h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

If you spend any length of time with the Cypriot people a phrase you will hear often is 'Siga, siga', which translates as 'Slowly, slowly'.

There's one very good reason for this; the weather is often hot (especially in the summer months when it can be blistering) and no-one can be expected to work apace in those conditions. This leisurely approach filters through to many aspects of daily life. Mealtimes, for example, are taken very steadily and usually last 1-2 hours while some will extend beyond 5 hours, especially at weekends.

There's one environment where you are always guaranteed to see this measured-pace; governmental departments. I had cause (and the dubious pleasure) of having to visit two such establishments today.

My first (and monthly) port-of-call was the social insurance offices. Each month I get the pleasurable opportunity to divest 17.6% of our total household income and donate it to the government. Not only do I get to make a special journey each month, but I'm also likely to lose around one hour of my available time. It's not as if the forms are complicated and need special processing or, indeed, if the large sums of cash I'm depositing require checking in triplicate. Quite simply, it's because there will always be six people in front of me and each one will need 10 minutes to recount the details of their weekend, how Yia-yia's bunions are healing and why Panicos wet his nappy at Elena's wedding. All this tripe is lapped-up slaveringly by the cashier in a bid to promote the 'Siga, siga' culture.

My second outing was to Agia Napa municipality. Once again, I had the enjoyable opportunity to part with yet more hard-earned €uros, but instead of joining the general queue (again six in front; lose one hour) I thought I'd try my luck and use an officer because my payment was likely to be deemed 'special' and not under the remit of the general cashier. I joined the queue of six at reception/information and lost an hour. I was directed to Maria Papandreou, office 4b, third-floor, joined a queue of six and lost an hour. Ms. Papandreou dispatched me back to the general cashier because, and I quote, "I have already processed your application and passed your payment details to the cashier".

While descending to the ground floor in the 'Siga, siga' lift, I resigned myself to joining a queue of six and losing an hour. Imagine my surprise when I arrived at the cash desk and not a single person was queuing.

It was then that it dawned on me. It was 13.15pm. Offices close at 13.30, cash desk closes at 13.00.

I'll wend my weary way there again tomorrow. Watch this space for updates.

*types reply quick before another 6 folk turn up and it costs me an hour*

Oops, too quick,

I'm not a fan of Youtube. However, a friend posted me this link tonight, which fits comfortably with my journal and I wanted to share it.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XXWZ3uAEKsw&feature=player_embedded

No need for sound - just enjoy the movie. It's a brilliant parody of the red-tape and the bureaucratic nonsense I see most days.

I think it's a Mediterranean thing.

I could recount a mirror image of the cashier situation, and I have this very same video on my facebook to show friends.

The body language of those Spanish officials is totally real; they go to special school to acquire it.


I needed to change the name on my water bill, it took me four months.


My friend from Madrid says whereas we Brits say 'manana, manana' about the Spanish, the mainland Spanish say 'horas canarias' which means things go even slower here. "tranquila, tranquila"

This gives me the perfect excuse to rant about people who say 'more haste, less speed'. I mean- WHAT? What does that mean? One of these, I will reply 'F*$k off, I'm in a hurry' but for now I bite my tongue.

It's okay, I have wine. Thanks.