Queues for character

Home Affairs. In South Africa, those two words send shivers of apprehension rippling through your heart. You never quite know if a visit to Home Affairs will be painless and quick, or drawn out and agonisingly slow. Tales abound of horrific queues, system crashes, minutes ticking by like hours and of hours that plod with roughshod feet across your once vibrant, now-chair-confined life. Ah!

So, I can summarise our visit to the centre in the middle of the Mother City as follows:

0 credit card facilities (no one at the machine today)
1 cash desk working
2 unimpressed kids
3 loo visits to the second floor
4 visits to the first floor
5 people at the passport desks (2 at the photo booths, 3 doing id/passport applications)
6 hours (in total from arrival at 6.20am to exit at 12.20pm)
7 different docs (2 unabridged birth certificates, 2 new id cards and 3 passports)

There was a moment when it all actually happened. All four of our numbers came up at once. So it was a run to the photo booths for biometrics and photos, then back to the chairs, then a comedy of who is who between counters 11 and 16 to submit all the required info. Picture kids running with id books up and down from me at counter 11 to Adam at counter 16. And a rather bemused waiting room as we tag teamed 5 different docs between 2 adults and 2 kids. I got the giggles. The lady serving me looked even more bemused. Perhaps they don't hear much laughter?

Oh. And ticket 173 was lost. Does that mean that someone, somewhere, will one day find a person clutching ticket 173 in a dusty corner of the grey edifice? Perhaps a skeleton? Scary thought.

Jessica liked the pigeon nesting on a ledge outside the ladies bathroom window. It had a newly hatched chick. I liked the guy selling black pens after I discovered the pen I brought had blue ink. Note to self, NEVER check the colour of your pen at 10pm the night before in the kitchen; rather check under a very bright lamp. Adam liked his book. Luke liked getting out of there.

I learned something important today. There are many amazing people who are remarkably patient, polite and respectful in my city. They endured the queues and frustration without complaining, sighing or looking at their watches. It's my hope that my kids also learnt something from the six hours we used up today (standing, sitting and leaning) in queues.

And when we got home, I asked them if they wanted to tell me again how bored they are to be stuck at home. Because if I hear "I'm bored" again, I will bung them back into the car and we can go stand in that queue again (evil mommy grin!).