Affairs of the Home

All of a sudden I get this interest from a client in Germany. Goodness knows why they need this African from down at the bottom of the continent. NOW! As someone so supportively suggested, why didn’t they just get a Czech?

The brief is so brief, I am still wondering what it is that I am going to do. Assuming, of course, that I get there.  They are expecting me there on Monday, 16 April. The business cards have been printed, they have my cellphone & car ready…Scary, isn’t it? Or dare I say ‘Scary, aren’t they’? I don’t have the heart to tell them that I am waiting in hope for some word from Home Affairs about my passport application.

Is there a better way to torture a person? Maybe we should ship the Guantenamo Bay inmates here.

I called the office where I made the application. Promises were made by Mrs. M. on Tuesday to capture the documents, and then to send on to Pretoria. I phoned back on Wednesday morning, afternoon about twenty times, only to get through and be told that Mrs. M. was not in the office and had been called to another branch. It was suggested that I call back first thing this morning to catch her in case she had to do the same thing. Guess what? She is not there today because she is off sick!

Man, oh man, I was going to write a letter to the newspapers expressing my great satisfaction with the department’s handling of the situation. Unfortunately, the pen is out of ink on that one.

I must be mad, expecting a bureaucracy to suddenly come to life, especially over the Easter period. But hey! isn’t this the time for resurrection?


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