Tramites

For the end of October/beginning of November, the operative word for us was "Tramite" (pronounced like TRAH-mee-tay).  A tramite is basically a piece of bureaucracy... or a slice of red tape, if you will.  Gotta go to the DMV to renew your driver's license?  That's a tramite.  Need to submit an application for a building permit?  That's a tramite.  Need to submit your application for permanent residency in Costa Rica?  Yep, you guessed it... tramite.

I would like to describe for you now, the big tramite process which I just finished (for now) on November 4th (not necessarily listed in order).

1) Request copy of marriage certificate from the civil registry.  BONUS:  You can actually request this online!  Difficulty:  Person on the phone says we can pick it up "any time after 3pm."   What they fail to mention is... they then close at 4pm.  We arrive at 4:02, and the building is in the middle of a mass exodus like a flooded ant hill.  These people do not work one SECOND past closing time.  Our guess is that they had their coat on, and bags packed by 3:57:57, and then just waited for the instant the clock ticked to flee.  So no, NOT any time after 3.  Because really, it's not likely to be ready right AT 3, and honestly, if you don't get in the door early enough, they probably won't even let you wait in line.  More like... any time between 3:17pm and 3:42pm.  We had to go back another day, but eventually we got this.

2) Get me fingerprinted.  For this, I need to go to the Ministerio de Seguridad, which is fortunately close to us at the local Police Academy.  Despite this convenience, it's still somewhat daunting to enter a facility called the Ministry of Security.  It's even more daunting when that facility is guarded by a dude with an Uzi (yes, an actual Uzi) whose casual stance and ample beer belly doesn't exactly scream out "I HAVE GOOD TRAINING!"  El colmo (the bit that puts it over the top... the cherry on top, or the icing on the cake, as it were) is that I had to do this myself.  Jimena was not allowed in, only the applicant.  I probably could have talked my way in the door with the Spanish I have in my head and the paperwork I had in my bag... but just to make my life easier, I had Jime write me a note.  Gringos tend to get pretty good treatment in general here, but... gringos with notes demonstrating a complete absence of language ability don't even get questioned (assuming they're allowed to be there), because really... what's the point?   After the pat-down, I manage to ask where the line is, and get pointed in the right direction, about 10 feet away.

I have a secret weapon this day, that they didn't tell me about, but Jime managed to discover through a web forum for other gringo expats.  That copy of my marriage certificate we fought for?  I actually needed to have it with me today, or they wouldn't even take my fingerprints.  This is not written anywhere.  It seems if you don't know the right questions to ask, you very often won't get the complete story.  There's another story on that subject, but I'll get to that later.  This day, I came prepared, and they did in fact allow me to have my fingerprints taken.

Amusing side note:  the word for fingerprints is "huellos digitales".  I found out inside the Ministry of Security that "huellos digitales" does NOT in fact mean digital fingerprints.  It just means prints of your digits.  I felt a bit  dumb when I realized that, but hey... at least I figured it out eventually.  At the end of that day, I managed to get my prints done, and even leave the facility without getting shot by an Uzi.  Yay me!

3) Get my documents from the US translated by an official translator.  Jimena did this.  I had almost nothing to do with it, but she got it done.  Not only did she get it done, but... she actually did most of the translating herself, and then managed to find an Official Translator who would charge us less (about half) for the privilege of not having to do all the work herself.  Because this is Costa Rica, we should have expected this next bit, but suffice to say it was a happy surprise.  The Official Translator she found... after making about 20 phone calls and sending out... I dunno... 30 emails?  Yeah... 2 doors down from our house.  Jimena walked over there while I got my fingerprints done.  Costa Rica is the land of coincidence.  We are reminded of this constantly. 

4) Take my officially-printed, notarized, Secretary of State-authenticated, consularized, translated documents to the "Casa Amarilla" which is the informal name of the Ministry of Exterior Relations (the building is yellow) to get them officially accepted and recognized in this country.  For this one, I again went by myself.  This time, Jimena COULD have come with me, but high on my recent success with the Ministry of Security, I felt I was ready to tackle this one myself.  So, I get my official "Note from Jimena", to act as my force field against stupid, unnecessary questions, then caught the bus to downtown and hiked over to the Casa Amarilla.  I took a number, sat down, read a book.  They called me up, I slid them my note like a bank robber; the guy reviewed my documents, then stamp stamp stamp... DONE.  Easy peasy, yes and pleasey. Considering all the previous experiences, I'm left a bit bewildered, and wondering what the hell I missed... but I don't complain.  On this occasion, I decide to take yes for an answer and head home.

5) Get passport photos taken.  This was also easy.  I actually did this on my way to the Fingerprints place, and just had to wait around downtown for a bit until some place in a strip mall opened up.

6) Get a copy made of every page of my passport.  This was easy enough, since there's a copy place about 1 block from our house.  Our house is really close to everything.  It's pretty awesome.  I can walk to damned near everything I need, and what I can't walk to, there's a bus that goes right there, pretty much every time.  Worst case scenario, a cab might charge me $4 (expensive now that they've recently raised their rates since the last time we were here).


7) Go to the Migration office.. and submit my papers!  I will state now for the record that we managed to do this in one day.  I will NOT, however, claim any credit for it.  We bragged all about this on Facebook the day it happened, but the long story short version is... thanks to the diligence and anti-beaucratic superpowers of Jimena, we managed to have ALL the papers we needed, and they ALL got accepted and stamped.  Yes, the process took all day, and did not pass without its share of idiocy.

The form that you have to fill out there... they don't just GIVE it to you.  No, you have to buy it.  That's right... the form you are REQUIRED to fill out, you have to BUY, at which point they give you a damned near illegible copy of a copy of a copy of the form.  Also, you have to buy some stamps ("timbres") to cover some taxes on the process.... but they don't actually sell you the stamps themselves; you have to buy them from the snack cart outside.  Seriously!  That's the only place!

Whatever, it got done.  The next steps are even more beautiful.  When Jime asked what happens next, they said well... you gotta come back around February and ask about the process.  You can't call in, you have to come in (which is about a 45 min to 1 hour trip each way on 2 busses).  The thing is, they won't actually DO anything when you come.  But after that, they'll move your file from one desk to another, and then somebody will process it soon.

Shortly after that, they'll send us a fax saying either that I'm approved, or that I need to bring something else in.  Assuming I'm approved, we go back in a 3rd time (again, picture a 1 hour bus and hike each way), just to make an appointment to come back yet a 4th time, to get my photo taken (and I think fingerprinted again) for my new resident ID.

The local ID here is called a Cedula, and it is NOT a driver's license... it's just an ID card, and everybody here has one.  It's THE national ID card, and they're free... which means they, unlike us in the US, do not have to pay to vote.  My cedula, of course, will not allow me to vote, since it will just be a temporary resident card.  I'll be a resident for a while, and then later I can apply for citizenship in a couple years, and THEN I could vote.  At any rate... ultimately, when the ID is ready, I'll make a 5th trip, but to a different building this time, to pick up the ID.

6) The Caja.  This process proceeded in parallel with the rest, but it is an impressive story by itself.  The Caja is the national health care system.  The fact that it EXISTS is awesome, and the US should be jealous.  The fact that the right wing factions of the government here have stolen so much money from this system as to almost completely cripple it (enough to build 3 new hospitals!) in an effort to deliberately make it WORSE... and thereby make private care look better by comparison, regardless of cost... well... that's not awesome.  It's also sadly something the US would not find unusual in any respect.   All this to say... the Caja is not the most efficient bureaucracy in the world.  I hazard to say it's frankly one of the more impressive ones (in a bad way).  So they, like the US, have a pretty weak system for primary care, but a very solid system for terciary care.  Translation: if you get in a car accident and need surgery, they got you covered... don't even sweat it... and with ZERO cost to the individual.  If you break your arm, they'll get to you eventually.    If you get the flu... well... you can suck it.  I hear chicken soup is nice.

At any rate, I could probably write a whole post just about this one experience, but I think I'll save you the full gory details and just tell you this one bit.  Remember back, about 3 minutes ago, when I mentioned that if you don't know the right questions to ask, you may not get the full answer?  These guys are the ones who spawned that particular thought.

Jime needed to get registered with the Caja, now that she's back and living in this country.  Normally, this would be paid for by a tax in her paycheck.  But since she's still a student, there's no paycheck, so we now pay $22/month to cover her.  Yeah, it really breaks the bank, I know.

The story is this... when Jimena called to ask what papers she needed to bring, they said she needed 2 things, her cedula and her University papers (to prove she was still a student, and not just a slacker).  She verified on the phone ...

"OK, my cedula and my university papers."
"Yes"
"Noting else?"
"Nope"
"So... just two items total... my cedula and my university papers.  Just those TWO items, and nothing else?"


"Right."
"OK, so... I don't need to bring a copy of a utility bill or anything?"
"Oh, well OBVIOUSLY you need a copy of a utility bill."

Are you fucking KIDDING ME?  So, if she hadn't asked SPECIFICALLY if she needed that one thing... she would have been turned away on site.  And, if she hadn't KNOWN to ask if she needed that one thing...just because some other agency had happened to ask for something similar... she wouldn't have found out she needed it until she got there... because of some incompetent idiot who gave out false information... but with VEHEMENCE.

Jimena has learned to take nothing for granted.  Don't believe anything until you've heard it from 3 different people, including a supervisor, and even then, be prepared to get pissed off when even that proves insufficient.

"So... I don't need just two things, but I actually need three things:  my cedula, my university papers, and a utility bill."
"Right."
"OK, and do I need to also bring in a purple monkey?"
"Well, OF COURSE you need to bring in a purple monkey!  That's a given.  Everybody needs a purple monkey! I shouldn't even have to say it.  Honestly, I'm embarrassed for you that you had to ask."

Sigh.  God bless tramites.  Such is life.  And from now on, we will never leave the house without our purple monkey.  Who knows, we might need it to get on bus some day.