Post Office

I've had a handful of postcards sitting on my desk for a while and I finally had a break long enough to go drop them off, so off I went on my first (but certainly not last) trip to the post office.

I had seen it before in a plaza on the far side of Calle de los Reyes Católicos, but I couldn't remember where exactly. So, I went to the top of the street and started following it down until I saw it. It's tucked into the back corner of a wide, not-square plaza. From the outside, it looks like an official building, like a bank or a political building. I never would have guessed it was a post office if there wasn't a little sign hanging on a post in front of it reading "Correos." There were quite a few people sitting on the steps leading to a big glass doorway, the marble there was not heated by the sun.

I don't know why, but I was expecting it to be more like an American post office, where you walk in and get in line. This was something a little different though, slightly resembling a highly-efficient DMV. Ahead were a bunch of marble counter tops. It would have looked like a bank if there was bullet-proof glass in front of the people. To the left was a little machine. I looked at the sign. They broke down their services into four categories. Depending on your category, you had a series of options. To "enviar cartas", I needed to push the A button, take a number, and wait. I got A258, and the highest number of the occupied registers was A242 and there were only 3-4 open. I was expecting a long wait since the A registers don't only deal with things as simple as "enviar cartas", so I found a nice spot on a tall table to lean on.

Let me tell you, these people don't mess around. As soon as one was finished, they put a number on the board and a "ding" sounded in the post office. If no one reacted by the time the number stopped flashing, they were on to the next number. I saw one register go through 5 numbers within 30 seconds because it was just so fast. Needless to say, I made my way to the front quickly.

I walked up to my register and handed him my 5 post cards with a simple "Hola." He responded with a "Buenas tardes" or something similar, just a greeting. Looking down at him handling my post cards, all addressed to the USA, I felt like such a tourist, and I know he was thinking that, too. I heard him counting under his breath in Spanish (I don't know why, but that always throws me... People talking in Spanish, even kids talking in Spanish seems normal, but once they start just counting in Spanish, it always seems out-of-place, even though it's exactly as it should be) and punch a couple of numbers into his calculator. He turned his monitor so I could see it, pointed, and said slowly "Cuatro y sesenta y cinco". I got a little embarrassed and handed him a five. He counted out change and handed it to me with an "Aquí tienes. ¡Que tengas buen día!" and I only managed an embarrassed "Gracias."

There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I know I'm a foreigner, but I want so badly to be integrated into society here.

I left and started walking home, taking a much more efficient route since I now knew where I was and where I was going. I remembered seeing post cards for cheap near that part of town, so I started exploring. I managed to find a stand with post cards at half the price of the ones I had just sent, so I picked out a Euro's worth and went to pay. The cashier just held up a finger and said "Uno" quickly and quietly. I handed him the coin and he said "Gracias" as I walked out.

I decided I should just head back, so I did. I saw one of the guys from our program walking towards me and I said "Hey!" as he got closer to me. He jumped, a little surprised at my voice, and looked me over. "Oh... Sorry, I thought you were Spanish!" "Really? Cool! ...No one else does." I said before I could even think about it.

Too American for the Spanish... and now I'm too Spanish for the Americans apparently, haha.

You know... I think I'm okay with that.