Mum sent my camera over to me at the beginning of March. I was hoping that it would get to Morocco in time for my trip to Italy, in April. It didn't. Having spoken to colleagues of mine I had heard a couple of disaster stories, such as, the package arriving but half of the contents missing. Other stories were of packages not arriving at all.
I tried to be optimistic. Australia is a lot further than the States so surely it would take more time to get here. As another month passed and a new season rolled over I had resigned myself to the fact that someone out there was taking beautiful happy snaps with my camera. Maybe they were hiking the Ourika valley or trying to take a bad shot of the whitewashed walls of Chefcahouen (which is nearly impossible, if not impossible).
Yesterday I was pleasantly surprised when in my pigeon hole at school I had received a letter from Poste Maroc informing me that a package had arrived from Australia. I did a little jump for joy and then remembered the story of the package arriving but half the contents missing. I tried not to get too excited after all.
I headed up to the post office to collect my package only to be told that 'Customs' was not open and I would have to return tomorrow. "Shukran, chofek mnbad - Thank you, see you later" I said. I have grown used to having to return somewhere 2 to 3 times before finally achieving what I set out to do.
The day after I went to collect my package only to be told that I must return with my passport. Even though my licence holds the same details I MUST return with my passport. OK then homeward bound.....again. This time I returned with my passport and eagerly awaited the man to bring my camera to me. There is was, all safe and sound and wrapped up in bubble wrap. I don't know if I was more excited about the bubble wrap or the camera. My bubble wrap fetish is something I haven' been able to shake from childhood.
I was invited into the customs room where I was instructed I would have to pay 200 Dirhams (about 26 AUD) for the pleasure of obtaining my own camera. What? After an animated discussion with the customs official I phoned a friend (much like on Who Wants to be a Millionaire). I hate to get people to fight my battles for me, but I needed a fluent speaker to find out what on earth I was being charged for.
It works out that as the camera was not bought in Morocco I needed to pay 'taxes' on it. I was required to pay these taxes as I am now a resident in Morocco. Bollocks to that. As I didn't have my Carte de Sejour (residency permit) on me I told him to look at my passport. I will be a tourist if I need to be. He didn't look at it. My friend got him down to 150 Dirhams. Better than nothing I thought. I dug my heels believing that I was being scammed. I offered him 100 Dirhams instead. I was pleasantly suprised when he told me that I would pay nothing but next time I would be required to do so. There were many "Shukran Bezef's" and hand over heart gestures once he told me that.
So if anyone is planning on sending me a television, a sound system or anything of the electrical type. Thank you but it's really not worth the hassle. Unless I invest in a wig and proclaim to be a tourist every time I step foot into Poste Maroc.
No comments:
Post a Comment