Patience- No Entiendo!

Yes- it is true. I received another ransom note. But this one was not quite as nasty. I ordered some books about a month ago for school. I heard books were the one thing that they allow to pass through the system without an ordeal. And who would want to steal a book on anatomy and physiology anyway? It is not like there is a shortage of pornographic materials on the news stands at every corner- much cuter than the naked women in the A&P book too. However, in lieu of my book, I received a note that it was being held hostage- but this time closer to home. I took the Subte down to the post office in Retiro, as the note commanded I do.

For those of you who have waited until the last minute to send your tax forms on April 15th or mailed a Christmas package out on December 22nd- you have seen a bit of chaotic mail frenzy. Take that memory- and double the amount of people- but cut the staff in half. This is the Retiro Post Office.

So I take a number. I wait. And wait. and wait. Finally my number is called. My note is taken- stamped- signed- and I am given a new number. I feel like a cow being herded and tagged for sale. I am directed to another room where the rest of the cattle are patiently grazing. For those of you that know me well- patience is not something I really possess. I gave it up long ago in order to thrive in a world with two older siblings and tall people who got noticed more than me. If I wanted something- I needed to demand it or it would never happen. I would get beaten to the punch. I needed to keep up- or would get left behind. (The last time I exerted any patience was in 4 year old kindergarten. I was sent to the corner for talking during reading time. As the bell rang and all the other students left the room, I "patiently" waited for Mrs Perkins to tell me it was okay to get out of the corner. Four hours later, I was found by the janitor.... still patiently waiting in the corner in a dark room by myself- still standing in the corner- nose to the wall..... Yes- that was the last time I tried being patient. )

Anyway- where was I now- right - new number- new room- lots of cattle. So, every few minutes the Wizard of Oz announces a number over the loud speaker. It is in Spanish- there are ten numbers- and the Wizard speaks very quickly. Then, like the Price is Right, if your number is called you get to "Come on Down!" Too bad I couldn't understand the numbers. So I patiently waited for about 3 minutes before I decided to volunteer myself to "Come on Down". I entered a room with 20 small windows. Only a few had people at them- so I just went and handed a person my number. He spoke in Spanish- something about a line apparently. Maybe I was supposed to wait in it? Not sure- just a stupid American girl :) My confused face prompted him to go retrieve my package (which I was supposed to pay 10 pesos for- not sure why). Out he comes with a large white bag- and he says "Sheila? (pronounced Shay -I -La). I say "Si". He smiles at me and hands me the bag (yes- here they are allowed to smile, unlike the last hostage situation). He tells me "no worry". I take the bag and go. Meanwhile, all of the cows are still patiently waiting for their numbers to be called.

But I had one last piece of business to take care of. I needed to ship my old book back to the US. I tried. However, since it was an Anatomy and Physiology book, I was not allowed to. Apparently I needed a special permit to be an "Exporter of Scientific Materials". Gotta love it.

So, while the US has terrible public transportation, we at least invest in things like postal service. Here- they take a day off work to go get a package. It is perfectly acceptable to. You just tell your boss "I need to go to Retiro"- and it is not a problem. Forget calling in sick- just take up a liking for online shopping. Not the greatest productivity contributor, however.

And one final thing- I ordered a book when I was in the US. I ordered it to an Argentina address. It just arrived! Should have done express- then I would have gotten it in 1 month instead of 2.

Word of the day: patience- paciencia. Word #2: Herd of Cattle: Rebaño de ganado

Sentence: With patience, you are one with the herd. Con paciencia, que usted es uno con el rebaño.

The Ransom Note from Fed Ex

The Fed Ex guy- I usually love seeing him. It meant something fun had arrived- not a bill from the mailman- a package usually. And then I came to Argentina- and my fondness of the Fed Ex man has quickly dissipated. He brings not any packages- only ransom notes. To get one means long day of bureaucracy. Perhaps I should explain....... The next time you have a complaint with our postal system- remember this story.

So a few weeks ago, my computer decided to die. Instead of giving it a funeral (it was only two months old - and nothing that young should die), I had to send it away to a hospital in California. The Sony doctors are very good- and fixed her up very well. A brain transplant later- she was shipped my way to Argentina. Cost- $150 US. Brain surgery- free (really good health insurance only computers can get).

I eagerly anticipate her arrival- I am after all working for a company in the US that requires a computer all day and taking classes online- which of course also require a computer. The FedEx guy comes- I had been tracking the package and was expecting it- but he only brings a ransom note. It is 5 pages- written in Spanish- and the only thing I can figure out is that I need to make a trip to the airport. It is where I am to drop the money for the release of my beloved girl. So I do what any good mother would do- drop everything and hop in a cab- money in hand- to go get her back. Cost of the taxi- $100 pesos each way ($25 USD).

Two hours later, I get to the airport.I have no idea where to go - just the ransom note. I show it to a few people and say "Donde" . I can tell by the look on their face that it will not be fun as they point the way- So I walk about 1/2 mile. I arrive at a gate where I need to show my passport. The passport gets copied 5 times, the copies are stamped (they really like their stamps here- as you will soon see), and stapled to the ransom note. I am permitted to pass through the gate where several thousand other things are also being held ransom. The fun continues.

I enter a door. A short hallway stands before me and there are three doors- 2 and 3 on the left and #1 on the right. I need to pick one- I feel like I am on a game show where making the wrong choice also results in a ransom note to get me back. This is not a happy place. No one here smiles- I am not even sure it is allowed. I enter door #2- it is the closest.

A woman sitting at a desk looks at me and takes my note. She knows where my girl is being kept- I know it. After examining my paper- she removes a copy of my passport and prints out three other pages. They too get stapled to my ransom note- now starting to resemble a short story. The papers- each one of them- get stamped and signed, and I am then sent to door #3.

Door #3 holds two men- neither look up when I enter the room. The man in front of me motions for me to come over to him- and I do as I am told. He refrains from looking up- grabs my papers- and begins looking through them. He removes another copy of my passport- prints out additional pages to add to my now novel- stamps them, and sends me back to room 2. This proceeds to happen three more times- from #2 to #3 to #2 to #3 and so on- each time new pages, always stamped and usually signed- are attached to my novel. Finally- I am told to follow the man from door #3 into an entirely new place- door #1.

Door #1 opened to a huge warehouse. It is the holding place for the things they take ransom. The man takes me to a counter- grabs my papers- and gives them to another man. I wait a few moments while the package is retrieved. The box is opened- the computer removed and inspected and then placed back in the box where it is then resealed by the man who presented it. I saw it- I almost had it- but it was again taken away. I follow the man from door #3 back - where I am told to go to door #2.

After going to door #2 once more and #3 once more (yes- papers were printed out each time, stamped, signed, and stapled) before being sent back to door #1. Within door #1 was yet another office. I go in and am required to pay a fee. The fee is for taking care of my package for 6 hours- cost is 60 pesos- 20 of which is a tax. Apparently, the fee doubles every day your item is being held- I am assuming to cover the cost of food, water, and care for all of the packages. For a brief moment, I thought I was picking up my dag from the kennel...

So... I have paid the fee, gotten another 9 pages added to my book, sent back out to door #2 for one final page, stamp, and signature- and I am now shown to the exit. It is through door #1- and is a fenced in hallway that is just outside of the warehouse. There is a small hole through the fence where a hand takes you book, reads it, and returns it. Then I waited- 20 min. later, lo and behold, comes a forklift with one small box on it- my computer! Another 1/2 mile walk and 2 hour cab ride, I arrive at home. It has been 6 hours.

I wish I were kidding- that I could dream up such a great story. Sadly- no exaggeration was involved in the writing of this blog post. Fed Ex and DHL do not deliver door to door here- you are required to go to the airport to pick packages up. The exception is the local postal service- which is known for mistaking boxes for personal Christmas presents .

In conclusion- I hope all of you reading this post have a newfoud appreciation for the USPS and Fed Ex door to door service in the US. I know I do.

Just ride up this hill, then at the top, keep going up.....

It's dark, pitch black, with the exception of the glow of black lights. Music pulsates from the huge speakers in every corner, and the bass sends vibrations from my toes to the ends of my hair. The music ranges from bad 80's to Celine Dion sped up to an unnatural speed- not sure which is worse. I am meant to like this- even be inspired by it. Everyone else is. There is no clock- I have no idea how much longer this will go on- but I am wishing above all else that I had a watch. The place is packed- enough body heat to melt glaciers. I look left- the ground is wet. A pool of liquid sits on the floor. If the situation were any different, I would have assumed the man next to me had jumped in a pool fully clothed. I look right. I need guidance. I only see a small woman-90 lbs soaking wet-exhausted, trying to keep up with everyone else. I look ahead- nothing. I am in the front row- a punishment I feel for being American. Everyone yells- but in Spanish- and I am lost. Very lost. But I just go with it. I am committed, and there is no getting out of this. Although, even if I could get out of it- I am not sure I would. Part of me is really enjoying this. But- I want water- but water bottles do not exist here. Really. (I have looked- everywhere). Nalgene would kill it if they were here. The only option for a water bottle is a small disposable plastic one- but those are supposed to be toxic. I don't want toxic water. So I go without. It feels like the Bikram Yoga studio- and I am just waiting for a breeze to blow. Looking around does nothing- it's like trying to cheat on a test in school from the kid next to you.... the one that didn't study. And just when I thought it would never end, the lights come on. I finished my first spin class here. The only words I understood were "Mas Intencia". Perhaps it will get easier with time- when I know the word for the opposite of "mas". I was wondering when the downhill would come (those of you not aquainted with spin class- you have fake hill that you go up.... and the resting period after a strenuous up hill is the downhill portion)..... And next time I will also bring a water bottle- toxic or not-


Word of the day: today it is a lesson...... In Buenos Aires, there are laws. However, no one really follow them. There is definitely an attitude of "I do what I want". For instance- a red light means stop and stay until green- unless you are a car, bus, taxi, or other motorized vehicle- and then it means "go if you think you can make it before the other car, buses,etc. coming the opposite direction" (pedestrians beware- esp Colorado peeps- do not assume you can cross when the little white man tells you you can). The exception to the "no rules" rule is the buses- who will not stop for you unless there is a designated stop. Even if you are 20 ft away from the stop. This is the only rule that is strictly followed.

Okay Okay ..... word (ok - phrase) of the day. Cocinando con Tequila- "Cooking with Tequila". This is how one of my friends described her night. Another way to say you were inebriated.