Crazy Day: Part I
Personal Banker
Warning: Normally kind and easy going, I was slightly stressed on this crazy day and actually disparage two human beings in the passage below. Just want you to be prepared...
No longer able to bear not hearing my children's voices, I go to town during lunch to buy a mobile phone, the first in my life. Don't even know how to turn one on. Of course, once I've chosen a phone I don't have enough money on me, so I go to the bank to exchange US dollars to Kenyan Shillings. Seems they've closed my account. Why?!!! Opening the account meant showing a letter of introduction from VSO, as well as having my supervisor, Reverend Obondi, standing next to me, vouching for me. In addition, they needed to see my passport, my Kenyan ID and a passport photo. A month ago, when opening the account, I try to deposit money, but Robert Matete the “personal banker” says I'll receive a letter letting me know when my debit card is ready for pick-up. I can simply put money in the account then. What he doesn't tell me is the account will be closed if monies are not deposited in five days. Today he tells me the account is now closed and we must go through the entire application process again. “But you made copies of all the paperwork,” I say.
“Those paper have been sent to the Nairobi branch,” Walter replies.
“Didn't you keep a copy of the papers here?”
No answer.
So I'm mad and I stare out the window and say, “I'm mad.” Robert agrees and says, “I'm sure you're mad at yourself.” Well, I'm not mad at myself, I'm mad at the stupid bank's restrictions and mad at Robert for not telling me about the five day deposit rule. African banks do not operate in any way like banks in the west. I mean, they don't even take customer's home mailing addresses because the postal service doesn't deliver to homes, only PO Boxes. Robert writes my address down as “Milimani Road behind the Classic Guest House.” They'll send a letter to TICH's P.O. Box when the debit card is ready. Barclay's doesn't send out monthly statements. You have to go to the bank and stand in line to get a copy of your bank statement. I'm determined to get this account settled today because it's needed for payroll deposits. So I peddle home and get money and my debit card for my US bank account, plus all the paperwork (except for the passport photo, which I forget is a requirement).
I peddle back to the phone store where it takes an hour to buy the phone. Then I go to the bank and wait for one of the “personal bankers.” The first one free is a sour looking woman and she calls me over, saying, “You want something?” rather snottily. Gee, no, lady I just like sitting in banks. She looks at my documents for about an hour with her face all screwed up tight and then says, “This is a copy of the introduction letter.” I tell her the original was sent to the Nairobi branch by Robert and I point to Robert who sits at the next desk. He's with a customer. She tells me to wait for Robert because he saw the original. Of course.
Robert opens the new account and sends me downstairs to get a counter deposit slip, which he and I must sign. We both want money deposited into this account so the same thing doesn't happen again. It's now 2:25pm. He hands me the slip and tells me to go to the cashier and bring a copy of the receipt to him. I'm fearful he means for me to stand in the line in the lobby. “You mean the cashier downstairs with the long line?”
“Is the line long?,” he asks.
It's always a long line. It's long inside and it's long outside as folks wait for the ATM. So I stand in line and there's this horrible American movie on TV, but I can't stop watching it. At 3pm, the security guard closes the front doors. I step up to the cashier's window at 3:25, then take the receipt to Robert, then head downstairs to leave. But the security guard is not around and the door is locked from the inside and everyone is just sitting and standing, complacently, waiting for someone to let them out. Ten minutes later, the guard arrives, all smiles, and sets us free.
I travel to campus on a flat back tire and arrive at 3:50pm, only to be told by Liz that the director just called a meeting of the Scientific Conference committee. I attend the weekly meetings, usually held on Fridays, because I head up the communications team for the conference. But I'm hot, hot and thirsty, so I ask Apollo to get me a Coke before going in the meeting. We walk to the break room so Apollo can remove the padlock and chain (no kidding) from around the cooler to extract a Coke. 20 shillings and worth every one! Elizabeth the librarian follows me in and says there's someone she wants me to meet. Apollo un-caps the bottle and I follow Elizabeth to the library and find an elderly white woman, Dutch or German, waiting. But there's no time to find out if she's Dutch or German. She's worked with Elizabeth in the past, has been in Kenya for years as an academic librarian, but is now retired. Very nice to meet you but I've been called to a meeting.
Luckily the meeting is not long. Several of us confer afterwards to fulfil some tasks, then I go to my office to write a piece for the website about a new East African cooperative that's starting up. Once it's written, I take it to Tony, who'll load it to TICH's website. He says there is something he meant to tell me, but can't remember. Then he yells out, “Oh, yes, Walter wants us to meet him at 5:30 downtown.” It's my internet cafe night, but I figure we can meet Walter for a few minutes. Tony and I will leave campus together on our bikes, but he's held up a little. With my back tire flat, I go to Fred at the guard stand and ask if he can show me how to use my pump. He does instantly. Mobile once again, I'm ready for the end of the work day, waiting in the cool shade of a tree for Tony and our trip to town, my third one for the day. It's 6:15pm.
Warning: Normally kind and easy going, I was slightly stressed on this crazy day and actually disparage two human beings in the passage below. Just want you to be prepared...
No longer able to bear not hearing my children's voices, I go to town during lunch to buy a mobile phone, the first in my life. Don't even know how to turn one on. Of course, once I've chosen a phone I don't have enough money on me, so I go to the bank to exchange US dollars to Kenyan Shillings. Seems they've closed my account. Why?!!! Opening the account meant showing a letter of introduction from VSO, as well as having my supervisor, Reverend Obondi, standing next to me, vouching for me. In addition, they needed to see my passport, my Kenyan ID and a passport photo. A month ago, when opening the account, I try to deposit money, but Robert Matete the “personal banker” says I'll receive a letter letting me know when my debit card is ready for pick-up. I can simply put money in the account then. What he doesn't tell me is the account will be closed if monies are not deposited in five days. Today he tells me the account is now closed and we must go through the entire application process again. “But you made copies of all the paperwork,” I say.
“Those paper have been sent to the Nairobi branch,” Walter replies.
“Didn't you keep a copy of the papers here?”
No answer.
So I'm mad and I stare out the window and say, “I'm mad.” Robert agrees and says, “I'm sure you're mad at yourself.” Well, I'm not mad at myself, I'm mad at the stupid bank's restrictions and mad at Robert for not telling me about the five day deposit rule. African banks do not operate in any way like banks in the west. I mean, they don't even take customer's home mailing addresses because the postal service doesn't deliver to homes, only PO Boxes. Robert writes my address down as “Milimani Road behind the Classic Guest House.” They'll send a letter to TICH's P.O. Box when the debit card is ready. Barclay's doesn't send out monthly statements. You have to go to the bank and stand in line to get a copy of your bank statement. I'm determined to get this account settled today because it's needed for payroll deposits. So I peddle home and get money and my debit card for my US bank account, plus all the paperwork (except for the passport photo, which I forget is a requirement).
I peddle back to the phone store where it takes an hour to buy the phone. Then I go to the bank and wait for one of the “personal bankers.” The first one free is a sour looking woman and she calls me over, saying, “You want something?” rather snottily. Gee, no, lady I just like sitting in banks. She looks at my documents for about an hour with her face all screwed up tight and then says, “This is a copy of the introduction letter.” I tell her the original was sent to the Nairobi branch by Robert and I point to Robert who sits at the next desk. He's with a customer. She tells me to wait for Robert because he saw the original. Of course.
Robert opens the new account and sends me downstairs to get a counter deposit slip, which he and I must sign. We both want money deposited into this account so the same thing doesn't happen again. It's now 2:25pm. He hands me the slip and tells me to go to the cashier and bring a copy of the receipt to him. I'm fearful he means for me to stand in the line in the lobby. “You mean the cashier downstairs with the long line?”
“Is the line long?,” he asks.
It's always a long line. It's long inside and it's long outside as folks wait for the ATM. So I stand in line and there's this horrible American movie on TV, but I can't stop watching it. At 3pm, the security guard closes the front doors. I step up to the cashier's window at 3:25, then take the receipt to Robert, then head downstairs to leave. But the security guard is not around and the door is locked from the inside and everyone is just sitting and standing, complacently, waiting for someone to let them out. Ten minutes later, the guard arrives, all smiles, and sets us free.
I travel to campus on a flat back tire and arrive at 3:50pm, only to be told by Liz that the director just called a meeting of the Scientific Conference committee. I attend the weekly meetings, usually held on Fridays, because I head up the communications team for the conference. But I'm hot, hot and thirsty, so I ask Apollo to get me a Coke before going in the meeting. We walk to the break room so Apollo can remove the padlock and chain (no kidding) from around the cooler to extract a Coke. 20 shillings and worth every one! Elizabeth the librarian follows me in and says there's someone she wants me to meet. Apollo un-caps the bottle and I follow Elizabeth to the library and find an elderly white woman, Dutch or German, waiting. But there's no time to find out if she's Dutch or German. She's worked with Elizabeth in the past, has been in Kenya for years as an academic librarian, but is now retired. Very nice to meet you but I've been called to a meeting.
Luckily the meeting is not long. Several of us confer afterwards to fulfil some tasks, then I go to my office to write a piece for the website about a new East African cooperative that's starting up. Once it's written, I take it to Tony, who'll load it to TICH's website. He says there is something he meant to tell me, but can't remember. Then he yells out, “Oh, yes, Walter wants us to meet him at 5:30 downtown.” It's my internet cafe night, but I figure we can meet Walter for a few minutes. Tony and I will leave campus together on our bikes, but he's held up a little. With my back tire flat, I go to Fred at the guard stand and ask if he can show me how to use my pump. He does instantly. Mobile once again, I'm ready for the end of the work day, waiting in the cool shade of a tree for Tony and our trip to town, my third one for the day. It's 6:15pm.
posted by Cindi at 10:46 PM
1 Comments:
Thanks for the visual, reminds me of my days in South America riding a bike and having to learn the ways of the Uruguayans. We called it "cultural shock", but it makes you realize how fortunate we are here in the US to have all the comforts of life. By the way , you are missed!
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