More Turkish Kargo Trouble

Recently, I wrote a post about one of the big troubles my husband and I have repeatedly had with numerous Turkish cargo companies.  Boy, did I catch a lot of grief for that!  I received numerous emails, including from someone from a government Ministry and from a retired Ambassador.  In one email, the author had actually stated she wished she was the cargo company so she could sue me!  Well, here we go again. . .

Today, I was expecting a package that a person shipped yesterday from Aksaray.  (The shipped chose the company, not me.)  I stayed at home and waited for the doorbell to ring.  It rang at 10:30, a visitor.  It rang again at 1pm, lunch.  But it did not ring at any other time.

In between those ding dongs, I received a text message from the cargo company – not the same company as I wrote about (but did not name) in my earlier post, but another, one of the top cargo companies in Turkey.  The SMS, sent to my phone, indicated they attempted delivery.  Ugh.  I checked my mailbox and the door to the building, and there was no notice left from the company.

So, my husband called the cargo company.  They said the package was at the local office and I could go pick it up. Yeah, sure.  Been there, did that.

I went.  I told them, all in Turkish, that I was there to pick up a package.  I showed them the SMS text message.  They said that the package was on the truck and out for delivery. No no no.  I politely told them, I just got the message, and that my husband called after that, and he was told the package was here in the shop.  She typed a little into her computer and said, no, that was the second message they sent me.  They attempted delivery yesterday.  It will come today.

I assured her the package was only shipped yesterday afternoon from Aksaray; they did not attempt delivery yesterday.  No, she says.  That was the 2nd SMS.  I showed her my phone, the date and time on the message, and asked her where the first was.  She did not know.

There was also a man in the store who appeared to be a manager.  I told him as well.  He did nothing but agree with the woman, who was incorrect, and didn’t even bother to check their system.

While this was going on, I tried several times to call my husband.  But he was not available.  However, I have been here long enough to know that my being nice wasn’t going to cut it.  While I did not raise my voice or get angry, I was not going to leave without my package.

As this was all happening, a third woman entered the room.  She looked at a pile of packages, and then at me and asked, “Theresa, değil mi?”  Evet, I am Theresa.  She brought a small package over to the counter and set it next to the first woman.  At the same time, my husband called and I put him on the phone with the first woman.  The man, who refused to listen to me earlier, insisting he would only speak with my husband, stood behind his desk shaking his head.

While my husband spoke with the woman, I looked down at the package and saw it was in fact my name on it.  I picked it up and showed her it was mine.  “Bu benim adim!  Theresa Kaymak.  Bu benim paketim.”  She waved me off while she continued to tell my husband the package was on the truck.

When she finished speaking, I showed her again.  She just gave it to me, annoyed with me.  The man walked out grumbling.

But I was not done!  This was the 3rd time I personally had the exact same thing happen to me at this exact same location with this exact same woman!  The first two times were with letters sent to me from the American Embassy!  Now, I realize it was not the woman’s fault that their drivers refuse to deliver packages to me less than one block from their store!  But, this is what I said to her:

Bu üçüncü defa böyle.  Geçen yil ayna.  Geçen yaz ayna.  Hiç kimse benim kapiya çağırmıdı.  Kargo gelmemiş.  Kapıya not bırakılmamış.  Bu büyük bir problem değil. Ama kim bana “pardon” diyor?  Kim “üzgünüm” diyor?  Kim “maalesef” diyor?  Şu adam hiddetle çikti.  O çok fena, çok kötü.  Bu güzel bir servis değil.  Bu servis değil.

One would think at that point, the young woman would say something.  Instead, she just sat there smiling at me like a fool.  So I smiled at the second woman, thanked her, and left.

Moral of the story:  If you want your package, go pick it up yourself, and if you have to search each package yourself, do it.  They probably would prefer you do all the work anyway.

Yes, my Turkish is no where near perfect, but I know how to get my point across.