The same official (I think his name was "Mauro;" I know that his boss's name was Cristiana) returned with her passport first. They had a long conversation in which, in sum, Mauro told the girl that there was no evidence that the Boston Consulate had erred, and that she would have to return to the US. She, in exasperation, pled her case. Mauro didn't budge, and she seemed close to tears as she left. I would have consoled her and chatted with her more, but they (both Cristiana and Mauro) immediately returned with my passport.
They said that I had overstayed my visa, and broken the law, and had to leave. I pointed out that I was now here on a tourist visa, and they disappeared into the office.
Ten minutes later, they emerged and Cristiana began by saying "Seu caso é único" ("Your case is unique").
First of all, I shouldn't be in the country on a tourist visa. Americans can only have one valid visa at a time, just as Brazilians can only have one valid visa while visiting the States. When I received the VitemI in San Francisco, the Consulate should have stamped "Cancelled" on my Vitur, my tourist visa. The Vitur is invalid, but the Federal Police didn't recognize this.
Second, they could not extend or modify the VitemI. When I overstayed the VitemI initially, it automatically expired. It doesn't matter that the VitemI says Multiple Entries or Valid for One Year. The VitemI is invalid.
Third, the instructions sent from DIM in Brasilia were made without knowledge that I had overstayed the visa. Had DIM known that I had overstayed the VitemI, they would not have sent the directions. (Cristiana had been on the phone with Brasilia, hence the delay.)
In sum, I don't have a visa to be in Brazil. Yes, I'm writing this from Rio de Janeiro, but only because I managed to inadvertently trick the Federal Police.
The first time I had encountered Cristiana, before the trip to Buenos Aires, she had yelled at me for breaking the law and said there was nothing she could do for me. This time, she was very nice and consolatory. (Mauro stood behind her, but was quiet.) It was a welcome change.
I still hold out hope that either a) the fact that SF Consulate admitted that the prazo should have been a year means that, in theory, I didn't overstay (this is unlikely, given that it's up to the Federal Police to define one's stay in Brazil, regardless of prazo), or b) I can modify the prazo to one year at the SF Consulate, rather than have to apply for a whole new VitemI.
I'm not too agitated. There's no point in being angry or in despair. My main concerns at the moment are the cost of getting back to the States, and the chance that, by leaving the country, I may forfeit the rest of my Fulbright-Hays money. I went afterward to a transportation consultancy to see if I could get access to a study they did for redesigning bus concessions in Mato Grosso. Their air conditioning was broken, which made reading the reports tricky.
If you're a gambler, bet on the fact that I'm going back to San Francisco soon.
At least I'm not here:
Although the building pictured was once a very nice house, it's now the Trauma Center of Petrópolis.
