Since I'm back in São Paulo, I figured it was fitting to write a little post(-move) post.
I arrived yesterday and made a quick stop at Polícia Federal at Guarulhos airport on the off chance they could stamp my protocolo (temporary identification) with a six-month extension--the reason for this quick trip. No dice.
Thanks to my thoughtful landlord, Dona Maria, I settled in to my beloved Pinheiros apartment (which brought about a simultaneous surge of pleasure and melancholy). I crashed mid-afternoon for about four hours, which means my schedule was out-of-whack and my daily espresso was taken too late. When I eventually fell asleep again, this caused a surreal and vivid dream that, as a result of my recent string of nose bleeeds, I was going to require an ear transplant. It was very upsetting in my sleep but I was able to laugh about it in the morning.
A few hours later I ate my habitual mango followed by a tall, fresh-squeezed orange juice and a double espresso at Quitanda, and set out for the Federal Police headquarters in Lapa. Watching the sights from the bus window during the 45-minute ride, I was reminded of my first days in Brazil, when, having nothing but time, the trappings of bureaucracy didn't trouble me. In fact, they were kinda entertaining.
I was only at the DPF for 30 minutes, all told. The good news is that, contrary to the response to my recent status inquiry, my new Cédula de Identidade de Estrangeiro card has been printed. The bad news is that it is at the Polícia Federal in Curitiba, Paraná--255 miles away. That is weird since I'm registered as a São Paulo resident, completed all of my paperwork here, and have, in fact, never been to Paraná (unless you count the time I used the bathroom at the rest stop on an all-night bus trip from Porto Alegre to São Paulo).
I didn't really care though, in fact I found it humorous on account of the sunshine. And since I've lived in Brazil long enough to have the jeitinho (a little detour around a problem) down pat, I had two strategies to obtain the card in place before I walked out the door of the DPF.
Time for a siesta, then a couple beers with Dona Maria and Eduardo. I have a 3:30 taxi, a 4am bus to Campinas, and a 7am flight to Porto Alegre.
But before I go, for old times sake...
Remember "Fight Fitness"? Here's another one:
On the basement floor of Shopping Eldorado, there's a tiny shop that sells shoelaces and polish. The name seems a bit over the top:
"Shoe Shop of The Future!"
Tchau, São Paulo. I still totally love you, but our relationship... it's complicated.