Kiss Your Mailman

I have been traveling without a credit card for almost two weeks. It's actually easier in East Africa than it would be in the U.S., cause local biz is all about the cash. Even so, I couldn't really leave this island until my new card arrived, since I had the bank send it here and it's impossible to book flights without a card. The tracking number indicated that it was in Dar Es Salaam on 1/26. The date was 1/29. It HAD to be in Zanzibar by now.

The catch is, they don't have mail.
I'm not kidding. There is no mail delivery as we know it.

Despite my knack for writing, I will never be able to explain the ridiculous adventure of finding this piece of plastic.

There is a small post office in Stone Town. I have been going every day. The woman at the counter was so over me. She sent me off to the main post office across the island.

I hopped on a dalla dalls (mini bus), stated capacity 8 people....I counted 16 at one point. Sweatfest. Got off at what we are calling the "main post office". it was a vacant looking cement structure...with an antique weighted scale and a man in a sweaty tank top. I waited about an hour while he tried to track the package. He finally came out and said that he thought it might be "DHL". Who knew there was DHL in Zanzibar! It was sent via UPS...but I remembered seeing a DHL logo on the UPS site.

Back i went to Stone town (via Hamis' taxi this time). Found the DHL "office"...which was a desk tucked in the back of a dingy tiny hotel. I gave the woman my 12 digit tracking number (and probably a slightly pathetic look.)

"DHL packages only have 10 digits," she says.

"It was sent using UPS. Is there anyone who might know about United Postal Service", I say.

She writes a number on a piece of paper."Call Abdallah," she says.
And buries her face back in her work.

I do. He answers. Baby crying in the background.

It's his cell phone. Tell him the scenario.
He puts me on hold. PLEASE hook up a miracle here, Abdallah!

"Yes, Sarah. We have your package.
"(The choir sings)"
You must send a local to come get it.
"Huh? How am I supposed to commission a local to go get my stuff?

Luckily, a guy that hangs out in front of the place i am staying was willing to help.
We fastwalked into a little shanty village, dodging chickens and hurling over streams of raw sewage.
Arrive at five pieces of corrugated metal propped into the shape of a shed.
Have mercy, there is a little, faded UPS sticker on the door.

Abdallah actually made me sign for the package.
What made me laugh, even though I tried to hold it in.


I was so excited...i ran into the street and got hit by a bike.
But the biker was okay.
And so am I.

I have the card.
Might have pumped my fist in glory.