on feeling helpless

I would call myself a strong person.  In the last couple years, I have traveled to places by myself, where I know no one, and have done well enough for myself.  When I have a problem, I have learned how to deal with it myself, or at least try to before I ask for help.  But I live in a country where many systems are not up to Western standards and the government keeps an eye on everything, and I happen to technically be working for the government.  (This is a mistake I will not repeat in the future.)

We the teachers have asked for an address for our new building, and have been refused at every turn.  For taxis, we have been given the name of the bus stop at the end of our street.  For mail, we have been instructed to have friends and family send letters and packages directly to the Foreign Affairs Office on campus.  (We no longer live on campus.)  Since the FAO has asked us to direct our mail to them, you would think they would understand that such an arrangement puts the responsibility on them to accept our mail and get it to us in a timely manner; that second part has been a constant issue.  Apparently, the FAO doesn't seem to grasp this new responsibility.  My mom sent a package from the States on the last day of August, and thanks to the tracking number and corresponding information, I know that the package arrived in this country on September 8th, and they attempted to deliver the package on September 13th.  When I found that out, I sent a message to our FAO liaison so she would know that the package was mine, and she should accept it when they tried again to deliver it (which would happen in America, you know, or they would at least leave a note).  I left it for a few days, constantly checking my front door to see if my box was waiting for me.  Yesterday afternoon, I sent the liaison a text message asking after the package, and she did not respond.  This morning, I sent another, more strongly worded message, to which she replied that she had not seen or heard of any packages.  Simply put, I was upset.  This is a situation entirely out of my hands--when this woman does not respond to my messages, that is as far as my action can go.  The FAO office on campus can't be entered without an invitation and probably an escort, so I can't look for my mail.  I don't know who the USPS uses to deliver their mail here in China, so I can't call anyone.  I cannot keep tabs on the liaison to confirm whether she's actively searching for my mail, or even simply trust that she will help when I ask.  I have never felt so entirely useless as I did today, and it is an awful feeling to which I am unaccustomed.  I just want my package, with my mac&cheese and Pop-Tarts!  If I don't hear anything tomorrow, I'm taking the issue to the Senior Colonel in charge of the FAO.  My worst fears are that they've already sent it back to America, or that nothing will be done to remedy this problem in time, meaning before National Day on October 1st, when all systems and businesses in this country will dissolve into a week-long black hole of nothingness.

If I didn't have the tracking information to check, I would be blissfully ignorant, but this is driving me crazy, and we don't start teaching until next week so there is little else to occupy my thoughts.  I take a little comfort in the return of my favorite television shows this week and next, and also in that the weather has cooled off for now.  We went from a heat index of 102 degrees on Saturday to 63 on Sunday, and it was entertaining watching the Chinese flock to the mall to buy sweaters and coats.  I have been and always will be a fall-weather girl, and my favorite clothes are for this season, so I am happy for this change.  Small comforts, you know.  What would the best small comfort be right now?  A Pop-Tart.  Just saying.