Since CFE made that momentous change from #1A to #1, and the most recent bill had the number without the letter, my newly renewed motorcycle driver’s license had to be changed to match.
So we went back to the Oficina Reginal de Movilidad de Moroleon and talked to the only guy working that morning. He asked for a copy of the new CFE receipt and that was it. We went around the block for the copy and came back. By that time, the sole employee was nearly overrun with people and we had a bit of a wait.
Finally, he called me over and gave me the paper to go and pay for the new license. We headed to Farmacias Guadalajara and paid $196 pesos for a change of address transaction. Then we waited some more.
Eventually, it was my turn. Reinforcements had arrived and a lady was manning the license issuing computer. When I approached the desk, she wanted to see my IFE. I said I didn’t have an IFE. She said she wanted my migratory documentation then. OK. I pulled out my permanent residency card. She said she needed a copy of it.
I tried twice to explain that I was here for a license address change, but she wouldn’t even let me finish my sentences. Remembering that I had my folder with all my medical papers with me, I started going through those, certain I had a copy of my permanent residency card in there. A few seconds later I was waving the copy around in triumphant.
Apparently the lady behind the desk didn’t share in my triumph and all that paper shuffling offended her. She said that there was no reason for me to be angry with her, scolding me as if I were a misbehaving child. I looked at my husband in confusion as she continued on her tirade about how I needed to be in the country legally and blah blah. My husband said that I wasn’t irritated. I repeated that I wasn’t irritated only I didn’t understand why I needed to show this documentation when I was just getting the address changed. I renewed my license less than a month ago.
So she looked at my application. She called the other guy over. He patted her shoulder and said he forgot to tell her it was a change of address request. Then, she asked me if I was changing the address from #1A to #1. I said yes. She asked again, like she couldn’t believe it. Yes, that was the address change. I didn’t elaborate. I didn’t want to rile her up anymore.
After doing some typing and fiddling on the computer, she turned to my husband and asked if he was with me. He was. She gave him my previous license and told him to go and make a copy of it so she could put it in the file. So he did. I waited.
When he came back, she didn’t seem inclined to take the paper from my hand. So the other guy came from the other end of the office, took the copy and placed it with my pile of documents at her desk. Eventually, she came to the counter with my new license which I took, thanked her, and left. Whew!
Next stop, back to the Oficina Recaudadora for another attempt at registering my moto.