The Incompetent Fools
or: Count on the Postal Service to Ruin an Otherwise Perfectly Good Day

Stuart is leaving for America on Sunday and I've been offered the room he is renting from a Tamil family on Peradeniya road. It was an offer I gladly accepted as my relationship to John has gone from strained to painful for reasons I won't go into here. It is enough to say I'd be a lot more comfortable somewhere else, and Stuarts' host family are warm and kind people.

Preparing for the move I decided to send a bunch of books back to Norway. I will only be here another month and with the Kandy perahera coming up I figure it is best to start emptying the nest now (how did I end up with so much "stuff" in so little time?). I filled a backpack with books and caught a bus to the Main Post Office.

Having done this a couple of times before I figured I knew the routine.

Step 1: Get parcel wrapped in Post Shop
Step 2: Add address
Step 3: Get the approval of man in Counter 16 who will tell you the postage
Step 4: Buy stamps from different counter
Step 5: Drop the parcel in Counter 16

I unloaded my books on the Post Shop counter and declared that I wanted them wrapped as a book parcel, to be sent as "printed matter". The guy wrapped it all up in a cardboard box, applying generous amounts of tape. Well done I thought, and ventured on to Counter 16.

"Man in Counter 16" proceeds to calculate the postage for "Sea mail" (3090 rupees). I make it clear that I want to send the parcel as "printed matter". He looks dumbfounded. "Man in Counter 16" needs to consult various superiors. One claims that it is "better to send sea mail". Another says, "Parcel is too big". Finally a man I figure must be at least 3 levels above "Man in Counter 16" tells me they can't accept the parcel like this. It is not wrapped correctly. It needs to be transparent. Better I send it as air or sea mail.

I explain that the mistake was with the Post Shop. "Superior Officer" tells me I have to understand that this is not his problem. The Post Shop is a different branch and he is not responsible for their business. I tell him that this is a screwed up way of treating a customer who is not responsible for the mistake. I ask him if he can talk to the man in the Post Shop and have him re-wrap my parcel. "Superior Officer" tells me I will have to do it myself and turns his back on me. In his mind he is finished with this annoying man and he doesn't hear me when I say they won't listen to me.

Right enough. Back in the Post Shop "Wrapping Guy" tries to dodge any responsibility. "Better you send as sea mail", he tells me, and goes on by redirecting me to the man in the other Post Shop counter. This man in turn tries to convince me of sending it as sea mail and then tells me to talk to "Man in Counter 16". When I try to say that "Man in Counter 16" sent me back to the Post Shop he has gone on to the next customer. At this point I have exclaimed that "this is outrageous" to three different people and I am becoming very frustrated and angry. This, as I have mentioned earlier on the blog, is not productive. I hook on to "Wrapping Guy" and tell him to re-wrap it. He tells me to wait and then when he sees I am not in the mood to be pushed around any more he sends be into the Post Masters office.

"Post Master" is sitting at his desk in his large office and gestures to me to sit down. A number of people come and go with papers for him to sign. He smiles behind his large mustache, clearly amused at my worked up temper. I try hard to cool down and explain the situation to him. "Yes, yes", he says. He agrees that "Wrapping Guy" made a mistake. But it is "better I send sea mail". I refuse; telling him I know it is cheaper to send as printed matter. After consulting briefly with a clerk he goes on to say that the maximum weight of the printed matter parcels is 2 kilograms. This I know is not the case and I tell him I believe he must be mistaken. I sent a much larger book parcel from this very same post office last summer. He nods, but maintains that the limit is 2 kg and that my parcel, which is 9 kg must be split in 5 smaller parcels. "Better I send it sea mail".

At this point I am about to surrender. But then a clerk enters the office carrying a price list. He confers quickly with "Post Master" who looks up at me smiling. "Yes he says.. there is one price for the 2 first kilograms and then another price for each additional kilogram". Victory! (Maybe)

Back in the Post Shop "Wrapping Guy" somewhat reluctantly starts cutting open the sides of the parcel so that the content is made visible - the requirement of printed matter parcels. Last year they covered the openings with transparent plastic, however, but this "Wrapping Guy" fails to do. I tell him the books will be ruined if I send them like that. "But we have no transparent plastic" says "Clerk no2" in the Post Shop. I stare at him, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. "Clerk no2" was one of few to have shown a somewhat sympathetic side during the preceding black comedy. He rises to the occasion though, telling "Wrapping Guy" to cover the holes with transparent tape. I am almost there.

Back in Counter 16, "Man" looks rather terrified of the parcel and I. I tell him we will try this again and that I want the printed matter rate. He is at a loss, scratching his head and looking at random pages in a notebook on his desk. He grabs a hold of the neighboring clerk who doesn't seem to bring any enlightenment into the mess. Then, as a descending angel, a sari-clad woman appears out of nowhere, carrying the very same price list the clerk had shown the Post Master. "Man in Counter 16" reaches for pen and paper and proceeds to calculate. "605 rupees", he tells me. Only a few small steps away now.

"Stamp Guy" is not happy. Something is wrong with his postage machine. He waves the white stickers at the guy next to him and rambles on in Sinhala. After a few minutes, however, he feeds it a sticker which comes out perfectly stamped. I pay him, not knowing what the fuzz was about, and return triumphantly to Counter 16 where I am given "par avion"-stickers but no receipt. I won't push my luck by demanding one. Everything seems to be OK, though it hardly feels that way. First: have I pissed someone off to the point where he will sabotage my parcel to get back at me? It wouldn't surprise me the least bit. Second: the rate I was given of 605 rupees cannot be correct. It seems much too low for a 9 kg parcel to Norway.

I left the post office convinced I would never see my books again. On the way to town I looked up at a billboard above the MD Gunasena Book Shop. It has a picture of Sir Winston Churchill and carries the slogan "For the Love of Victory!" (now, who chose that for a bookstore?). In this country, to successfully send off a parcel at the correct rate is a game that has to be won. A difficult game at that. And you certainly need to know the rules because the other team is not going to tell them to you - that is; if they by chance know them themselves and don't just make them up as they go.

/haakon/