A last time about karma

Sintra

Maybe I should shut up already...

But the next story might be of some interest. And it talks about my new favorite subject : karma.

So let's start where we left it : the lost luggages.

After a night without my luggages, I put on my only underwears, the same smelly socks, to try to get my visa for brazil. All I have is the address of the consulate. And a confidence which is not doing too well.

Because we'll say the truth : probabilities are against me. Not only because of my socks. It takes about 10 working days to get a visa for Brazil. At least in other countries. About Portugal, I found nothing on the "simple" consulate website. All I know is I'm supposed to fly in seven working days.

I get there around 10 AM. The place is full like the hospital waiting room. And as chaotic. I end up getting, from the security guard, who doesn't speak english, that the visa requests must be handed on the second floor.

There, the room is full too. There are people with numbers. People waiting for I don't know what. I don't know what to do in that confusion.

I go back down and the security guard, still unable to answer my questions, send me to the information desk. The line is long and moves slowly.

After some sights (because it takes a long time and it's hot in Portugal with jeans on), the woman behind me talks to me. She understands english but hardly speaks it. I tell her I wish the woman at the desk speaks or at least understands english.

We start chatting. She looks unsure when I tell her my flight is booked for next Wednesday, even if I don't have my visa yet. Thanks for the encouragement.

My turn.

Like I anticipated, the very not sympathetic woman at the desk doesn't speak english. She gives me a piece of paper, circling words in portuguese and she calls the next client. Thanks for the compassion, Miss!

Except the woman behind me won't let that happen. Oh no! Oh, hell no! Because she's a lawyer.

She gets next to me and explains I needed an appointement to hand my visa request. Me, I don't have an appointement, because I didn't find that information in a language I could understand, even if I made some researches.

The lawyer tells me to follow her. Together, we go up to the next floor and she asks to talk with someone in charge, explaining my situation. What helps is that I already filled all the papers needed for my request (one of them was a form online).

After a serious discussion, the man says I can get to the desk in ten minutes.

That is when the lawyer, whose name I didn't even get to ask, hugs me and leaves wishing me luck. I hope she'll ask for the beer or the meal I owe her one day, if she ever finds me back.

At the desk, the woman offers me the face of the day, the one saying "sorry, can't do anything", when she finds out I have no appointement. But I'm not moving. I repeat I was told to wait there. I haven't sweat in my only clothes, in a room without any fresh air, to be shown the door two hours later.

It worked. A little cooperation.

Forms filled, I was told my visa would be ready... in two days!

Haaaaaalllllelujah! (Can you hear the bells?)

Yes, yes, yes, I went two days later and the visa was ready. Going to Brazil on Wednesday! Who said it was complicated to get that visa for Brazil?

In the mean time, karma caught me for that big luck. My fifth sunglasses, bought right when I walked out of the consulate, did beat a mediocrity record by commiting suicide less than 24 hours after the beginning of our relation. Direction : trash!

The king is dead, long live the king! I now am wearing my sixth sunglasses. Wish me luck!