Parcels and the Post...

4 days.

4 days of visits to the post office, talking to officials, arguing with officials, yelling at officials.

4 days of emails, of telephone calls, of trips around town.

4 days to track down a package from home that arrived over a week ago.

4 days.

4 days of wasted time, wasted effort, wasted resources.

Last night I finally received a call from the post office; my package had arrived, come and get it in the next 20 minutes... so off I go, hailing an auto-rickshaw (I refuse to call them CNGs), fighting traffic, arriving in 19 minutes... only to be told there is tax to be paid on my package...

Why?  No one can tell me.

Says who?  Bangladesh Customs.

So 4 days and 40 minutes later (I spent another 20 minutes arguing yelling at everyone in sight) I finally gave in, paid the fee and took my package home...

So worth it.

Opening the package was like a scene from an old Biblical movie; light shone from the box, angels sang, small animals perched around me in anticipation... Elizabeth is going to give me so much grief if she reads this...

Filled to the brim with glorious breakfast and muesli bars, nuts, raisins and all kind of goodies, the package really made my day... and Jez's too, I believe; those throat soothers came right on time, didn't they buddy?

Now I nervously await my textbooks... I hope the exemption for books still exists, you never quite know when rules have been changed around here...

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Comments

Unknown said…
yayy i was mentioned in your blog. haha this is not what i would make fun of - i shed a silent tear when i get a good package. but the dying children that you heroically save with your bare hands while running through fire, commenting on politics, and keeping it real with sports.. THAT i'll make fun of. ;) with much love of course.

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