Butting In

The only way you can get stuff done in India is by butting in. Lines mean nothing.

My latest experience of this was when I went to the post office last week to mail another parcel. Oh- my last parcel ...the 'test'...did make it home with no problems. It took about one week longer than they said it would- but it arrived safely and with noone opening/inquirying about the contents. Yipee!!!

The main post office in Jaipur is within walking distance from my hotel....aprx 20 minutes of walking on the dangerous streets yelling 'NO' to all the tuk tuk's and rickshaws that cut you off to get some business.

I gave in half way and paid a bike rickshaw guy 20 rupees to take me down a few blocks. Most of the bike rickshaw guys are illiterate...but it was easy communicating with him as he saw my parcel...I just pointed to it and down the road...he knew where I needed to go.

Once there I had to get my parcel stitched up from the guy at the counter just outside the main post office area. 70 rupees and 15 minutes later I enter the main area. Chaos. I decide to stand in one line but then think I better ask someone. I go out to the guy that stiched up my parcel. He tells me to go to the counter at the end. I go and once again think I'm going nowhere there. The line was all men and then other men just going past the line and handing stuff over the windows. The people butting in were getting stuff done.

I go back to the stiching guy and ask him once more about this counter...is there another one that posts parcels. He laughs and talks to some otf the other guys that were just hanging around. They all laugh and look at me. Great.

He tells me that...You. Tourist. Lady. Give. Over. Window. No Line.

Okay. I get it.

I butt in and basically threw my package over the window.

All 5 kgs. of it.

It worked.