I catch a flight from Arequipa to Lima at 5 am and end up sitting next to Carlos who´s Peruvian but lives in Germany. We spend the entire flight talking and laughing. We exchange our details and I try to find someone in Lima´s airport who can help me to find DHL and Customs.
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| Peruvian customs |
Lima is a bit rought and it´s about 28 degrees, José sounds like a really nice guy and he takes me customs.
There are two people working in the office, a man and a lady that see me wearing a tight long strapless dress and when security and the man offer to help I hear the lady mumbling: who´s this prima donna and I sense that she cannot stand me already.
I hand her the paperwork for the parcel and my passport but she says that she won´t sign the forms to release the parcel cause my name in the passport is Michaela and the parcel is addressed to Lela. I explain that it´s my nickname but the surname matches my passport but she doesn´t listen and she is bitter. I think she might need to get laid and could show some sympathy. Dhl was unable to deliver the parcel so I took a flight first thing in the morning and need to catch another one at 7pm but she´s hard work and I need to raise my voice with her. She calls her boss and says that I´m missing some original documents and she cannot accept copies and my name is not Lela on my passport.
I explain that the original documents are with their other custom office but they send me back to the other office wich is 30 minutes walk from this office.
I go there and they lost the original papers, I raise my voice until the boss William, he is a prick. Half an hour later , he agrees that as they´ve lost the documents, Ms I need to get laid can accept the copies.
I go to the other office again but she´s mean and tells me that she has spoken to William and she will accept the copies but she won´t sign the papers cause my name in the passport is slightly different from the name on the parcel. After going 8 times from one office to the other for the last 5 hours, I had enough of this bitch, I´m livid and I´m going to put her in her place.
I scream so loud that people in Ecuador can hear me and I ask her why she´s so bitter and difficult.
She treathens to call security and I tell to her face to go ahead and kiss my ass while she´s dialling the number.
She calls her boss William again and claims that my signature on the passport doesn´t say Lela so security needs to escort me outside the building. I tell her that I´m not leaving this place until she signs the papers and release the parcel for my charity and tell her to put William on the phone.
I have a go at him again and half an hour later, they finally sign the papers. I go to DHL but its bad news again, I paid 100 soles in the morning to release the parcel but they told me I won´t be able to collect it unless I pay an additional 350 soles cause they kept the parcel in the warehouse for one week. I scream at them and ask them if the criteria to work for DHL and customs is to be a lazy and unhelpful ass. I´m rude, sarcastic and mean. I don´t recognise myself but I think even Mother Teresa would have lost her patience with these chimps. I ask to speak to their boss , they claim she´s busy but I don´t give in. I tell them that I want the parcel now and I´m not paying a bloody penny. Three hours later on the phone speaking to half of DHL, I´m really scared that I´m going to fail but I hate losing. This is now a personal battle and they pissed me off so badly that I´m not Lela anymore.
People are not used to strong and opinionated women around here so I see 20 people looking at me from head to toe and their eyes are wide open. I start arguing with the DHL staff at 3pm and when I look the clock it´s 5pm. I manage to convince them to waive the 350 soles and I think the parcel is mine but as I get to the other office next to the warehouse, they cannot find the parcel on the system cause they have entered the wrong number on it.
They have now pushed all my buttons and I decide to take control of the situation and get my parcel number from my documents, take one radio from the one of the security guys working in the warehouse and boss around all the DHL guys working in the warehouse. I´m not leaving this bloody warehouse empty handed after spending all day up and down in Lima and I´m not taking shit from anyone.
I start calling each guy on the radio and I ask them to find a parcel covered with London postcards for Lela De Silva. This warehouse is big like Disneyland and I need to catch my flight to Arequipa.
Each area checks and calls the radio to update everyone and then I hear one guy on the radio saying : Lela, I found your parcel.
They all know my name by now and when I run with my pretty long dress and see the parcel, I feel like that little kid who got a new toy. I take the parcel, it´s over 25 kilos but I don´t know where I find the strenght and lift it. I put it on a trolley , thank the muchachos and run to the front gate faster than Usain Bolt.
I take my passport and bag, as I come outside José is waiting for me and he has called a taxi, we put the parcel at the back and drive to the airport.
I cannot stop screaming with joy, José helps me to do the check-in and my parcel takes the same flight as me. I took José for lunch as he has been my guardian angel and by my side since 9am.
He tells me that he´s in love with me and I thank god for people suffering of a bad glaucoma cause if his sight was good he would think again he he
We have cake and coffe together before I board my flight, I couldn´t have done it without him and I´m so grateful for his help and big heart.
He writes a little poem, I thank him and catch my flight to Arequipa. I arrive there at 9:30pm and take a taxi home. My bad luck is not over yet, the gate on our road is locked and the taxi cannot drive and park in front of our door. I lift the heavy parcel with the help of my legs, arms, head, bum and reach the front door.
I have 2 set of steps and as I reach the last one , I think of my good greek friend Panos who always says when things go wrong : Fuck me ! and I hear myself shouting : fuck meee ! The guy next door comes out and says: can I help you ? I don´t know if he means with the parcel or to fuck me. He helps me to push it through my door and I collapse next to it holding my head with my hands and laughing. I cannot believe I made it he he he
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| nobody can stop me |
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