How to survive banking in China
When a trip to the bank is necessitated in China the customer needs to consider the cost in terms of time, aggravation, charges, and post-trauma therapy. It is my view that the latter expense can be avoided through a pre-ordeal course in relaxation techniques. Here’s a working example of how beneficial deep breathing can be.
A couple of weeks ago the funds I telegraphed from the UK duly arrived in China, despite the initial denials of bank staff keen to make dealing with a crazy foreigner somebody else’s problem. In this regard, the Chinese are world leaders. And this was just the prelude to a process more excruciating than the extraction of a deep-rooted molar.
The trick is to lower the heart rate and enter an enlightened state of contentment before setting foot in the bank. Thus, I was able to take my ticket and wait with calm indifference to the line-jumpers, the wannabe emperors, and the downright ignorant trying every trick in the book to convince all around them that being served first was their birthright. Inhale deeply, hold, release slowly. Repeat.
By the time my number came up the GBP-RMB exchange rate had dipped enough to wipe 400 kuai off the value of my intended transaction. Inhale deeply, hold, release slowly. Allow tranquility to descend.
My first concern upon arriving at the counter was to confirm the previous week’s assurance that the bank would swap currencies at the market rate without mark up or commission. Having knowledge of the market rate myself, I asked the cashier to show me that his computer was displaying the same rate. I really should have known better; silly boy! The difference between the rate quoted by the smiling teller and the true rate amounted to some 2000 kuai. Inhale deeply, hold, release slowly. Expel your anger.
There followed a comical discussion of monumental insignificance in which the bank tried to save face by explaining to me that they really hadn’t lied and that the rate quoted was the market rate - the ‘bank’s market rate.’ And if I doubted them, I was free to go to any other branch of the same bank and I would be quoted an identical rate. This debate lasted for an hour and involved cleaning staff, passers-by, and the occasional bank clerk. Meanwhile, the GBP-RMB rate had continued to slide, erasing a further 350 kuai from my personal fortune. Inhale deeply, hold, release slowly. Resist violent thoughts.
Flogging a dead horse is never a good idea so I was now contemplating withdrawing the Sterling to pursue a transaction in the ‘private’ sector, where I could certainly secure a rate closer to the market value. Now we had a new problem: the bank would have to order the Sterling from the Bank of China for which there would be a charge (and a delay) in excess of the saving I could make by conducting an exchange privately. Inhale deeply, hold, release slowly. Try very hard not to kill anyone.
They knew they had me by the goolies, and in a show of sympathy for the vanquished brought me a cup of tea. It sucked. Nevertheless, I thanked them like the gentleman I am and said without a trace of irony, “OK, let’s use the bank’s market rate.” The rate they had initially quoted was 14.208 against a market rate of 14.316; now they were quoting 14.1937, representing another 200 kuai vanished into the ether. By the time I’d filled in the dozen or so forms necessary before the transaction could be effected, the rate was down to 14.1878. I was offered more tea by way of compensation.
Inhale deeply, hold, release slowly. Then destroy everything in your path on the walk home.