When your grasp of the spoken language is limited (at best) and reading skills are none-existing, a visit to the local post office quickly becomes an adventure. On arrival several people were waiting near the entrance. Was the Phimai branch open? Was I supposed to do the same? No one seemed to object me going in, OK. A notice on the door clearly says that sunglasses are forbidden, so those go off. Quite a lot of people were waiting, and a notice board showed numbers, so I pressed the only button I could find. OK, got my number. After a while a clerk waves me over … So what about my number? Anway, I show him my envelopes and say ‘paay Europe, khrab’. He gets all excited: ‘christmat, christmat!’. ‘Khrapom’, I confirm. He frantically hits his calculator and hands me a few pages of stamps. After some cutting and a lot of licking, I leave with a numb tongue and craving a drink. But those Christmas cards, they are on their way.