Foreigner Frustrations

There are certain frustrations to living in Mozambique which go beyond the lack of icing sugar on the shelves. Small things that might seem very small to the outside eye, but which cause tremendous frustration. Take internet applications and purchases. VERY frustrating. And not just because absolutely no one delivers here. (Amazon is, literally, an exotic dream from where I am....sigh.)
There are small oddities in the Mozambiquan set-up which are, in the true sense of the phrase, at odds with many other places. Try purchasing tickets online. Airline websites require telephone numbers with country codes and area codes. We just have a code. Followed by a number. Try entering that in the little electronic boxes!
 Error: Please enter your area code.
`I don't have a blinkin' area code!' (bash, bash. Much use of expletives)
Computer remains unmoved: Error: Please enter your area code.
So I have played fast and loose with my contact details, shifting numbers around to provide the desired area code. I have to assume no one will try to contact me from inside the country....
Tonight, I have tried to join an airline loyalty programme (hey, if you're going to spend all that money on travelling anywhere -ANYWHERE. Mozambique seems to be on the super expensive scale of travel- you may as well try to score some air miles).
The registration site not only requires telephone codes (got that one sorted: check), but also postal codes. Ho humm. Need I say it?
Yup. I can provide an area, but Mozambique seems to be bereft of postal codes.
Not only that, but the site wants a home address.
Well, I can give a home address, but there really wouldn't be any point. Nothing gets delivered to a street address. Come to think of it, nothing much gets delivered. And I don't have a post code.
I can give you a company address. Something might be delivered there in a month or two. (Again, I am not kidding).
Come to think of it, this may well be some sort of cyber snobbery. The little boxes are designed to fit in with the Western World. If you don't have an area code, post code or erm, postal delivery, you cannot join.
Does seem just a tad ridiculous when I could send an e-mail from the middle of some desert. (I could do that, couldn't I?)
Uggh!
And talking of ridiculous: there was a crab walking up the walk-way at work today. To my credit, I didn't skip a beat. Although I did say something loud to the tune of `yikes!'