i'm told there's only one post office in kampala...seems odd when you realize that the population of kampala must exceed 5 million. i know my first reaction was "boy, it's going to be really busy." wrong.....no one goes there because it is sheer torture! waiting for a package, oh, excuse me, a parcel to arrive? yes, well, don't call them or attempt to check on your parcel because you will be told: "we'll call you when it arrives, it could take 4 or 5 weeks." amazingly, a very pleasant person does call you and insists that you pick up your parcel prompty (there isn't any mail delivery...ugandans simply do not get mail). hmm..drive to the post office and wait at the closed gate while a guard checks your vehicle for explosives, asks why you are there (uh-huh....it's hard not to give a smart alecky answer) and makes you complete a guest register book. (what year is this and when was the last time you did this anywhere other than a fun place like a state park or a funeral?) you are told you have 30 minutes....well surely that will be plenty of time. WRONG! you enter a reception area, wait in line and someone asks why you are there.
Me: i need to pick up a parcel, here is the custom's number.
Him: are you sure it's here?
Me: yes, someone phoned me yesterday.
Him..click.click,click on the keyboard....yes, it's here. i need to see your passport and you need to complete your personal information in the registry book.....i am thinking AGAIN?
Him: you need to go along the front of the building, around the side, up the stairs and in through the door that says 'parcels'.
i am thinking Hmm, that's going to be a long way to carry my "parcel" back to the car....oh well, here goes....along, around, up and through into another reception area.
ask a man behind a screen "where do i get my parcel?'
Him: get in that line.....wait.....
Her: go back to the line you were in.
Him: did you sign the registry book downstairs?
Me: yes.
Him : did you sign the registry book downstairs?
Me: yes. Him: you signed the book?
Me: yes.
Him: ok, what's the custom's number?
i give him the number and he is in and out and back and forth for 20 minutes.
Him: what color is the box?
Me: hahaha....are you serious? i don't know but it weighs 14 kilos.
Him: 14 kilos? hmph!
off he goes again and finally returns with a box and sets it on the counter.
Her: you have to pay 120,000 shillings if you want this box.
Me: why? Her: it's worth $97.
Me: we have already paid $184 in postage and now you are wanting to tax me another $50 for toothbrushes to give to the kids in orphanages?
Her: yes.
Me: does that seem fair?
Her: yes, it does.
Me: no, it is not fair, why are you punishing people who are trying to help your children? why are you punishing the children?
Her: 120,000 shillings....you need to go to the bank, pay and get a voucher and return it and i will give you the parcel.
Me: NO! here's your money....i am not going to the bank, i am not getting a voucher, i am not wasting any more time here.
Her: you will not get a receipt if you don't do it our way.
Me: seriously, do i look like i care?
Her: i don't know, but you will have to complete the information in the registry book before you can take your parcel......
Me: of course i do! out the door, down the stairs, along the side, around to the front, out the door, into the car and wait for the guard to let us out of the parking lot.
elapsed time: 1 hour 10 minutes.
Me to the cab driver: YAY, I have my "package"!
Him: it was more than 30 minutes.
Me: yes, yes it was!
{fbcomments}
No comments:
Post a Comment