Banking in Beijing

 

(Or what happens when you lose your Chinese bank card in Korea and have to get a new one)

I was lucky enough to tag along on a trip to South Korea with husband a few weeks ago. Seoul was simply delightful. One of my favourite places in fact.

The air was clean, the taxis were luxurious, and even the food courts were a sight to behold. (UV sanitised cup for your crystal-clear drinking water?)

And the shopping, don’t get me started on the shopping.

After one successful shopping trip, I treated myself to a Boston Creme doughnut from a well-known US chain.

(It’s been a while since I had one, and it instantly took me back to the summer of 1998 when I was a camp counsellor in New Hampshire and gained an impressive two stones largely due to over-consumption of Boston Creme doughnuts.)

So I’m sitting outside the doughnut shop with my purchases, camera, purse and handbag spread about around me. I may have attempted to take a picture of said sentimental doughnut. I then left the bench.

Hours later I realised I had left my little purse with my credit cards, my Chinese ATM card and some cash on the bench. I blame doughnut distraction, of course.

After several fruitless attempts to find the purse, with help from a lovely security guard and a random girl who came round the shops with me, I had to give up. It was gone.

I was a bit nervous about telling husband what I had done. My disorganisation knows no bounds and it was all my own (and the doughnut’s) fault.

However, he wasn’t cross with me. He knew, as I did, that trying to arrange a replacement bank card from our Chinese bank was going to be punishment enough.

The fun begins 

So we get back to Beijing, and armed with my iPad I ventured into the bank.

First I had to explain to the helpful attendants that I had lost my card. A bit of ‘pantomiming’ and a Google Translate phrase helped with this one.

Next the very helpful bank clerk gives me a ticket for the queue and a form to fill in. All good. Only problem is the form’s in Chinese.

Rather than try to explain I can’t read Chinese, I sat for a good five minutes trying to guess what I needed to put in the little boxes.

I eventually gave up and with the help of another good-natured clerk, who was happy to communicate through the power of my iPad’s Chinese-English dictionary, we got the form filled in.

There followed much duplicating and stamping of forms, before another helpful clerk, who spoke English, explained they would be in touch to double check my address.

You can imagine my surprise when a couple of hours later said clerk and another bank worker appeared at our apartment door, with more forms for me to sign. That’s how they check an address in China, apparently. They pop round!

Happy days

I finally got to pick the card up earlier this week as we’ve been away again.

And the best thing about this little escapade? My new card has a picture of Jackie Chan on the front. I’m not even joking.