Beaurocrats

It is our last day in the Philippines and we have planed to send a package of souvenirs home because we don't want to be charged extra for overweight luggage this afternoon when we fly to Kota Kinabalu in Malaysian Borneo. David asks the helpful staff at our hotel where we can find a post office and we are happy to discover that there is a post office within an easy walking distance. We gather up our goodies and head for the post office. At the post office I approach the lady at the parcel counter.

"I want to send a package to Canada" I say.

"Where is it?"

"Here" I hold up my bag of things I want to send home.

"It's not packed." The lady looks at me disapprovingly.

"No"

"We don't have boxes."

"Is there somewhere nearby where we can get a box?"

"Roxas"

"Where is Roxas?"

"Beside Mercury Drugs"

"Where is Mercury Drugs?"

"Beside the doughnut shop." The lady looks at me and purses her lips. We are in a strange town and she has given no actual indication of the direction we should take to find Roxas and a box for our package. We decide that we are unlikely to get any more help here and head towards the main street. On the way out the door David says "What kind of post office doesn't have a box?" We actually find Roxas with no trouble at all and are amazed when the man there measures our things then takes a flat piece of cardboard and makes it into a box that fits everything perfectly in about a minute. We head back to the post office with our newly packed package. The lady is much more friendly now. She invites us to sit behind her desk while she weighs our box. 1.38 kilograms. She quotes a price. A very high price. I say:

"Can we send it surface?"

"I'm not sure we can do that. It would be very slow. Three or four months"

"That's OK. We don't go home until October. It will still beat us home."

"We couldn't track it" says the man at the next desk over.

"That's OK" I say.

The lady looks irritated and begins to look through a stack of papers. She quotes a price. I much nicer price. We pay the lady. She continues looking through papers.

"You have to pay the higher price." Says the lady (a little triumphantly in my opinion).

"Why?"

"It is too light"

"Pardon me?"

"It's too light. You have to pay for airmail. We can't send packages surface unless they weigh two kilograms." She pauses. "You could put more in the box."

"If I put more in the box it will cost less to send it?"

"Yes"

"Can I just pay you for two kilograms and send it like this?"

"No, it needs to be two kilograms."

"Can I put a rock in the box?"

The lady looks at me disapprovingly. "I think you would rather send a souvenir. You could buy something at Roxas."

As we are leaving to buy something to add to our package so it will be less expensive to mail it to Canada, the lady says:

"We're closed for lunch between twelve and one."

When we get to the street, I glance at David. I think he is scanning the ground for rocks. After lunch David and I return with some treats purchased at a nearby grocery store and add inexpensive candies until our box weighs exactly two kilograms and the lady says she can now mail it to Canada for us. We head for the airport triumphant.

At the airport we go through security, check our bags, pay the departure tax, and go through immigration without incident. We go around the corner and find that we have to go through another security check. We put our shoes and carry on bags on the conveyor belt then walk through the metal detector. Once through the detector the lady working there decides I look suspicious and feels me down. Apparently criminals store something dangerous in their bras. I walk over to pick up my bag. The lady by the x-ray machine looks at me disapprovingly:

"You have an umbrella in your bag." She says accusingly.

"Yes" I say.

"You have to pack umbrellas in your checked baggage."

"Oh" I say as I wonder how you could hijack a plane using a small folding umbrella. I pull the offending polka dot umbrella from my bag. "What should I do now?"

"You can go back to the check in counter and put it in your bag."

"My bag is gone."

"They will find it for you."

We turn to head back to the first desk. The security guard stops us and says David can't go back. I walk alone through the metal detector with my bag, setting off the alarm as I go. It takes them a long time to find my bag. I feel bad. As I am waiting I notice a list of items that are not allowed in carry on baggage. Umbrellas are on the list. The list is only displayed on counters that are not in use. When the luggage guy returns with my bag I apologetically put my umbrella in the bag and return to the security counter. This time I get through with no trouble at all. When I get to where David is sitting he says:

"She stole more umbrellas while you were gone."

We walk to the waiting area.

"I'm thirsty." I say "Do you see where I can get some water?"

"Here, I still have some." David says as he passes me his water bottle. David made it through security twice with half a bottle of water (and we all know how criminals like to drink water while they fly), but I am stopped for a silly umbrella.

Our flight was uneventful, and we have safely arrived in Malaysia.