Burned Shipping and Language Lessons
I realized yesterday after hitting the publish button that I sound rather mean girl in regards to Maggie's problems. No, not at all. But I am cautious about helping people in the church because of past experiences, particularly when they turn gossipy about others.
For as long as we've been here and attending this church *around a year now* Maggie has interrupted every prayer meeting, womens group, retreat, volunteer picnic, you name it, with cries about being an impoverished single mother. Copious crying and complaining. I get that, having been one myself. The difference is that I didn't think others owed me anything because of my status, and I didn't tell everyone I met about my struggles most loudly.
While I do think the church should help her, I cannot assume that they have or haven't. Maybe like the Smiths so many have tried to help, but been rebuffed when they offer real solutions I have to wonder if this is that again. Better for Jim to talk to the pastor, and formulate a plan around past history I think than to leap in and give her tons of money willy-nilly. Besides, that money Jim gave her yesterday is enough to pay her rent, and not enough that it would impact our budget. Meet the immediate needs first, and then go from there.
I hope beyond hope I am wrong about all of this, but I have a hinky gut feeling about all of this. I cannot even began to tell you how disgusted I am by the gossip. It is the reason I rarely participate in any religious groups beyond simply attending to make Jim happy. It's been good here for making friends and contacts, but that's about it. I do laugh over the pastor's language 'Like whoa dude!' Whatever it takes to reach the surf culture here I guess.
Yesterday was trying to decide if I needed to be back at the doctors office seeing I'd somehow managed to give myself a big blistering burn on my stomach. I swear, I have to be the most clumsy woman on the Gold coast here. Happened when I was cooking pasta, a few nights ago, tried to drain it, slamming down the drainer in the sink only to have to bounce up from the bowl someone (Jim) put in that sink and bouncing the water up onto my torso. It's blistered and supperating, but I decided ultimate against going because at this point there's not a lot they can do.
What did happen was a quick run to the bank to pay a fine on our shipping snafu. I figured the government would hit us with a fine, but wasn't entirely sure. Just like I ended up having a pay a five hundred dollar fine for importing filters and masks for my VPAP machine this time I was hit with a five hundred dollar fine for the things not listed on the bill of lading.
Jim started to go into his shouty mode about spending money, but I just had to point out anew that we knew we were in for the Gingo Shuffle with dealing with the government import people.Importing your belongings here seems to be without rhyme or reason, you are completely at the mercy of whatever import company you use and the variables of the mood of the import agents. It's a crap shoot. I'm talking to piles of gringos and the import experience vary so widely. Mostly the company will throw up a few roadblocks, asking for monies you didn't agree on first, like this 'fine' and last times 'fine' to the Dept of Health, before asking for storage fees because they've drug this out so long that it has gotten stupid.
The worst case I've heard of involved a lady I know importing everything they owned in a 40 foot shipping container and being stymied by one thing or another for a full year. By the time she got her things after a six thousand dollar storage fee rats had been inside of all her major appliances and had eaten all the hoses and rubber gaskets, things almost impossible to get here.
The best case is another friend of mine, but one that is wealthy beyond the wildest dreams of avarice, who is the daughter in law of someone rather famous in Hollyweird. She hired one of the big international movers to come to her home, pack everything, bring it in and deal with customs and it happened very quickly without any stress. But she paid an obscene pile of money to make that happen. When she told me what they charged her in impuesto, taxes, I had to gasp. It was way more than we even paid for shipping our container. But then again I know her things are nicer than mine. She likely has things from Hammacher Schlemmer while about half my stuff came from Wal Mart. Heh.
Shipping, like life, depends on too many variables.
For as long as we've been here and attending this church *around a year now* Maggie has interrupted every prayer meeting, womens group, retreat, volunteer picnic, you name it, with cries about being an impoverished single mother. Copious crying and complaining. I get that, having been one myself. The difference is that I didn't think others owed me anything because of my status, and I didn't tell everyone I met about my struggles most loudly.
While I do think the church should help her, I cannot assume that they have or haven't. Maybe like the Smiths so many have tried to help, but been rebuffed when they offer real solutions I have to wonder if this is that again. Better for Jim to talk to the pastor, and formulate a plan around past history I think than to leap in and give her tons of money willy-nilly. Besides, that money Jim gave her yesterday is enough to pay her rent, and not enough that it would impact our budget. Meet the immediate needs first, and then go from there.
I hope beyond hope I am wrong about all of this, but I have a hinky gut feeling about all of this. I cannot even began to tell you how disgusted I am by the gossip. It is the reason I rarely participate in any religious groups beyond simply attending to make Jim happy. It's been good here for making friends and contacts, but that's about it. I do laugh over the pastor's language 'Like whoa dude!' Whatever it takes to reach the surf culture here I guess.
Yesterday was trying to decide if I needed to be back at the doctors office seeing I'd somehow managed to give myself a big blistering burn on my stomach. I swear, I have to be the most clumsy woman on the Gold coast here. Happened when I was cooking pasta, a few nights ago, tried to drain it, slamming down the drainer in the sink only to have to bounce up from the bowl someone (Jim) put in that sink and bouncing the water up onto my torso. It's blistered and supperating, but I decided ultimate against going because at this point there's not a lot they can do.
What did happen was a quick run to the bank to pay a fine on our shipping snafu. I figured the government would hit us with a fine, but wasn't entirely sure. Just like I ended up having a pay a five hundred dollar fine for importing filters and masks for my VPAP machine this time I was hit with a five hundred dollar fine for the things not listed on the bill of lading.
Jim started to go into his shouty mode about spending money, but I just had to point out anew that we knew we were in for the Gingo Shuffle with dealing with the government import people.Importing your belongings here seems to be without rhyme or reason, you are completely at the mercy of whatever import company you use and the variables of the mood of the import agents. It's a crap shoot. I'm talking to piles of gringos and the import experience vary so widely. Mostly the company will throw up a few roadblocks, asking for monies you didn't agree on first, like this 'fine' and last times 'fine' to the Dept of Health, before asking for storage fees because they've drug this out so long that it has gotten stupid.
The worst case I've heard of involved a lady I know importing everything they owned in a 40 foot shipping container and being stymied by one thing or another for a full year. By the time she got her things after a six thousand dollar storage fee rats had been inside of all her major appliances and had eaten all the hoses and rubber gaskets, things almost impossible to get here.
The best case is another friend of mine, but one that is wealthy beyond the wildest dreams of avarice, who is the daughter in law of someone rather famous in Hollyweird. She hired one of the big international movers to come to her home, pack everything, bring it in and deal with customs and it happened very quickly without any stress. But she paid an obscene pile of money to make that happen. When she told me what they charged her in impuesto, taxes, I had to gasp. It was way more than we even paid for shipping our container. But then again I know her things are nicer than mine. She likely has things from Hammacher Schlemmer while about half my stuff came from Wal Mart. Heh.
Shipping, like life, depends on too many variables.
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