Post Card Woes

Originally posted March 26, 2005

Running errands in Fukui brings new meaning to the the phrase "taking one's time."

Once I tried to mail a post card to a friend in Hong Kong. Having sampled life in the rat race back in the US, I was (am) accustomed to rushing in and out of the post office, bank, etc in order to rush to accomplish the next thing on my daily list of things to do (which, invariably, involved sitting in traffic.) This, of course, was possible due to my fellow Americans' knack for paying as much attention to getting the job done right the first time as they would to watching ice melt. I'm not saying anything about the efficiency of the US Postal Service; all I am saying is that they can get you in and out of the building faster than you can say 'lost mail.'

In Japan, things happen at a slightly slower pace. In this particular instance, I was mailing out a post card with a hole in it. In the shape of a puzzle peice, with the words "Wish you were here" printed below it. (Don't ever say I'm not a sentimental guy.) Apparently, this hole caused a minor crisis with my local post office. The woman I initially handed it to inspected it for a good 5 minutes, turning it over from one side to another, maybe as if she was just imagining that she could, all of a sudden, magically see through paper.

She then consulted with some other postal clerks. Which then led to an intra-office conference. On heaven knows what. The possiblility that this post card was, in fact, a portal into another dimension, and that they were about to send it off to some poor schmuck in Hong Kong instead of using it for their own good. Or perhaps, puzzle-shaped holes were in violation of some Japanese postal code. Or maybe, they were considering whether the puzzle-shaped post card that they had confiscated from someone else last year was the missing peice to my post card.

At any rate, I wasn't too happy while all this was happening. I was already in a rush, and had planned to catch a bus that was scheduled to leave a scant 15 minutes from the time I entered the post office. Now, I had missed the bus, and had no idea why. Other than the fact that my post card was creating a disturbance in the universe that is Japan Post.

Well, sorry to say, but this entire experience remains a mystery. Eventually, the woman to whom I had originally handed the post card comes back to me, puts a stamp on the post card, and informs me of the cost. 80 yen for my time. I wanted to reach across the counter and leave deep imprints of my ten fingers on her soft, white neck. But....

She was more than apologetic. I sensed that she was really sorry to have taken my time, and that she wanted to convey to me that everything was fine, and that, indeed, my post card would make it to Hong Kong in one peice (I guess they decided not to insert the puzzle peice-shaped post card taken from that poor fellow last year.)

All I could do was to pick up my jaw from the ground, stammer out a "Arigato" and walk out to catch the next bus. The sincerity with which the Japanese people complete their work and get through their days will forever be an astounding mystery to me, and an object of my admiration.