It was my mother’s birthday and I was all organised ready to post the present for it to get there on time. This was something of a miracle for me – I can’t even manage that when I’m at home!
So, Thea and I go along to the local post office at lunchtime only to be told we’ll have to go to the main post office in town. So, running out of time (it was a 15 min walk to start with) we hail a tuk tuk and 5 minutes later we’re standing in the queue. I say “queue” but it’s quite a different system over there. Nobody queues, they just barge in ahead of you. If you’re not fast, you’re most definitely last in Sri Lanka.
So elbows at the ready, I eventually find myself at the front and hand over the parcel.
“This is the stamp counter, not the weighing counter” they tell me before directing me to “queue” number 2!
“Q” no 2 is worse, and I’m duked (Scots word for overtaken in an unsporting manner) several times before I finally hand parcel over to “weigher” who duly weighs it and tells me I need 600 rupees in stamps. “Fine” I say as I hand over my money. The fact that it’s dirt cheap does not in any way make up for what happens next.
“This is the weighing counter, not the stamp counter” he tells me “you must go back to the stamp queue for your stamps” before moving onto the next 12 people now at the front of the “queue”!
Thea decides to sit down at this point and who can blame her. As I stand in the stamp “queue” (aka “Q” no 3) I think how much nicer it would be if some of the fans were turned on occasionally in this sweltering heat. And I agree with myself that it might help to quell my fury at people shoving their way in in front of me. I also observe my changing attitude – I used to smile politely at this – now, my glare appears to be frightening grown men!! Ah well, whatever works!
Anyway so there I am, I buy my stamps (eventually) and head back to “Q” no 4 to hand over weighed parcel and stamps. Tuk tuk driver who’s been waiting for us all this time (about 30 mins so far) decides to come in and help me make sense of it all and informs me that I can duke this queue because my parcel’s been weighed. Marvellous, but it’s still not in my nature. Ah, b***er it, you can fight nature.
You can fight nature but can you fight red tape? No, it seems.
“You’ve wrapped your parcel” the guy tells me (like I didn’t know that) on this, our second meeting. If it was important I’m sure he’d have mentioned it when I got to the front of “queue” no 2, rather than wait till I got to “queue” no 4. “Yes” I smile smugly “and I’m posting it on time, my mother will be very pleased with my efficiency so I hope your’s isn’t going to let her down”!!
I was hoping in vain. It WAS important. It’s quite important, apparently, that you DON’T wrap parcels before posting them.
“What if you’ve got a bomb in there?” he asks me.
“Why would I send my mother a bomb for her birthday?” I almost cry out loud, suddenly realising why people frequently add “for crying out loud” to sentences.
Perhaps if they had bothered to turn the fans on and if I wasn’t about to expire in the heat, I might have listened to their reasoning but I didn’t. I just followed orders and unwrapped it to show them there was no bomb. Now my wrapping is not exactly artistic, more thorough. Therefore when you unwrap a parcel of mine, you’re not going to be able to keep the paper unless it’s for a paper mache project!
So my parcel’s approved, it’s been weighed, I’ve got the stamps, I just can’t post it because the paper’s ruined!!! Aaaargh.
“I’ve had enough” I’m almost yelling. “I will walk home to Scotland and deliver it myself” I proclaim. No, I’m not kidding, I know it’s not like me but I was hot, I’d been in there nearly an hour, Thea was lying under the counter by this point, the tuk tuk driver’s smiling broadly at how much he’s gonna charge me for the waiting time and I’m very very late for work – AND the fans were off. So, I had a bit of a tantrum and that’s when they decided to help. But only if I came away from the public bit into a side room where they could calm me down.
I was anything but calm but after checking the side room for strait jackets, I followed them in and a very nice man carefully (and slowly) rewrapped the parcel for me. Seeing as he was trying to help I gritted my teeth and resigned myself to waiting yet another ten excruciatingly long minutes and didn’t complain. After all, my ordeal was nearly at an end.
Or so I thought!
Talk about groundhog day. I got to the front of the “weighing” “queue” whereupon they weighed the parcel again and proceeded to tell me that due to the weight of the additional paper, I would need to get myself into the (expletive) stamp “queue” again and buy more stamps!!!
Can you believe that?
“Don’t worry” says the tuk tuk driver “once you’ve done that you can go back to the other queue and they will post your parcel – simple!”
“Simple”???
One hour and twenty minutes we spent in that post office being pushed from pillar to post. My mother’s present didn’t even arrive on time, it got there the next day. And my niece whose birthday was a few days later – well she just had to make do with a card until I got home because there was NO WAY I was doing all that again!
I am posting the photograph of me despite the face being make up free and the hair being all over the place because I think it sums up the exasperation of the day!
So, Thea and I go along to the local post office at lunchtime only to be told we’ll have to go to the main post office in town. So, running out of time (it was a 15 min walk to start with) we hail a tuk tuk and 5 minutes later we’re standing in the queue. I say “queue” but it’s quite a different system over there. Nobody queues, they just barge in ahead of you. If you’re not fast, you’re most definitely last in Sri Lanka.
So elbows at the ready, I eventually find myself at the front and hand over the parcel.
“This is the stamp counter, not the weighing counter” they tell me before directing me to “queue” number 2!
“Q” no 2 is worse, and I’m duked (Scots word for overtaken in an unsporting manner) several times before I finally hand parcel over to “weigher” who duly weighs it and tells me I need 600 rupees in stamps. “Fine” I say as I hand over my money. The fact that it’s dirt cheap does not in any way make up for what happens next.
“This is the weighing counter, not the stamp counter” he tells me “you must go back to the stamp queue for your stamps” before moving onto the next 12 people now at the front of the “queue”!
Thea decides to sit down at this point and who can blame her. As I stand in the stamp “queue” (aka “Q” no 3) I think how much nicer it would be if some of the fans were turned on occasionally in this sweltering heat. And I agree with myself that it might help to quell my fury at people shoving their way in in front of me. I also observe my changing attitude – I used to smile politely at this – now, my glare appears to be frightening grown men!! Ah well, whatever works!
Anyway so there I am, I buy my stamps (eventually) and head back to “Q” no 4 to hand over weighed parcel and stamps. Tuk tuk driver who’s been waiting for us all this time (about 30 mins so far) decides to come in and help me make sense of it all and informs me that I can duke this queue because my parcel’s been weighed. Marvellous, but it’s still not in my nature. Ah, b***er it, you can fight nature.
You can fight nature but can you fight red tape? No, it seems.
“You’ve wrapped your parcel” the guy tells me (like I didn’t know that) on this, our second meeting. If it was important I’m sure he’d have mentioned it when I got to the front of “queue” no 2, rather than wait till I got to “queue” no 4. “Yes” I smile smugly “and I’m posting it on time, my mother will be very pleased with my efficiency so I hope your’s isn’t going to let her down”!!
I was hoping in vain. It WAS important. It’s quite important, apparently, that you DON’T wrap parcels before posting them.
“What if you’ve got a bomb in there?” he asks me.
“Why would I send my mother a bomb for her birthday?” I almost cry out loud, suddenly realising why people frequently add “for crying out loud” to sentences.
Perhaps if they had bothered to turn the fans on and if I wasn’t about to expire in the heat, I might have listened to their reasoning but I didn’t. I just followed orders and unwrapped it to show them there was no bomb. Now my wrapping is not exactly artistic, more thorough. Therefore when you unwrap a parcel of mine, you’re not going to be able to keep the paper unless it’s for a paper mache project!
So my parcel’s approved, it’s been weighed, I’ve got the stamps, I just can’t post it because the paper’s ruined!!! Aaaargh.
“I’ve had enough” I’m almost yelling. “I will walk home to Scotland and deliver it myself” I proclaim. No, I’m not kidding, I know it’s not like me but I was hot, I’d been in there nearly an hour, Thea was lying under the counter by this point, the tuk tuk driver’s smiling broadly at how much he’s gonna charge me for the waiting time and I’m very very late for work – AND the fans were off. So, I had a bit of a tantrum and that’s when they decided to help. But only if I came away from the public bit into a side room where they could calm me down.
I was anything but calm but after checking the side room for strait jackets, I followed them in and a very nice man carefully (and slowly) rewrapped the parcel for me. Seeing as he was trying to help I gritted my teeth and resigned myself to waiting yet another ten excruciatingly long minutes and didn’t complain. After all, my ordeal was nearly at an end.
Or so I thought!
Talk about groundhog day. I got to the front of the “weighing” “queue” whereupon they weighed the parcel again and proceeded to tell me that due to the weight of the additional paper, I would need to get myself into the (expletive) stamp “queue” again and buy more stamps!!!
Can you believe that?
“Don’t worry” says the tuk tuk driver “once you’ve done that you can go back to the other queue and they will post your parcel – simple!”
“Simple”???
One hour and twenty minutes we spent in that post office being pushed from pillar to post. My mother’s present didn’t even arrive on time, it got there the next day. And my niece whose birthday was a few days later – well she just had to make do with a card until I got home because there was NO WAY I was doing all that again!
I am posting the photograph of me despite the face being make up free and the hair being all over the place because I think it sums up the exasperation of the day!
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