I got married recently and decided to change my name. I actually did it in two stages to include my grandfather’s name as well as my husband’s. I need to do two documents: my ID card (Registro Geral – RG) and my driving licence. To do this, I need to go to the local office where they do both things. I HATE this place; every time I go there, I have some kind of issue (mostly due to being born abroad and having an accent, but I was born Brazilian). The first step is to make the appointment.

My husband and I look everywhere for an option saying something about updating documents after marriage, and we find nothing. We can’t even find one for updating the ID card; we just find the one for the driving licence. Thinking it will do as we want to do both at the same time, we book that, cross our fingers, and wait a week.

We arrive with all the documents we think we need and show our slot, explaining that I need to update my name after getting married. I show the woman at the front desk my RG and driving licence with the marriage certificate. She tsks at us.

Employee: “Well, you need an updated RG to do the driving licence. As you booked the driving licence, you need to rebook.”

It is the same people doing all the jobs; it’s not like I need to go to different departments. It is the same system and same people. We are shocked to learn this, and the begging begins.

We tell her we are sorry, we made a mistake, and there was nowhere that said we need to do the documents in a certain order online (we checked). We ask if she could please give us a ticket with the correct number as we still have an appointment with them (even if it states the wrong reason).

Employee: “No. You need to rebook. The next appointment is available in two days.”

Us: “Why? It is the same people. Can you just amend the booking? We will be seeing the same person — theoretically.”

She is adamant and walks us over to start booking a new appointment while telling us off about wasting one. She gets us to the correct screen and then just walks off. Utterly confused, we go back and ask what is going on. To get rid of us, she sends us to the manager.

Now picture this guy; he is in a government job where he doesn’t think about anything, just pushes the paper around. We arrive and perfectly politely explain the situation, saying we made a mistake, but we are here now, and could he please, please, please just amend our appointment reason so we can get this done? I cannot describe the vacant look on his face as he replies.

Manager: “But you booked it for your driving licence. You need to update your RG first. You need a new appointment.”

And round and round we go in circles. He tells us off for wasting an appointment while asking us why we didn’t book one. We decide to try another tack:

Me: “Okay, let’s imagine I did book an appointment for my RG. The person helping us at the desk isn’t assigned to that role specifically; they just do them in the order they arrive. So isn’t it possible that it could be same person as if I were to go in for changing my licence?”

I can see the wheels turning in this guy’s head before he comes back with:

Manager: “But you didn’t make an appointment for your RG. You made an appointment for your driving licence — which you can’t do as you don’t have an updated RG.”

Twenty minutes of pleading later, he gives us a new appointment number and sends us back to reception with permission to jump the intake queue.

And so we check in and wait, thinking, “We won the battle.”

This is when the confusion starts again. The employee asks for the marriage certificate and my RG, which I give over. She then starts to input the data. Then comes the news:

Employee: “We need to call the state police and have them give permission to issue a RG as you were born abroad.”

My mouth drops open at this. I have already gone through that process, but I was told that it was a one-time thing. They say not to worry; it shouldn’t take long. I am disheartened and try to explain that I am registered in Brazil but just in Brasília, but it doesn’t matter. I was born abroad, and they tell me that every time I will need to renew my ID, I will need permission to do so (even though I was born Brazilian and, in theory, the same as everyone else).

We go off to wait while they send an email. Thirty minutes later, we get called back. The woman smiles at us and says our request was denied. Without thinking, I say:

Me: “They refused me a new RG because I got married?”

She then gives me a confused look.

Employee: “No, you asked to change your birthplace.”

While I would if I could at this point, I know it is impossible. Somehow, our asking about how my birthplace changes things became the request, not to update my name. We explain to her that I am just updating my RG, so I need a new one. Apparently, I just need permission to get one due to where I was born. She says she will see to it personally that the request goes through correctly.

And we wait again. Again, it takes about thirty minutes before I am called up to say it can go through. They ask me to check my details, and I will need a new picture and my fingerprints taken again.

The employee immediately talks about how the girl behind us mucked up the request and it isn’t her fault. At this point, I don’t care; maybe it wasn’t your fault, but don’t just try to shift it. I’ve been here for nearly two hours for something I thought would take ten minutes.

She sees I’m annoyed and comes out with this final gem:

Employee: “This is just how it is for foreigners.”

This is after the woman has seen my two Brazilian birth certificates (with the old and new names) both stating that I am born Brazilian, not naturalized. I just look at her and finish the interaction by saying.

Me: “I am Brazilian.”

I’m an American tourist in Brazil. My husband and I checked into a hotel room. When we got there, there was a puddle on the floor of the bathroom and the sink was dripping.

We asked management to move us to another room.

The new room seemed fine at first, though smaller than the old one. In the middle of the night, the ceiling fan started dripping. Then, it started gushing, like a pipe had broken over it. It was pouring water down onto the bed and onto my husband and me. We were very fortunate that the water didn’t splash onto the desk and wet our laptops, which we both used for work.

We asked again to be moved to another room.

The manager was fairly flummoxed and wanted to see the new leak with his own eyes. He didn’t quite understand how this had happened twice. He kept telling us, “Sirs, this never has happened before,” and, “I am so very sorry this happened to both of you, sirs.”

Together with the manager, we opened the door of the new room. As we opened the door, the ceiling fell in and water started gushing onto the floor. “You are cursed by God,” the manager said. “Get out. We’ll refund you your whole stay. But get out.”

So, we called our travel company, and they booked us another room at a different hotel at no extra charge. The new hotel didn’t leak at all.

My fiancé and I are getting married and organising the final details. His normal suit is getting a bit old, and I suggest that he rent one as it is an important day. (Plus, then he can have something different.) I’m not with him, but this is what he tells me afterward.

He goes to a suit rental place, and the guy in the shop asks him what he needs a suit for.

Fiancé: “It’s for a wedding; I’m just a guest.”

After some who-ing and ha-ing, he finds one he likes.

Employee: “There is a waistcoat that goes with it, but that’s normally only for the groom or best man so you don’t overshadow them.”

My fiancé says it’s fine and gets it. As he is paying, the shop guy makes this statement.

Employee: “You know, I rented this exact suit to a groom the other day for R$800.”

The price my fiancé paid to get married in the same suit was R$480 — 40% less.

Never mention that you are getting married in any shop.

My grandmother fell ill, and as we were both between jobs at that time, my boyfriend and I volunteered to look after her. She has two cats, one of which loves human company; the other doesn’t. My boyfriend is a self-confessed dog person while I am a crazy cat lady.

Night #1: the human-loving cat made herself at home by my feet, and I begged my boyfriend to let her stay as we fell asleep. He said no at first, but he changed his mind when I said he could chuck her out if she caused a problem. We went to sleep with no issues.

Night #2: the human-loving cat wasn’t with us at first, but I asked my boyfriend to keep the door open so she could join us if she wanted. He reluctantly agreed when I pointed out that she hadn’t caused any issues the night before. 

Night #3: my boyfriend was looking confused as we went to bed. He told me he was looking for the “puss puss” as he wouldn’t be able to sleep without her. I busted a gut laughing.

About six months later, we got our own cat who my boyfriend regularly talks to and spoils rotten. He is now a cat person. Occasionally, he will refer to my grandmother’s cat and me as “witches” for “casting a spell on him”. I always point out that it’s all her fault. I didn’t do anything, literally. I wouldn’t even shut the door to keep the cat out.

My fiancé and I are in the process of getting married. To do that here, we need to get a marriage licence, for which we need to prove that we are single. This licence is given by the notary office, and everyone hates them. Why? Because they are a market reserve; there is only one in your area, and you can only do the applications in that office.

One thing to know is that I am legally born Brazilian, but I was born and raised in England. The only reason you would know this is either my accent or the fact that my birth certificate states “England” as my place of birth. I cannot have a Brazilian birth certificate without being born Brazilian, and there are different government IDs for Brazilians and foreign residents. Therefore, it is clear that I am, in fact, Brazilian despite a few quirks.

We decide to get married at my grandmother’s house, so we go to the notary office in her area, informing them of the date and time of the wedding and asking for the licence. They then ask if we live in the same area. We don’t, so they inform us that we need to receive our licence from the office in charge of the area we live in.

I’ve also been wanting to include my mother’s maiden name in mine for a while, and I always wanted to change it in Brazil when I get married to reduce the number of times I need to change documents. At the second office, I apply both for the marriage licence and to get my name changed. The staff there are fine with it, knowing that I will just have to resubmit the intention to marry but no other documents as the confirmation of my identity and marital status won’t change.

Then comes the first additional cost: to prove that you have never been married in Brazil, you have to present your birth certificate. After that, you have your marriage certificate with any notes on subsequent divorces and marriages if required. Because my birth certificate is registered in Brasília (a two-day journey away), we opt to get both of ours electronically as the physical ones can only be issued in the physical location (requiring you to be physically there). Officially, there is no difference between the physical and electronic copy.

Of course, when we present the electronic copy, the notary office won’t accept them as they only accept physical copies. However, they can print off a physical copy and use that in their processes! For a price, of course. We can’t go anywhere else, so we have to swallow this cost.

Apart from a few typos, the application is sorted after that. About a week later, we are informed that my name change has gone through, and we just need to sign the new application before they will issue our licence (which will include my new name). Hurray. We just need to take it to the previous office for them to be able to perform the ceremony.

So, we return to the first one and present the licence… only to be told that they need to reissue the application for the licence “for their records”. This seems odd, but again, what can you do? They are the only people we can deal with. So, all the guy needs to do is copy out the information on the marriage licence as all the information needs to be confirmed for it to have been issued.

Except the idiot we get stuck with decides it’s all wrong. For me, he decides that, despite my having a Brazilian ID and birth certificate, my accent and place of birth mean I must be English. He also ignores the name on the application and on the newly-issued birth certificate presented to him and goes with the name on my ID (which clearly hasn’t been updated yet)… which he also misspells. I should say, I get it. It’s unusual, especially in the smallish city I’m in, so I don’t mind explaining how I’m Brazilian if asked. I just hate bureaucrats telling me I’m not Brazilian as I’ve been told a lot, “You’re not a true Brazilian.”

Because of the confusion, he needs to talk to his supervisor. Luckily, she accepts the changes… after about thirty minutes of looking at my documents and discussion. We are then given a bill for “due diligence to check our documentation”. We argue that was never needed as we did that at the other office. Their response is, “Well, it wasn’t us, and if you don’t pay, you can’t get married in this municipality.” Remember, they first told us we had to go there.

Without any choice, we pay.

Luckily, that should be the last time we have to interact with the Brazilian bureaucracy before getting married. We’ve both agreed that we will never get divorced so we don’t have to repeat this hassle, even if we hate each other.