Pass the parcel, eventually...

In a recent report, Poczta Polska admitted that the number of items they were unable to deliver had increased. The reason for this was due to the increase in the total volume of items they handle. The emphasis here was not on their failure to improve their service, but to redirect blame onto customers who had, inconsiderately, sent even more letters and parcels than previously. It was their fault, the article implied, that Poczta Polska had been able to not deliver, or lose, even more letters and parcels than ever they could previously. In PP's favour, though, it should be remembered that at least the percentage remains constant and that their consistency in achieving this figure - in respect of the heavier workload their workers face - is, indeed, commendable.

In a possibly unrelated incident I received a letter from my mum, posted in England and which was wandering about for two weeks before it arrived in Warsaw. When it finally limped into the flat, there was a clear postmark on the back which said: Lisboa. Unfortunately, it is impossible to lay the blame on anyone in particular. Did it get put on the wrong plane - by accident or on purpose - in England by a dyslexic, or just plain numty, sorting office employee?

Hmm, Poland. Name looks a bit like Portugal. Same difference...

Or was it mischievously redirected once it arrived in Warsaw by a similarly literally-disadvantaged space cadet? Who knows. The main thing is it arrived and now we have enough sudoku to last nearly two weeks.

But I digress. Another letter, this time posted in the city - but on the other side of the river - was returned to the sender. It seems the postcode was wrong. I've never had any trouble before but apparently if you put the wrong postcode on an item, it goes to the wrong post office and hence cannot be delivered. This is despite the fact that the street where we live is the only one of that name in the whole of Warsaw, and that the beginning of the code - 03 - is for this area only. All the post goes to the main post office which is round the corner from the flat. If I was, heaven forbid, a cynical type of person, then I would hazard a guess that the letter was never posted in the first place and the post office got the blame. Because, as everyone knows, they couldn't post a letter up their own backsides in the dark, but it's a convenient excuse and one that most people believe.

If a non-delivered, or re-delivered letter is irritating, it's small potatoes compared to the non-payment of wages and here the number-themed problem gets more absurd and surreal. My wages are now ten days overdue (nothing new there, after six months with this company I still haven't been paid on time) and when I called to find out why I was told I hadn't signed my contract for April. Having to sign a contract every month is, in itself, ridiculous, but it's what the employer insists on. I went to the office to find out more. There was my contract with the first two pages initialed by myself and the third page without a signature.

I signed this. I remember. And you should too because you were sat there watching me.

Ah, yes. I do remember, and I found out what happened.

Please, do tell, I can't wait for this month's excuse.

Well, the accountant was going through the contracts and she noticed that the first two pages were in 12-point font, while the third page was in 14-point. So she reprinted the last page in 12-point to make it the same as the other pages.

And threw away, shredded, whatever, the page with my signature on. Nothing if not original. So I had to re-sign my contract and am still waiting for the money. You may laugh at the absurdity of this, but it's a daily occurence here.

To give one further - wouldn't it be nice to say final? - example of this absurditiy, the farmers in Poland, along with other EU nations, are allowed to make claims for European Union subsidies. To do this they must submit a claim together with a map of the land they own and intend to farm. The deadline approached and the farmers panicked because the company that prints the maps they need wasn't going to be able to finish the job in time for the claims to be submitted, which would result in the loss of millions of Euro in subsidies. Instead of meeting the problem at the source, i.e. getting the maps printed more quickly, which would have involved some common sense and some 'joined-up thinking', the Agriculture Minister, the tanned and silver-haired Andrzej Lepper, had to go to the European Union and ask for a deadline extension. A month's grace was granted, but it is a fairly safe bet that it will be the same scenario next year. Why? Because in Poland it appears that no-one is responsible, no-one takes the blame and no-one looks further than the profit they can screw out of everything.

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Aside: A supporter of Roman Giertych's ultra-Catholic LPR, 'League of the Polish Family', party was quoted as saying that 'anyone who opposes Giertych is gay, and all gays are paedophiles'. I may be wrong, but I thought we were in the 21st Century now and that the Dark Ages were far in the past. Here in Poland, it seems not.

When plus comes to shove...

As with so many things here in Poland it seemed an simple task, to change cable tv providers. How naive we are. When will we ever learn that nothing here is straightforward or easy?

Firstly, the contract is renewed by the company in yearly instalments, which makes it difficult to remember the exact date you started and, before you know it, they've signed you up for another year. So the only option was to give, in writing, three months notice. Three months. On something you pay for monthly. Ok, it's a nuisance, but that's the terms of the contract. The CONtract.

So that's done. A week later a letter arrives, expressing great sadness that we're leaving the company. It looks like they really care, they've even highlighted part of one sentence, of what is otherwise a standard photocopy, in bold. A phone call follows, offering a discount if we decide to reconsider and stay.

What discount?

Well, for the next three months, half of what you're paying now.

And then?

Then it will go up by a quarter, then after three more months up a further quarter.

So inside six months I'll be paying the same as I am now? Fantastic. Can you ring me back tomorrow to discuss the finer details?

Er, no. Can't tomorrow, have to do it the day after...

Some incentive to stay that was. So thanks for trying so hard to keep our business.

Returning the equipment made an even bigger joke of the whole situation. If it wasn't so ridiculous it would be laughable. No wonder people put the decoder, cables and card in an envelope and post it back to them.

We rang the company.

You can take it to Targówek shopping centre and leave it at the customer service point there.

You mean the cardboard cutout 'office' place, where the girl sits on a computer chatline all day? Looking bored and sighing loudly if you ask for any help?

That's the one. Just leave it there.

But they don't accept it. They can't. Because the girl on the desk has cat litter for brains and doesn't know what to do. So we have to bring it back home and try again. Another phone call. Another address. Another part of the city. Another pointless journey. Another feckin' refusal.

We can't accept it.

Why not?

Because it's a day early. We can't accept it before the end of May.

But today is the 31st.

No, has to be tomorrow.

Can't you write a receipt for tomorrow?

No, it's forbidden.

Can I leave it?

No, it's forbidden.

I'll have to take it home and drag it back here at my own convenience and expense again, then?

You'll have to.

So we still have the equipment. As the new company can't connect for a week or two, we're using it to watch the Vicar of Dibley. We get to keep the satellite dish though. I think it'd make a nice bird bath. Or it would if I'd let the pigeons anywhere near the balcony.