About a month ago, while Skypeing with my folks, my mom tells me she's sending a big package for my birthday. My folks know how homesick I have been lately and it really made me feel extra special because I know my mom in particular went to great lengths to fill up a box full of things from back home, most of which I cannot find over here.
They mention the box should arrive before my birthday. My father emails me about 2 weeks ago to tell me that USPS said that the package should arrive on June 27th, the day before my birthday. But the 27th comes and goes, as does my birthday, without any calls from China Post. I'm sad but I know that in China, things are just incredibly slow.
How slow? Let me just tell you...
My mom sends me the tracking number from the package and Jeremy calls the local post office to see if he can get things moving along. He talked to several different people at the post office, each one telling him something different. One even told him the tracking number he provided was missing a digit (it wasn't). My husband sat on the edge of the bed to deliver the news: that Chinese people are lazy and they don't seem to want to get up from their desks to take a look around for what, in a sea of packages all labeled in Chinese, would be the one box that would stand out from the crowd with English all over it.
Then, about an hour and a half after Jeremy left for work, he calls me. Guess what, he says...the post office called him. They've found the package. Oh good. Thanks for actually doing what they pay you to do and start distributing the mail and parcels. So I ask my husband when they'll be coming around with my package. And here's where it gets even lazier, and funnier...
He says they told him he has to go pick it up because "the box is very big." Yes. Seriously. The post office, which is in charge of delivering mail in the form of letters and boxes, told my husband he must pick up the box because the box is very big. They don't want to bring it the short distance over or carry it up 6 flights of stairs, even though that is what the postal workers are supposed to do. Now I have to wait until Saturday when my husband will have time to pick it up during their business hours. Sigh.
America, move over. You have a new contender for laziest country.
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