Paštas

On Saturday, while at the leadership conference, I was delighted when the receptionist handed me two slips of paper that said I had packages waiting for me at the post office. I knew I wouldn't be able to get there that day, or Sunday, so yesterday (Monday), Steve and I went to the post office. The last times we've gotten packages, they have been sent to the post office that is near the school. This time, the slips of paper seemed to indicate that the packages were waiting for us at the bigger post office in the old part of the city (closer to our dorm). So we went to that post office. We weren't sure which line to get in, as there were three to pick from (that we could see), so we got into the middle one, and hoped that it would be the correct line. When we got up to the window, we were told that we needed to go to window 9 (we were at window 6). So we went over to window 9 and waited in line. When we got up to that window, we were told that we were in the wrong part of the building -- and that we needed to go back outside and go into a different entrance. So we went to the other side entrance, and got in line there. When we got up to the window, we were informed that we were at the wrong post office, which was (not) clearly (to us) printed on the slips of paper. So after spending a solid 45+ minutes waiting in 3 different lines at the post office, we went home with no packages. My only question is: why didn't the lady in the first window tell us we were in the wrong place? I'm going to guess the answer has to do with our lack of Lithuanian fluency.

So today, while Steve was having a meeting, I took the slips of paper, and went to the post office that is near the school (listen to me saying "near." It's about a 10+ minute walk), and picked up the packages. To our parents: Thank You! Everything arrived as you sent it, and we've even gotten to share some of the treats. We love the packages. We now have a cupboard full of baking supplies and recipes (the packages complimented each other so well -- was this planned?), and now our oven doesn't work! Before we left for fall break, it started to only work every other time. And now, it doesn't work at all. But we're working on getting it fixed. In the meantime, we'll have to enjoy the peanut butter and homemade jelly (each package had something to contribute!).

Again, thank you.




PS - "Paštas" means post office :)