Laurie in Poland

trying to make an international phone call

Last night after dinner, I wanted to call home to talk to my father and to let him know it will be a giant exercise in futility to try to call me here. He remembers how easy it was to call me in China, mainly because I had a phone in my apartment. Here, there is a phone at the reception desk, but chances are good I won't be here when he calls.

When I arrived last Friday, our coordinator took us to her house for delicious pierogies, which I mentioned earlier. At her house, using her landline phone, I was able to call home to both Allen's (father and husband for those of you who don't know) with no problem.

Yeah, well, gone are those days, as they say. Last night, my idea was to go to one of the big hotels. Surely they have people like me who want to make calls all the time, I reckoned. First step was to walk a good mile, maybe more, to the Sheraton, where I was told yes, than no, because I wasn't staying at the hotel. I was directed to a grocery store where I was certain to be able to buy a phone card, NOT a prepaid calling card, but a card that sort of starts the phone. No luck at the store; they referred me to a nearby kiosk which sells cigarettes, tram tickets, etc. No luck; they were closed. Next strategy was to try a different hotel. I went into the souvenir shop in the hotel because the reception desk was packed with tourists. The worker had no clue what I wanted but an English-speaking Pole took pity on me and directed me to a[nother closed] kiosk. Back to the hotel, to talk to someone else. No luck, but now the Pole thinks it's his mission to help me. The 2nd person says cards are available at the gas station next door. We go and buy one for 50 zloty, about 16$. Then to a pay phone, with card in hand. No luck. Back to the souvenir shop at the hotel, card in hand, no luck. To the reception desk, directed to a phone booth that just keeps playing a recording. To the next phone booth, no luck. Now, to the phone at the reception desk. NO LUCK. Now, this entire time, I had been waving my MCI card around saying all I needed was a ^*(&(^&^%%%!!! phone to use, that my MCI card assured me my call would be paid for by my home phone account. I guess I didn't explain this very well, but after so many strike outs, they finally let me dial the damn MCI access code for Poland, and what do you, within about 10 seconds I was talking to my father's answering machine!! After all that, he was not home.

Phone card: 50 zloty,
Time spent: 2 hours,
Being runaround: priceless.

Back at my room, my American roommate whose Polish is excellent told me I had bought the wrong card in the first place. Live and learn, I always say! Though I have no idea what I've learned by this adventure.

posted by Laurie Sabol @ 6/15/2005 06:16:00 PM