Irish Post

Here you go guys.

 While living in Ireland, I received a notice that I had a box waiting for me at the local post office.

Now, being new to the area, I prepared myself.  I got out a detailed map of my little town and the area.  I studied the map a little first.  The streets in Ireland change names every block.  Not every street has a different name, I mean if Main Street runs through town, then for the first block it is called Main Street, at the next block it is Charley Street, at the next corner  the same street is then called Irish Quay (there were a lot of “Quays”).  I gave up and called the number.

I got a post office employee.  I told him about the note and I asked for directions to find his office.  He replied “Do you know (pronounced now) where the (pronounced te) Church (pronounced turch) is in Baldoyle?”  I said, “No. I do not know where the church is.”  He paused.  “You do not now where de turch is!?”  I said “No I really don’t, sorry.”  I thought that he would pick up the clues in my accent and realize I was exactly local.  “But I do have a map out and if you can just give me directions…” He replied, “Well, I do’t now if I can give you directions if yu do’t now where the turch is in Baldoyle!”

I had to pause.  I mean this is the post office- if they don’t know the streets, then no one in this country would.   I was handed off to a lady.  She said “Ya now you need directions?  Do you now where the turch is in Baldoyle?” 

I took a deep breath and started counting to 10.  I got to three and said “No ma’am, I don’t know where the church is. I’m really not too familiar with the area.  I know where Baldoyle is and I have a map if I can get a street name to turn on, that would help.”  She became pretty exasperated (she sounded busy).  She said in the background “She does not now where da turch is! (Garble garble…..)”  When she came back to the phone she said that she couldn’t give me directions with out knowing where the church was either!

“Fine,” I said, “Okay give me directions from the church then.  It must be easy to find?”  “Oh yu can not miss it!” and she gave me directions which didn’t sound too difficult.  Baldoyle was a the next small village over and wasn’t that big of a village either.  I left the apartment annoyed, but fairly confident I could find the post office.

I drove into Baldoyle and sure enough at the first main road of the town there was a concrete structure with crosses that could easily be a church.  I slowed and realized that there was also 2 other buildings that were all of the same grey cement.  Crosses were everywhere:  any one of them could have been a church.   I had to pick one and followed the directions.  They were grouped fairly close together; I thought that I couldn’t be that far off even if I turned at the wrong one.  I followed the directions and didn’t find a post office.  I ended up back on the main road. 

I repeated the directions about 3 more times having to double back many times and go around a few more due to one way streets and turn lanes on the wrong side of the road and shifting with my left hand.  After losing my temper, getting it back and on the verge of losing it again, I finally spotted a small green van with the words “Post” on the side.  I stopped my car and was determined to follow this guy back to the post office if need be.  I only waited a second for the post man to come.  I said “I’m sorry I am looking for the post office building.  Do you know where it is?” 

He gave a very curious weird look and pointed over his shoulder at the grey non-descript building we were standing in front of.  “This is it!?” I said. He smirked and nodded.

I took a deep breath to calm myself, and walked up to an open square area.  There were no signs saying where to go, what to do or that this was even a post office at all.  I opened a door and saw the rows of a small warehouse.  I figured that couldn’t be right and shut the door.  The only other thing in this hollow was a window with a kind of shutter over it.  I hesitated, but for the first time that day, luck was with me because someone walked up to the square hollow.  I hung out to see what they would do.  The lady approached the window and a man appeared from just out of sight on the other side.  As I waited, my foot shifted a metal sign leaning against the wall.  I turned it over and saw that it was the "Post" sign.  I shook my head.  Alot of good it was doing facing the wall.

I walked up to the window.  As soon as I spoke we knew that we had talked with each other on the phone.  I must have been the only lost American girl asking for directions and he was the only soul in the building.  I said “Hiya.”  (Everyone in Dublin area says hiya.)  “Oh!  Hiya! Did you find it easy enough then?”  I was still quite frustrated so I said, “No.  It was actually very hard. There are no street signs.”  “Well,” he said (with a straight face) “it’s easy enough when you know where you’re going.” 

I blinked and briefly wondered what unique sound an Irish mail carrier would make being drug over the counter by an irate American woman, but I managed to tuck that fantasy away safely and got down to the business at hand.  In addition to my package,  I wasn’t getting any mail from the states.  I put three different letters that were in my mail box addressed to the previous owner.  The problem was that even though they arrived at the same place, they all had different addresses.

I said, “I received all of these in my box.  Can you tell me which one is the correct address?”  He made a motion pointing to the first letter, then paused when he saw the second and raised an eyebrow at the third.  “Well, they will all work.” 

I had to smile in spite of myself.  I tried from a different angle.  I showed him my address that I was given from my company.  “This is where I told my family from the states to send things to and I haven’t been getting them.  Is this the best way to get letters to me here?”  He took my book with the address, looked at it and compared it to the other three letters.  “Well now, tis unit and tat street, with te county…”   At the end of the process,  I ended up with a 6 line addresses that was basically pieced from all of the other addresses we had.  The order went from bottom to top, country, county, city, development, street, building, unit, name.   I’m not joking.  Even though we basically made up my address right there, I was pretty sure that it would work.  I mean it had everything but a map included. 

I show him my notice for a package.  He took it and looked around his feet.  I wondered how many packages there could be if he kept them at his feet behind the counter.   He looked by his door leading to the small warehouse.  He said that it might by with the post carrier.  He left to check but came back in a few minutes saying that it wasn’t there.   I had to leave the whole frustrating event without even the package that I came for.  On the way out of Baldoyle, I looked at the three Church’s again.  I found miniscule signs saying that one was a convent and one was a Catholic School.  I guess the last on one was the Church.

In the next few days I finally caught the post carrier. He was old with a great white head of hair and a full beard that went half way down his chest.  I figured he was very popular around Christmas time.  He was in a t-shirt and shorts.  No uniform or insignia of any type.  If I hadn’t seen him getting out of his little green “Post” van I wouldn’t have know who he was.  I showed him my note and he said that he didn’t have it but that it must be at the office.  (sigh)

As he was driving out of the apartment complex, I took a second look at his van.  The dashboard was completely covered with letters.  He looked at a few letters in his hand and tossed them to join the rest.  He had been delivering the mail for so long he probably knew everybody and if he couldn’t figure out the address, or if he didn’t know the people, the letters ended up in letter purgatory on his dashboard until he could figure it out.  My jaw dropped a little as I watched his drive off.  I wondered how many of those letters were mine.  I decided that I did not want to tick this nice man off.  I shook my head and realized how small of an island I was now living on.