Prologue. The magic of nine digits Shortly after arriving in Portugal, we discovered that obtaining a Portuguese tax identification number, or NIF ( Número de Identificação Fiscal ), was essential for practically everything. Renting an apartment, signing up for utilities, opening bank accounts, and completing various administrative procedures all seemed to require this magical nine-digit number. You are even routinely asked whether you want to provide your NIF when shopping for groceries or buying gasoline. If you want to fit in Portugal, apparently you need a NIF. I suppose the practice also helps prevent tax evasion, although I have not entirely figured out how. Fortunately, obtaining a NIF was supposed to be straightforward. All we needed was an appointment at Finanças, the Portuguese tax authority. As foreigners, we had to arrange our appointments through a nationwide booking system. This presented an interesting opportunity. Rather than waiting for an appointment in Coimbra, wh...
With the American midterm elections approaching in November, it was time to exercise my civic duty. As a US citizen temporarily living abroad, this meant preparing our absentee ballots and sending them back to the US. A perfectly ordinary task, or so I thought. I should mention that I have always been fascinated by international mail. I have been sending letters and packages across borders for decades, and I still find something almost magical about the whole process. The idea that I can hand a package to someone in Portugal and have it appear a few days later in the US is genuinely impressive. I get an even greater kick out of receiving packages from abroad, particularly when they contain something someone has personally selected and mailed to me. There is something wonderfully satisfying about objects traveling thousands of miles to reach their intended recipients. For this reason, I generally prefer to send international mail in person. Postal workers usually know their business, un...