I've been going to the local police office daily for the past week trying to recover the report on my stolen walkman that was promised to me on the 11th, the day after filing on the 10th. See my previous post on that particular experience.
The first day I went back the inspector wasn't in and no one knew anything about my report. The next day still no inspector, but the young man who talked with me asked if I needed this report in English. I explained I needed it for my insurance company and that I didn't think anyone at that institution could read Nepali. This office doesn't do English, he said. I looked disappointed. He looked contemplative. Finally he said he would get it done in English for me. Please come back tomorrow.
The next day the inspector was in, but my report wasn't yet ready. Someone had an English theft/loss report form, but it had a fat black streak down the right side from a malfunctioning printer. The inspector asked if I could wait a moment for them to print out a clean one. I said yes, but then the power went out. The inspector ordered tea and we waited to see if the power would come back. It didn't. The inspector asked me to fill out the form in pencil and they would type it up for me to collect today.
When I arrived today, the form wasn't ready. The scribe wasn't in. The inspector asked, what can I do for you? Well, I need the report, I said. If you like, I can type it for you. You can use the computer, the inspector asked. Of course. Ok, come here.
And so I not only typed up my own report, but also typed up a template for them for future use with unlucky foreign tourists.
So, now I've got my report. Plus a picture with inspector.
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Thursday, February 15, 2007
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