Post office, meet Ryan. Ryan meet Indian bureaucracy.

Lucknow: 21 August

My backpack weighs about 17kg, because I brought way too much stuff.  My second bag is about 12kg, because I have a laptop that weighs just over 2kg, and a charger that is probably the same chord used to power an industrial generator (not because it is very powerful, but because it is very heavy).  Reasons why my bag is too heavy aside, the important part here for the story is that every time I move around with my stuff, I’m carrying close to 30kg.

Now, for a great workout, I recommend strapping 30kg to yourself, and walking around for a kilometre or two.  However, travelling on public transport, walking up hills, either at high altitude, or even worse, at high humidity, sucks.  Even though the upside here is killer calves, quads, and trap muscles, it’s really very little fun (and is working out not supposed to be nothing but fun?  

[For example]

Maurice: “Here Dave, add some more some weight.  You can do it.”

Dave:  “Ah, thanks Maurice, my confidence is sky high right now.  You are such a good motivator.” 

Maurice:  “And friend?”

Dave:  “Haha.  Of course.  And friend.”

Maurice:  “Ah, Dave.  You always know how to cheer me up, especially after my wife left for the circus.”  

Together:  “We having fun.”.

So, considering this burden I was literally carrying around on my shoulders, for the last few weeks I had been contemplating sending some of the excess items I brought along with me back to South Africa.  I tried to gather some information online about how to do this, but could find no specific guidance.  I did however come to understand it was possible.  After some initial enquiries, I established that courier services were too expensive – I am not exactly sending home rare shells or exotic animal limbs.  I was able to establish that the Indian postal service sends parcels at reasonable rates.  So long as you not expecting the parcel in any immediate future (which rules out sending home some cheap labour I found mosying about here – probably for the better – who needs that baggage – ‘baggage’, lol), this seems to be a viable option.

I finally got the motivation to tackle this task in Lucknow, when I walked straight past a post office branch (let’s call this Post Office 1 – you’ll understand later on), and noticed how close it was to where I was staying.  I went in and enquired about if they post parcels to South Africa.  How they answered set up how my next 24 hours or so would play out.

Day 1: The Set Up

Now, Post Office 1 was a small branch, so I was not expecting much.  Although, the branches in India range from huge buildings, to a small office, or a room on someone’s home, so you can never be too sure what you are going to get. 

In any event, they seemed to understand my question, and replied that they do post parcels, but only up to 3:30pm, and the person who packs the parcels had gone home (it was after 4pm).

No problem, I thought.  I had some good information to start.  All I had to do was pack my bag, come tomorrow to Post office 1 (500m down the road), before 3pm, and literally the weight will be lifted off my back.

Go India!  Go Ryan!  Yay for the post!

Day 2: Ryan vs the man

I woke up confident, but cautious.  While Day 1 went well, I reminded myself that I needed to stay grounded.  After all, this is India, and nothing is as it seems.  Simple can quickly turn into complicated.  This was a good self-warning, as I warmed up for the day that was about to unfold using Google Maps to locate the post office (I know, but it was 500m away right?  The roads here are not exactly set up in a grid.  My sense of direction is also not exactly... good).  However, and after following all its directions, I found myself in an alley, with no post office in sight (although not actually a post office, it was an attempt at a post office, so we’ll call this alley Post Office 2).

Still buoyant, I chalked this to be a demonstration of how feeble India can humble even the giant Google.  Time and time again, my experience in India has been that Google maps has been no match for the curious streets and quick changes of places, names, and locations of India.

Undeterred, I traveled to the next closest post office on the map, and this was old, friendly, Post Office 1.  However, with a new person behind the desk, it was as if it was a whole new post office (although they are not getting a new number).  They (now) explained that this post office does not send parcels, and I would have to go to a larger post office.  They gave some long name, but for the purposes of this story, it will henceforth be named Post Office 3.

I was however cautioned that before going to Post Office 3, I would need to get the parcel packed and wrapped in a box – something yesterday’s attendant explained would be possible where I was standing, and was part of the reason they could not help (as their packer had gone home for the day).  The new attendant however explained that while this post office does not in fact offer packing services, there was a courier down the road, who I was assured may (possibly) be able to assist with this part.

Obviously, the courier could not assist – because why would a courier have any materials to pack packages and get them ready for sending to another place – so I moved along, looking for another courier I was directed to (by courier 1).  Google maps (and by extension myself) however was foiled once again, as while the courier appeared on their map, there was no courier in the map's physical manifestation in India.  I did manage to acquire an old box from some helpful gentleman at a hardware store.  So, while extremely unconfident that this box would pass any kind of travel rigour, I had to move forward, and this was forward to Post Office 3.

I arrived at Post Office 3 at 1:50pm.  An arguably inauspicious time.  But at Post Office 3, 1pm-2pm is lunchtime, for all staff at the Post Office.  So, I was told, or rather waved away, indicating that I could not be helped at this time.  Being trained for such moments by my South African government officials, I politely waited the 10 minutes, until lunchtime was over, pondering unhelpfully how inefficient this system was, and how it was so inconceivable that some could maybe take lunch at a different time to be able to offer a service for the whole time the post office was open.

Lunchtime at Post Office 3,
Lucknow

Post Office 3.
Do not be fooled,
those people are not being helped,
they are just chatting to the clerks,
because it is lunchtime,
and no one is helped during lunchtime

After 2pm passed, Post Office 3 quickly moved into service mode.  Their first order of business was to assist the only person looking for help in the post office (me), and they proceeded to explain that they only cater for parcels under 2kg.  I was directed to the main post office in the middle of the city (I had to wait 10 minutes to hear this).  Not wanting to make another wasted trip, I asked them to confirm the location of Post Office 4, or rather regally named, Chief Post Master General Office.  

With such a strong title, I felt that they must be able to send a meager 6kg parcel, and went on my way.  Oh, Post Office 3 also could not assist with packaging, or confirming if my parcel (in its current packaging) would be accepted at Post Office 4.  But now, why would they be able to?

Riding to Post Office 4 - not exactly

the ideal way to tour a city -

well unless you are on a tour of the city's post offices

I think, by now, you have got the theme of this story, so I expect no one to fall off their chairs when I tell you that Post Office 4 most definitely does not send parcels.  Nice building though.

Chief Post Master General Office, for all

intensive purposes, looks like a building that could handle 6kg of package?

Do not be ridiculous

Although I was getting closer.  Post Office 4 directed me to Post Office 5 – the General Post Office – which was about 1km down the road.  Apparently this was the biggest and bestest post office in all of Lucknow. 

Down, but not out, after being rejected from Post Office 4

I am not sure what time I arrived, but the General Post Office is a big building, with many counters, one of which actually catered for sending parcels overseas!   Yay?  No.  Don’t be silly.  I arrived at the counter at 15:36.  Again, traditionally a time one would not pay much attention to, but at counter 18, at the General Post Office, this meant home time.  Well, any time after 15:30 meant home time.

Post Office 5!  What a beautiful sight

Despite my pleading, but once again with my past experience from my South African government employees, I knew that my parcel would not be sent today.  Owing to the “no service whatsoever after 15:30pm” policy, I was also unable to even confirm if my flimsy box would suffice if I tried this labour again.

So many counters, that are unable to help

Day 3: An unknown adventure 

Confidence shattered, and with a breaking box in hand I left the General Post Office.  After travelling to five post offices, I walked through the streets on my way home knowing I had spent a whole day trying to circumnavigate the vagaries and complexities of what should seemingly be a simple task.  

Knowing I was leaving Lucknow and with weekend approaching, I realised that my parcel would not be sent any time soon.  I discarded my breaking box, resolving to find a better way to secure the parcel’s contents.

I was further disheartened with the realisation that after getting through the post office, this parcel had to still get through two sets of customs, and no ordinary customs, Indian and South African customs.  Upon further research, I learned that for this, more work was required, including creating an itemised list of each item, its weight and value – basically an easy to reference shopping list for all the people who would come in contact with the package, to see if there was anything they liked/wanted/felt the urge to look at.

So, for now, Day 3 remains a distant dream, glittering on the horizon.  But I know that whatever time inspires me to try again, it will be no less an adventure.

Maybe if I just leave my box near a post box,
it will magically end up at home?