A Package, A Postman and Janis Joplin

What I am about to tell you is fact. It happened to me and I lived to tell this tale.

I was at home one morning, sipping my coffee and doing something very important, I’m sure. The doorbell rings. As I push the intercom button a blustery voice on the other end declares “Post” which is my cue to rapidly open the door, for the postman cometh … and bringith good things.
In his hands, he is holding a package from a good friend in Oklahoma. I notice he has a peculiar smile on his face and says nothing. He then hands me a receipt, saying that I will pay … (drum roll please) … 100 Euro for the parcel.

Ugh.

We’ve had this happen one other time before, so I promptly tell him that this package is a gift from home … that I don’t need to pay the Zoll (tax) for this package for I did not purchase the contents. His peculiar smile then sifts to panic, complete with the dear-in-the-headlights look.

Instantly I recognize this look – he doesn’t speak German (the voice of experience is a powerful thing!). Smelling his fear, I ask him if he speaks English. Nope. I then proceed with German and ask him a phrase he would recognize: where he is from. He tells me Hungary. I know only one Hungarian word, seja, which means hello and goodbye. I say my token Hungarian word and he smiles.

So, I try to tell him again, very slowly that I should not have to pay the Zoll. He keeps shaking his head and then puts up a finger, his sign language communication to tell me he has an idea. He pulls out his handy (cell phone) and dials. The person on the other end is the recipient of a fast-paced Hungarian conversation and then he gives me the phone. Yikes! I sheepishly say “hello” and the person begins to speak German with me.

I won’t go into all the details but simply give you the bottom line. Should you decide to send us something, on your customs slip, always, always, always write that the contents are a “gift”. You can then describe contents, but only after you’ve declared it is a gift. If not, we will be charged taxes on the contents of the box.

So, as he is filling out some sort of slip to show me where I can go to complain and plead my case before the Zoll people, he says “You American?” We banter back and forth and he tells me he has an American friend in Hungary. Her name is Helen. Helen is from Chicago and has lived in Hungary for many years. My postman friend proceeds to pantomime playing the guitar and says, “Janis Joplin”. It appears that Helen plays Janis Joplin songs on her guitar, which postman likes very much.

All in all it is a sweet exchange. Postman has only been in Vienna for 2 weeks. I am impressed that he knows as much German as he does.

As he is leaving, I say my token “seja” to pay homage to his heart-language. He smiles (he does that a lot) and says … in English … “Have … a … good … sleep.” He tells me that Helen has taught him how to say this.

Today, my Chris is making his way with our friend, Thomas, to see if he can rescue our package from the hands of the Zoll people. I’ll keep you posted on the events. Trying to be clever, I told Chris that perhaps if he began singing Janis Joplin songs they would lend sympathy to his cause. He didn’t get my humor.

On a totally random change of thought … I want to change the name of my blog. I want something edgy and symbolic of what I do … what I write. I’ve been tossing around the following names: The Urban Pioneer
The Urban Gardner
Life in Words
Tales from an Urban Pioneer
Words
Write Things

Tell me what you think … would ja?