A customs officer has to repeat everything
Having had three appointments in Berlin that morning I arrive in Wiesbaden at lunchtime. In my letterbox I find a letter from customs asking me to pay €28 for a parcel from USA. I have to be in Wiesbaden-Schierstein in person before 2p.m. in order to sort the matter out.
The clock shows 1:55p.m. I need at least fifteen minutes for my journey through the state capital in order to get to the customs office and that would be with speeds around and just above the legal limit. And that is cutting it extremely fine. 2:10p.m. I fly up the stairs to the first floor.
“You’re late”, is the cordial welcome the customs officer greets me with. I look at him dumbfounded. “You are late” – I hear this important message a second time.
“But why must I pay tax for books?” I ask the officer, whose thoughts are fixed on his well-deserved weekend. He gives me a sullen look. “In case you do not know, my wife and I have founded a hospital for Indians in Peru and this parcel contains children’s books about our life!”
The officer gets up and marches into an adjacent room out of which he returns 30 seconds later with a parcel in his hands.
“Open”, he barks at me with the authority of German Customs. He hands me a knife. I look back at him blankly. Perhaps my speedy driving has knocked me for six. “Open”, a clear and explicit order.
I cut open the parcel’s paper and take 20 books out of the small box with satisfaction. In two minutes I flick through the picture book and tell the story of Diospi Suyana to the totally disinterested official.
Silence.
Hesitantly I ask, “How much is the customs duty?”
In a deep voice the concentrated customs’ governance speaks from its heart. “I value the books at roughly €20.” With a clear facial gesture he points me to the door.
“Nothing? Really, nothing?”
“As I just said, the value of the books is €20!” The facial gesture is also repeated.
“Brilliant, excellent!” Thanks just bubbles out of me.
“But throw the parcel’s paper into the bin!”
“I beg your pardon, sorry, what?”
“But throw the parcel’s paper into the bin!”
After this story, who can still say that officials are merciless? The twenty books cost at least €200. Who knows, perhaps Diospi Suyana’s story did tug at the man’s heart strings. /KDJ
