traffic and banks

friday was the day i decided to finally open a bank account. i researched how to say, "i want to open a bank account," and set off for the nearest branch to the school on my bike. leaving on a friday can be frustrating. cars are parked everywhere, mostly by parents picking up their children at one of the the three schools in the same vicinity. i estimate that means 6 or 7 thousand students leaving at once.

there are cars, pedicabs, and taxis parked everywhere, including the middle of the street. figuring i'd be okay on two wheels, i headed towards the gridlock of cars. soon i was in traffic. not car traffic, but bike traffic. i was behind a scooter as we followed a line of two-wheeled vehicles through a narrow channel of cars. a pedicab passed me on my left and then cut me off, so i angrily rang my bell at him. i was contemplating the bird, but that's bad karma, and i'm not sure he would have known what that meant.

soon though, i was out, and cruising toward the bank of my choice, "the chinese construction bank." they have a bunch of atms, and they're affiliated with my bank at home. i locked my bike out front, and realized that the lobby had about 20 people waiting for 3 tellers. i cursed myself for not bringing my book. i approached a complicated touch-screen machine to get a number for the tellers. as i was about to press the button for a non-vip number, a security guard stopped me. he already had a stack of numbers printed from the machine in his hand, and he gave me one. chinese culture will never cease to make me wonder. i took my number and got ready for my wait.

watching the led panels above the teller windows, i was excited to see that i only had 13 more people to go, and it seemed not everyone was showing up. after waiting maybe two minutes, i was approached by a bank employee. she said something in chinese, and i told her the sentence i had been practicing in my head for the entire afternoon. "wo yao li yin hang zhang hu." she quickly brushed this off and repeated herself. so much for my practicing. i gave her my passport, and she asked me to sit down in a different chair.

oh, my bearded white face. always getting me special treatment. i don't like having an unfair advantage, but when something like this is forced on me, i'm not going to argue. i'm thinking it's retribution for getting hello yelled at me all the time.

the woman had me fill out an account opening form, and when the next teller was available, she ushered me to a seat in front of the window. i answered their questions, and tried to help them out when they had trouble figuring out my last name from my passport. (james bickley mc swiney gives them many choices.) the whole time, this other bank employee was standing over me, doing nothing. whenever they needed something from me, the teller would ask me, then the woman on my side of the glass would ask me. i would start to put whatever they needed into the space under the window, and before i could, the woman on my side would take it from me, and do it herself. talk about service.

after many stamps--a red stamp makes anything official--and a new impersonal atm card, i was good to go. i thanked them, and left. now i don't have a ton of yuan underneath my mattress anymore. sweet.