Columnist Eleonore af Schaumburg-Lippe writes in her weekly column about life as an expat in Romania. This week she tells you the story about how it ended up taking 40 minutes at the Romanian post office to send one letter to Denmark.

I just came back from a visit to the Romanian Post office, and now I can finally laugh, because this was indeed an experience and a demonstration of bureaucracy at its best.

My mission there was not so complicated, I thought, but I should learn that what I was asking for was indeed pushing the limits of the dear woman working at the post office. My mission was to send one letter to Denmark.

When I entered the door of the post office, I couldn’t really find out where the lines for the counters began, since people were not standing in obvious queues.

There were three women working at the desk and the middle one looked at me to signal she was available, not with a smile but with a nod. I handed over my letter; it was in a brown envelope and inside were 10 pieces of A4 paper in a plastic cover. I told her the letter was going to Denmark, she only spoke Romanian, and Denmark had to be explained a little, but she got it, and placed the letter on a little weight, she then asked something of  which I did not understand a word .

I shall admit my Romanian post office language does not really exist, so a man next to me kindly translated and said normal post or express. I asked for the price for express contra normal, I got no answer from the post lady, the man translated to Romanian, and I got the price for express. I thought ok, it must cost what it costs, and said express.

She looked at the letter, because of the plastic cover, it had not been possible for me to close the envelope completely on the sides, and on each side there was around 1 cm open air, but it was otherwise a solid closed envelope.

She began to inspect the letter, turning it over and over for around 5 minutes, not saying anything, but I think in the end, she decided that the letter was ok. She then found 5-6 big stamps and gave them to me to put on the letter, while she took a moment off to drink some water from a big bottle.

There was a water pad for the stamps on the desk, but there was hardly any water in, so the stamps wouldn’t really stick, but there was also a glue on the desk, so she kindly helped me by gluing the stamps on. But because of her drinking water, the envelope was now covered half with water from the stamps and her fingers, well never mind, the ink of the address was still readable, I thought.

My translator, the man next to me, suddenly asked for an envelope, and then she decided to service him and began to search her desk for an envelope, and everything was checked, including a calendar with colorful pictures from Romania, every “month” was examined.

I found it a bit funny; that the post office did not have envelopes, and why she was searching in her calendar for envelopes, but thought it better not to begin laughing. She couldn’t find any envelopes, and told the man to go elsewhere.

She then turned to me and said an amount to pay, at which point I made my biggest mistake - I asked for a bill. Her eyes went wide open, and she looked like a question mark. I said nota va rog, like in the restaurants, all I wanted was a bill, so I had some evidence that I had sent the letter, if it never reached Denmark.

The post woman said nu, nu, reminding me of a sketch from TV-show Little Britain - The computer says no - but a woman next to me translated that I wanted a bill; the post office woman gave a 'pfhh' and began to stare at the computer in front of her. Another man next to me then asked for a letter, I think, and she began to service him and look for his letter, again searching everywhere and again turning every page of the calendar, which made me laugh inside again, because why on earth would it be in the calendar. Well she couldn’t find it, and told him to come back next day. Then she looked again at the computer, while I was thinking about her skills for multitasking, servicing others, when my mission became a little complicated.

The man next to me asking for the letter said before he left that the computer will print out a bill for you, no problem. But then post lady looked up and said nu, nu. The woman next to me said something in Romanian and the post lady then found an invoice booklet, I thought great, write it by hand. She asked for my fiscal information, I didn’t have any, but I gave her my passport, she looked and stared at the passport," numele" she asked, and I tried to explain my name, but she just looked at me, like on the edge of giving up, she then went to her colleague with my passport asking my name. This seemed complicated, so she then went back to talk to another woman, the post office director I expect, the director told me in Romanian, you cannot get a bill since the letter is sent as normal, I then explained that I wanted it to be sent express, and thought that it had been, and that I just wanted a bill not an invoice.

The post office director then took the letter and looked at it, and said she could send it 'registered' but that it would need re-enveloping. All the stamps where glued on the letter, so how could we re-envelope it?. She said to go registered, it had to be sealed, and the 1 cm opening on the sides was now a problem. She went for some tape, but strangely enough she did not put the tape on the letter. I decided not to ask any questions. They then decided not to send it registered post, why I don’t know, opting instead for 'express,' I had to pay 6 lei more and the letter was put in the sending box, finally the post office lady printed out a bill for me. How it was suddenly possible to get a bill, I don’t know.

This is a bit typical of what can happen in Romania, in the end, the problem is solved, but the process getting there can be quite a journey. So cross your fingers that my letter will arrive in Denmark, I believe and hope so, and I would like to thank each of the six people that helped me in achieving my mission of sending one letter.

By Eleonore af Schaumburg-Lippe, columnist

Eleonore is Danish, she holds a BA in Organization and Management and specializes in Corporate Communication & Strategic Development. She is also a Market Economist and a Multimedia Designer. She is currently working in Bucharest as the Executive Director of UAPR the Romanian Advertising Association. As a Danish Viking in Romania, with a great passion for ’covrigi’, she has a burning desire to find out how Romanian women can balance on really high stilettos on the bumpy streets of Bucharest. Her weekly columns will give you insights into an expats life in Bucharest written with humor and a big Danish smile.