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.
