There are times in my life that I want to kick myself. One of those times happened during this past week. It's one of those how could this happen kind of scenarios. I guess it's all a part of being an OAF (Outsider, Alien, Foreigner) in China.

I had sent two packages to myself at the end of August. One, I had sent from Cal Poly in Pomona, Calif. The other, my family sent from home in Vancouver. They had notebooks, some teaching materials, personal reading, a board game, postcards, and even a deck of cards.

It was already the end of November and the three month time frame for surface mail was drawing to a close. I was wondering to myself, "Where are my boxes?" I mentioned my concern to the other teachers and they recommended I talk to our Foreign Affairs Office or even the English Department. One of them mentioned that once an important box was kept at the department for a long time. They never received any notification that it was there. I started to get really worried.

I was thinking as I got back into my room. What could have happened? I really hoped it wasn't in the English Department. Beth got her stuff in October. I remembered she had ... a ... slip. A slip? Hold it! Didn't I get some slips that I thought were receipts.

I went into my receipts and I pulled out two envelopes. I closely examined the Chinese words printed on the top: Post Office. Aiya! I was going to scream out loud. I definitely was screaming inside. I pulled out the two slips and looked for dates. One was marked Oct 14 and the other was Oct 19. Oh my goodness! How could I be so stupid. Then a red stamp on the slip caught my eye. I looked carefully at the Chinese: Please pick up within 7 days of receiving this. A 1.5 yuan fine will be incurred for every day after the 7 days. My mouth just dropped. It was already the end of November. Could you imagine the penalty I had to pay?

I talked to Brian in order to confirm my suspicions. He said that those were postal pick-up slips all right. I told him about the fine and he said that I'd better bring a lot of cash to the post office. Aiya.

Brian accompanied me to the post office. I'm still thinking that I should kick myself for doing such a dumb thing. We got there and I handed the slip over to the clerk. I don't think he believed his eyes. He got another clerk to look at it too. I don't think she could believe it either.

They must've been thinking, "Stupid Chinese boy."

I really didn't know if the boxes were still going to be there. Beth had mentioned that sometimes when a package has been sitting around for over a month that China Post will send it to the forwarding address. That address would have been back home in Canada. I did not want my boxes crossing back over the Pacific.

"Look," Brian said, "Is that one of yours?"

Sure enough, it was. It had my ugly handwriting splattered all over the top of it. Especially my terrible Chinese penmanship.

Then the second box came out. What a relief! Now, what was the damage going to be. The clerk calmly calculated the fine and told one-hundred-and-twenty. Whew! I thought it was going to be a lot worse. Mind you, 120 is no small fry amount of change, but it was better than what I expected. I forked over the money. Brian and I just quickly left the premises with boxes in hand.

When I got back to the apartment, there was only one more thing to check: was everything there? Sure enough, they were. I pulled out my copy of the Greater Vancouver Book, the Settlers game, and my Canadian novels among other things. I was happy, but happiness cost me 120 yuan this time.

Don't you feel like kicking me too?