I always wondered why the Lithuanian post office stamps mail on the back on the envelope when it arrives. Seemed a bit of a job creation scheme. But now it's coming in useful, in judging the performance of the post office.
When I returned home around 25 September, and went to my local branch staffed, it seems, by toothless old crones who only speak Russian, to pick up a parcel I was surprised not only to receive a parcel, but also a whole pile of letters. The manageress of the delivery people, as her staff found more and more letters for me, visibly had steam coming out of her ears - did I get the feel she was managing a kindergarten? Today I found my letter box crammed with letters. Bit surprised. Among them letters from my university dated 16 September reminding me to register for courses which I have been studying for the last fortnight. One or two letters looked a bit crunched.... It occurred to me to look at the back of the letters - the oldest letters arrived in Vilnius on 27 September, the newest on 4 October. Don't send anything perishable by post!
...on a bus yesterday (was shooting all over Vilnius for what I hope was probably a row of pointless medical appointments) I was intrigued to spot the driver of the minibus behind me wearing a seatbelt. It's unusual, but some of them are rather wild drivers, and perhaps he was wilder than most? The picture of apparent safety was a little disturbed by the cardboard cutout of a cannabis leaf dangling from his mirror.
I see Lithuania runs an annual quiz about the Lithuanian constitution (glad we don't do that in the UK...). Here it says that among this years winners are teachers, students and a prison inmate - good for him or her. I wonder if that person's human rights are being properly respected - but he/she should be able to stand up for him/herself. Presumably people allied to the legal profession are excluded from this quiz, otherwise it would be a bit of a poor show for their profession. It's a good and worthwhile activity (has a flavour of the Soros Foundation about it, no?), but it seems a bit of an anorakish thing to do. But then we also have the national spelling competition every spring, where in townhalls up and down the country people take part in a spelling test (in some ways I fancy that one, always having been a good speller, but I'm not quite sure if my Lithuanian is up to knowing where some words begin and end sometimes).
When I returned home around 25 September, and went to my local branch staffed, it seems, by toothless old crones who only speak Russian, to pick up a parcel I was surprised not only to receive a parcel, but also a whole pile of letters. The manageress of the delivery people, as her staff found more and more letters for me, visibly had steam coming out of her ears - did I get the feel she was managing a kindergarten? Today I found my letter box crammed with letters. Bit surprised. Among them letters from my university dated 16 September reminding me to register for courses which I have been studying for the last fortnight. One or two letters looked a bit crunched.... It occurred to me to look at the back of the letters - the oldest letters arrived in Vilnius on 27 September, the newest on 4 October. Don't send anything perishable by post!
...on a bus yesterday (was shooting all over Vilnius for what I hope was probably a row of pointless medical appointments) I was intrigued to spot the driver of the minibus behind me wearing a seatbelt. It's unusual, but some of them are rather wild drivers, and perhaps he was wilder than most? The picture of apparent safety was a little disturbed by the cardboard cutout of a cannabis leaf dangling from his mirror.
I see Lithuania runs an annual quiz about the Lithuanian constitution (glad we don't do that in the UK...). Here it says that among this years winners are teachers, students and a prison inmate - good for him or her. I wonder if that person's human rights are being properly respected - but he/she should be able to stand up for him/herself. Presumably people allied to the legal profession are excluded from this quiz, otherwise it would be a bit of a poor show for their profession. It's a good and worthwhile activity (has a flavour of the Soros Foundation about it, no?), but it seems a bit of an anorakish thing to do. But then we also have the national spelling competition every spring, where in townhalls up and down the country people take part in a spelling test (in some ways I fancy that one, always having been a good speller, but I'm not quite sure if my Lithuanian is up to knowing where some words begin and end sometimes).
No comments:
Post a Comment