Christmas in South Africa?!

Could it be Christmas already? It sure felt like it! On Friday I made the long journey to the post office. I have to take a taxi and then walk about 20-30 minutes to get to the post office (I think I’ve mentioned this?) so the anticipation of actually having mail is intense. This was my first time going alone. I had been escorted before to make sure I could find it but now I was on my own. Well, I was so excited to go that I set off early. I figured that the post office would be open by 8AM, right? And by the time I got there it was 8:30AM so of course it would be open. But as I approached I was worried. It looked closed. The actual post boxes are outside so I could at least get the mail but if I needed to pick up a package I was out of luck. I opened the box and what did I find? Lots of slips telling me there were packages to pick up – at least that’s what I assumed. They were all different and random (like handwriting on torn slips – nothing official looking) but what else would they be? But now I would have to wait. How long? What were the hours? I was walking around looking for something that would provide a clue when a woman came out the side door and started sweeping the patio. She greeted me and asked me where I stayed (yes, in Sepedi). I got through that question okay but then she asked me another one that I couldn’t quite understand (and, by the way, my lessons are going well - I really like my teacher but it's a process, okay)? We laughed and smiled (when in doubt just laugh and smile). I pointed to my slips of paper and gestured to the closed post door. Well, she seemed to understand (and take pity on me) because she opened the door and invited me inside where we found another post office worker who was willing to help me. Interestingly, once the door opened it seemed like people started coming in – the hours just must be when the door opens? Who knows. Anyway, I had so many packages (thank you my wonderful family who I love SO MUCH) it was like Christmas! But then there seemed to be a glitch. She needed me to sign the slips and I didn’t know my ID number (I don’t travel with my passport number)? I panicked. Was I going to have to walk back to the road, take a taxi to my house and come back all over again just to bring my ID number? She looked at my face (panic, sadness, confusion…you get the picture) and said we could just have someone else that she knows sign for the packages. Can you do that? Well, we did (the nice gogo behind me) and I got my packages. Next time I guess I will bring my ID with me.


And it really was like Christmas opening the packages. Coffee (thank you, grandmother!), soap, trail mix (I love you, mom and dad)…it was so exciting! It was only spoiled when I went to put some of the stuff away and realized that there were roaches now also invading my wardrobe. But, not to fear, in one of the packages my wonderful parents sent me there was some roach killer. Ahh, to be spoiled by my family from so far away! Thank you!  Thank you!  But I might need more...and maybe some ant killer.

And send more trail mix and red vines too!  :)