A trip to the postoffice

Lima, Peru

Patiently I’m waiting. For about 15 minutes now.

The nice lady in front of me cut a piece of paper. Then she cut another one. Decided the first one was slightly too large and took another 7 cm off. The first cut was done with a pair of scissors, but the second one obviously had to be done using a knife. Which she had to go and find. Somewhere in the back. Which took 5 minutes.

Mrs. Speedy has two pieces of paper, neither of which is approximately the right size for wrapping the package that I want to send home (sorry for everybody hoping for presents, it’s just that I gathered some stuff that I don’t want to be lugging around with me for the rest of my trip but that I definitely want to keep. Long live the postal service!). It’s like watching someone with the proverbial square peg which they are trying to get into a round hole.

She shifts the pieces of paper again and sort-of seems satisfied that she might be able to wrap the package with the current layout. I’m surprised that after another 10 minutes she actually does manage to do just that.

Time for the next obstacle.

My Spanish is getting good enough that I gather that she wants to know my passport number fairly quickly. Obviously I didn’t bring my passport with me, but I know how this game is played: You make something up. I do actually know the first part of my passport number. Starts with an N.

Error…

Peruvian passports only have numbers. The computer (I’m mildly surprised that they actually have a computer here. Hell, I was half-expecting to find a large cage with carrier-pigeons in the back…) will not accept my (made up) passport number which contains letters. I actually consider making up something new that only contains numbers… I am guessing she would accept that. Gringos (“officially” only people from the States are Gringos, but here they tag this nick-name to anyone looking slightly more pale than the average Peruvian) can have multiple passport numbers, right?

She beats me to it though by asking for my name, address, shoe size, blood type and favorite color. I guess that if you know enough about someone a passport number isn’t important?

That done it is time for the next step. She carefully explains (in Spanish of course) what she needs from me. I look dumbfolded and explain that I have no idea what she just said.

For the people who grew up in the Netherlands, you must know Bassie & Adriaan. A clown and an acrobat who made children’s TV, with Adriaan being the smart one and Bassie being responsible for the comic relief (guess where I got my nickname from?). Post-woman is missing a clowns-nose, but she is clearly of the Bassie-pursuasion: When faced with a foreigner who doesn’t understand what you just said, what do you do?

Right! You repeat exactly the same thing you just said, only louder! And when they still don’t understand? Crank up the volume just a bit more! She actually looked surprised that this didn’t work…

After some hand gestures and a bit more Spanish I finally understood that I had to write both my address and the address where I wanted to send it to on the package. This resulted in some further confusion: I wanted to send the package to my own home, making both addresses the same (no, I do not live in Peru, no I do not have an address here! Look at my skin, I am a Gringo!) After some back-and-forth-going this was finally accepted (couldn’t quite catch what she was muttering under her breath…) and the package was ready to be sent. Total time needed, 52 minutes. Yeay Peruvian efficiency!

Two thoughts:
1. This has been very good for my Spanish
2. I really wonder whether the package will arrive before I do…