Spanish bank experience, and why I can never return!

Needing to transfer money home…

On starting my new job, I needed to set up a Spanish bank account in order to receive my salary. Well, the school HR team set it up on my behalf! During the first week, a member of HR made the appointment at the local branch and then accompanied me to that appointment after school to help with the language barrier. Being totally new to living and working abroad, and not knowing anyone I could ask, I had no idea what account I was signing myself up for! However, I obviously needed help with the language barrier! And, my salary was paid each month so I was happy enough with it!

Anyway, as the weeks started to go on, the bit of money I had left in my UK account to pay for things, such as storage, my UK SIM contract etc was beginning to dry out. So, I needed to send some money home to cover these expenses from my Spanish account via TransferWise. I wanted and needed to set up a monthly transfer.

The frustrations of internet banking…

With a bit of help and reassurance from a colleague, I’d managed to set up internet banking. I even translated some of the main ‘banking words’ to help identify more quickly where I needed to click when I was attempting to do it by myself. So, with that, I just assumed I was all set to check my balance and set up the payment I needed for back home. Oh, but how silly of me to think it would all be so straightforward!

I’d been trying, to no avail, to set up and transfer money to my UK account for a few days. I had all the relevant info that I needed, i.e, IBAN and BIC numbers, sort codes, account numbers, bank address of my local branch back home. You name it, I had it ready! And quite possibly most of it I probably didn’t need anyway!

No alternative but to head into the branch…

It had gotten to the stage where I knew I just wasn’t going to get anywhere. I knew that I had to go into a branch and seek assistance.

I decided to go one afternoon after work. I really dislike having to do these ‘adult’ tasks at the best of times, let alone in another country and in another language! At lunch time I’d written and translated exactly what I wanted to ask with the help of my old pal Google Translate!

The end of the day came and I stepped off the bus at the usual time. This branch wasn’t the one I’d set my account up in, but being on my way home it made more sense to come here so that I could still get the school bus as usual. I was all prepared with my ID and translations to tackle this next challenge of living abroad. I’d literally been psyching myself up all day. I was that nervous!

I get to the door, walk in, take a second to get my bearings on where the cashier is and walk towards the desk. I begin with ‘Hola,  pardon, no espanol.’ In order to prepare this poor cashier with my awkwardness and gormlessness and lack of the Spanish language right from the off!

Attempting the necessary transfer…

Her eyes roll and she sucks her top teeth with her tongue as she replies ‘No ingles.’ My stomach churns. This is going to be interesting I think to myself. Of course, I certainly wasn’t expecting anyone to speak English! It just makes me feel quite silly and arrogant that I have to do quite an important task when I don’t really have the basics of the language to communicate.

I began by handing over the translated notes that I had prepared at lunchtime. I feel that they are about the only thing that is going to help at this moment. She reads it and then puts her hand out gesturing for my bank details. She takes them and quietly taps away on her computer keyboard. This goes on for a few seconds but feels a lot longer. There seems to be a lot of tapping and typing and I begin to wonder what is going on. There is also a lot of tutting and head shaking as well as a continuation of top teeth sucking with her tongue. As I just sit there looking as useless and gormless as I feel no doubt! She turns to one of her colleagues, and all I keep hearing her say is ‘ingles.’ To which her colleague just responds ‘No.’ I can only assume she is asking him if there’s any chance he speaks English, as that’s the only part of the conversation I can really hear and manage to pick up on.

Suddenly, the phone rings. The cashier answers with, ‘Uno momento, ingles, hahaha!’ My translation of her phone answering; ‘You’ll have to wait a minute, I’m dealing with a gormless English person who decided to move here without bothering to learn the basics of Spanish!’ She then puts the phone down before continuing with her frantic typing on the keyboard. She comes to an abrupt stop. I am still non the wiser to what she has been typing. She still hasn’t shown me anything or gestured even. She looks as though she is carefully scanning the screen before turning the monitor to attempt to explain where I have been going wrong with my attempts with internet banking.

Missing relevant information…

Apparently, you are supposed to have a card with a unique number or code on it. Then one of the final steps in the process is to match a given number to the one on the card. So it’s like a security measure. Only, I didn’t know of, nor was I given said card when I was signing up that day with the member of HR. So, the cashier demonstrates what I need to do during this step tapping the information in and clicking enter once done. But, as soon as she clicks enter the computer just suddenly crashes and the screen goes black! I’m still feeling nervous, but at this precise moment just as annoyed and cheesed off as the cashier must be. I let out a nervous laugh. Wrong move! The cashier looks less than impressed. Sucking her top teeth once again.

With the computer sorted and back on, the cashier makes a second attempt. We get to the end this time and the final security step before the transaction is complete. Just waiting on a text to my Spanish number with yet another code to confirm. We wait a minute or so. No text. We wait another minute. Still no text! She tries asking me if I have given the bank the correct mobile number. ‘Si, si’ I reply. I am adamant that it is the correct number as I’d not long had the palaver of trying to add credit to it! We wait another couple of minutes, but still no text. She huffs loudly and snaps ‘I do it!’ Turns the monitor back around, gestures for my details once more and begins tapping away at the keyboard once again. A few minutes later she throws her hands up in the air and declares ‘Money gone!’ I just assume and hope that that translates to ‘sent’ and not ‘gone!’ But I am far too embarrassed to even attempt to prompt her declaration any further by this point. I collect all of my things and breathe a sigh of relief. I manage to nervously say ’ Muchos gracias.’ She replies with a smile and ‘Sorry.’ What the hell has she got to be sorry for? I quickly reply, ‘No, I’m sorry!’ We both smile and laugh as I turn to make my way back towards the door.

Making an exit only I could ever make!

I put my hand on the door handle and pull it to leave. Only, it doesn’t open. So I try again. Still, it doesn’t open! That’s odd! I look around. The cashiers aren’t taking any notice. They’re just busying themselves dealing with a final customer and tidying up for the evening. I look around the door frame and walls on either side. Why doesn’t it open? On one of the walls close to the door itself, I notice a button/switch. I automatically assume that it must be one of those security buttons that you get in some building societies back in England that you need to press in order to unlock and open the door. Like in Brittania before they closed down. So, I press it assuming that the door will unlock and open. Only, I quickly realise that it wasn’t a security button! It was a light switch! I inadvertently turn all the lights off in the bank leaving everyone in near darkness. In that split second, as soon as I realise what I’ve done, I swiftly press the switch again turning the lights back on and grab the door handle. This time pulling rather than pushing. Miraculously, the door opens! I can feel my cheeks burning and I daren’t turn around to the cashiers. I just make a very swift exit out of the building and into the crowd of commuters making their way home.

Feeling foolish but glad that that ordeal is done and sorted I just have to have a little giggle at my mishap! You seriously can’t make this stuff up! It can only happen to me! Somehow, I don’t think I’ll be able to go in that particular branch ever again! But, at least I know where I was going wrong and I now have the card with the numbers and security codes.

I get back to my apartment when suddenly my phone pings with a text, a bank text no less. Honestly!