My mom sent us a Christmas care package by regular post. The Georgian postal system isn't 100% trustworthy, so I was a little nervous about it getting here at all. So I was quite surprised and pleased when, just three weeks after Mom sent it, the post office delivered a notice saying I should come pick up my package.
Just a couple of problems. First, until just a few months ago, the central post office was housed in its historical building near the town square. However, that area has become prime tourism real estate, and nothing so lowly as a mere post office can take up said space, so they moved it.
But they didn't tell anyone to where, and everyone we asked had a different answer as to the new location of the post.
Secondly, an address was written on the notice, but the street name was an old, Soviet name. Street names here change faster than Liz Taylor's husbands, depending on who's in power and who's in favor. So we didn't know exactly where this street was located.
Reziko thought it was over by the park, so we headed that way first. On the way we asked some elderly ladies where the post office was, and they pointed us to some courtyard. Dubious that the central post office would be tucked away in some yard, we headed there anyway, Reziko grumbling the usually American complaint about the lack of building numbers. Then, another woman pointed us to an apartment. This apartment, while obviously serving some sort of official function, was closed. There were three phone numbers on the door, which Reziko promptly called. The first connected us with a woman who only dealt with letters from the court. She gave us the number of a guy who worked at the international post, but who said they had no packages from America. And neither of them knew the street that was written on our notice, nor could they tell us the location of the main post. We were flummoxed and annoyed. Imagine if I'd received such a package without a native Georgian speaker to help me out! As it was we were stumped.
It was close to closing time, so we gave up. The next day was Orthodox Christmas, so we didn't even try. Finally, following a new lead from friend Tamazi, we found the post office on Friday. And then we ate chocolate for a week straight. So it was all worth it.
1 year ago
1 comment:
Lucky! My package from mom is hanging out a Brazil airport somewhere waiting for one of the few flights to Paraguay with room left in the cargo area. I still havent gotten the letter you sent me yet.
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