Reflections on Bolivia: The Postal System

Bolivia is not the easiest place on earth to live. It probably isn´t as hard as some may think but it isn´t easy. Some things get sort of frustrating sometimes. Generally, once I´ve figured something out and know how it works and what to expect my frustration goes away and life goes on.

There is one exception to this: The Bolvian Postal System.

What soviet hole this system climbed out of, I´ll never know. Allow me to describe the process (description assumes a box over 2 kilos).

First, you get a little slip of paper in the mail, for me, it is delivered by my wonderful and talented country director, Mauricio. Then you go to the post office. At the post office you wait in line at the counter. Once you push your way to the front (there are no lines in Bolivia, only things that look like lines but do not function in the same way) a lady fills out a stack of forms in triplicate, or something silly, finds another form hiding in a huge pile, and you pay her 5 bolivianos, presumably for all that hard work filling out forms. Then she gives you some of the forms and a receipt (handwritten, not a speedy process) and you go wait in the line for the customs lady. Once you make it to the customs lady, she types some stuff into her computer and tells you how much the tax on your box will be. Mine have cost between 86 and 174 bolivianos and as far as I can tell, it´s a secret formula based on weight and the value amount the sender writes on the shipment slip. Then she gives you your forms back and some new forms and sends you to the bank to pay the tax. This is to avoid corruption. You walk 4 or 5 blocks to the bank and wait in one of their lines, thankfully facilitated by little slips with waiting numbers. When you get up to the window, you wait for the infomation to come through the computer system. When it does you pay your tax and get some more forms. Then you walk back to the post office. You wait in line for the customs lady again and when you get to her, she takes some of your forms, prints out 4 new forms, stamps and signs all of them, you sign all of them, she keeps one copy and gives you three. Then you go wait in the other line at the desk you started at. You wait for everyone in front of you to get their forms and then you present your pile of forms to the person behind the desk. They stamp some and sign some, take some and give you some. Then they search through a pile of slips to retrieve the slip you gave them to start with and go into the back room to begin what I can only assume is an incredibly complicated and difficult search for your package. This takes a long long time. Finally they reappear and your package is liberated. I always feel, at this point, like a prisoner suddenly freed must feel. I´m confused and don´t want to accept my liberty. I don´t quite believe that it´s mine.

This process has never, ever taken me less than 2 hours.

The first time I went was just after New Years and my Christmas boxes from mom had just arrived. I had no idea what I was in for. When the customs lady told me I had to go to the bank, I was already so frustrated and confused that I burst into tears and babbled along in spanish about how I just wanted my package and I didn´t want to go to the bank. She has treated me very gently since then.

My worst moment came when the woman behind the last counter told me I had missed a stamp on one of my forms and I would have to go and talk to the customs lady again. The line was enormous and she was late back from lunch. I leaned up over the counter (I am very tall in Bolivia) and said "La unica cosa que quiero es liberar mi maldita correo." (the only thing I want is to liberate my ****** mail). She gave it to me.

Moral of the story: Don´t send boxes heavier than 2 kilos.