I'm very sorry. I'm a stupid American!

What happens when you try to move countries quickly

Sep 29, 2024

“We're gonna get it, get it together right now. Gonna get it, get it together somehow.”
UP & UP by Coldplay

Dear Reader,

The piece of paper in my hand had a story on it.

It started with, “Good day. I’m very sorry. I’m a stupid American.”

Which, in Portuguese reads, “Bom dia. Lamento muito. Sou um americana estúpido.”

I handed it to the guard.

He was in charge of the front door at the small clinic/hospital in Bombarral, Portugal.

You can’t get past him without his approval.

He read my story, looked at me, laughed, and then took me by the arm and guided me to a glassed area with a waiting room down the corridor.

On either side of the window were maps of the world with various diseases shaded in across countries.

I gathered this was to tell me where I could get sick with dengue fever or malaria or some other horrible disease.

“Vacinação,” the guard explained to the woman with white and gray hair and sympathetic eyes behind the glass and gestured to me.

I slipped the piece of paper with my story on it underneath the glass to her.

And then more documents that confirmed my story.

Then she locked eyes with me and I cried.

Now, just to be clear, I was prepared to cry, but I didn’t expect to cry right at that moment.

I don’t normally cry on demand.

But, I was feeling like crying, and my Portuguese friend said that if I did cry, it might, just might, help me get the vaccination for Yellow Fever that I needed to have to fly out of Portugal in 10 days.

In hesitant English the woman said to me, “Let me get the nurse,” then gestured kindly for me to sit down next to my friend Megan.

We were the only two people in the waiting room.

Megan, also a recent immigrant to Portugal, only from South Africa, wasn’t at all concerned about my tears.

She understood.

Just the day before she sent me a message asking if I knew any Portuguese citizens who would be willing to attest in writing that she was my neighbor and lived where she lived because she had to prove her residency with the Portuguese authorities.

I gave her my landlord’s WhatsApp contact information and introduced them.

Then asked her if she would drive me to the hospital the next day since I don’t have a car.

She kindly agreed.

On the drive we compared notes about stressing over paperwork, only to have things be either much easier or much harder than expected.

We agreed that being an immigrant is all about taking each step, without knowing how it’s going to turn out, since it’s not our culture, not our system, and nothing seems predictable like it was where we came from.

“So this morning,” I told her. “I just had this deep peace about it all.”

“I told the Universe/God, listen, if this is supposed to happen it’s got to happen this morning, and it’s got to be easy.”

“I’m not running around Lisbon all afternoon trying to get vaccinated. If this works this morning I’ll go to Africa. If not, I’m going home to the U.S.”

I had decided to leave the situation I was in all up to something/someone greater than me because it felt too big for me.

Maybe I should explain?

When I last wrote you a letter I was just coming back to Portugal from a two week trip to Costa Rica after getting a new client who is based there.

My husband Doug went back to the U.S. at the same time to visit family in Colorado.

While I was in Costa Rica we made the decision for his health (and others) that he should stay in the U.S. and I would join him as soon as I could.

So, that meant in three weeks I needed to end our apartment lease in Portugal at Bom Sucesso Resort (a golf resort north of Lisbon populated mostly by expats), move out, end contracts, sell our e-bikes, and also close business for new clients.

I am a freelance business developer for online businesses, which I love, but it is a lot of responsibility.

And … to cap it all off … I needed to get 2023 taxes done because I filed an extension in the spring because of the move to Portugal.

Just a few things to do!

Then … it gets worse.

While finishing up my taxes, I realized something important.

If I went back to the U.S. right now I would likely be paying thousands of dollars in taxes in 2025.

My accountant confirmed this.

Just to be clear, no matter where you live in the world, you have to file your taxes with the U.S. each year as a U.S. citizen and still pay them.

But if you live out of country for 330 days or more a year there can be some significant federal income tax benefits (as in paying $0 tax instead of $10k-$20k).

Not to bore you with the details, but I have only been in the U.S. for eight days thus far this year.

Doug’s health was improving and he was safely with family, so I said yes to a friend and client who offered me a place to stay with her in Africa (Ivory Coast).

I also had an offer from a friend in New Zealand, but it’s a hell-of-a-long-way-away and a million time zones from Portugal, whereas the Ivory Coast is in my same time zone and my client and I are working on a big project together at the moment.

All good reasons to go.

But … in order to get to her I needed to be vaccinated for Yellow Fever in two days (they require you to be vaccinated at least 10 days in advance of entering the country) and it wasn’t as simple as I thought it would be.

Of course, it wasn’t.

This isn’t my country.

I sent a text SOS to a Portuguese friend asking for help, and she immediately found the centers closest to me where I could get vaccinated.

The only problem?

I didn’t have an appointment.

And when I emailed one clinic they said the next appointment available was in late November!

So my friend said to go the next day, beg, use Bambi eyes, and see what I could do.

Here’s the actual advice she texted me: “In the USA you have the film industry, but also the stiff upper lip culture. Here, some ‘despair’ goes a long way, also showing that the person before you can ‘save’ you, help you, whatever. It's not hypocrisy, it's practical sense. Once you get what you need, thank profusely. No tipping, ok?”

This was exactly what I did.

The nurse came and got me. Explained that I needed a prescription for the vaccine.

I did a video call while I was there with a Portuguese doctor through my private health insurance, got a prescription in five minutes, and was vaccinated within the next 30 minutes.

I thanked her and everyone who helped me profusely and promised to wear my sunscreen, my mosquito repellant, and buy loose fitting white clothes.

Then I got home in time to go to work.

Couldn’t have been easier!

The vaccination didn’t even hurt or give me a fever.

The Universe spoke.

I leave for the Ivory Coast next Saturday.

Wish me luck!

Love,

Janelle

P.S. This should explain why I haven’t been in touch for a while. Also if you have sent me encouraging emails and I haven’t replied, please know that I have read them, felt your love, and sent love back but haven’t been able to reply. All of your comments, love, and support are much appreciated. Thank you!

P.P.S. I will be back in Portugal … in December … and there are lots more adventures to come. I will be writing from Africa. Stay tuned.