Banking

How the Credit Crunch will affect Britain
Funmi Iyanda's
Mutiu Okediran September 26, 2008

The life and works of an English girl in Milan - no singing waiters, fields of sunflowers or quaint 'bel paese' anecdotes allowed!

GIOVEDÌ 7 FEBBRAIO 2008
Don't bank on it
I hate going to the bank. I hate it because I know that I will enter a calm, contented (well, almost!), human being, and exit a rabid animal. I am not the only person I know who feels a certain amount of animosity towards the Italian banking system and the people who 'manage' it - yet this is little comfort for the raised blood pressure I feel for about 2 hours after every visit! Italian banking is expensive. The system is overloaded with charges, taxes, and fees – most of which are linked to the disproportionate amount of paperwork which accompanies even the most basic of operations (a bit like in Italy as a whole – but that’s a whole other story…). Bank workers are overpaid (around twice the national average), customer care is non-existent, and branches open for just 5 or 6 hours per day, and never on a Saturday.
Coming from a country where banking is (for the time being at least) free of charge, I was shocked when I opened my first bank account in Italy and was immediately slapped with a 30 euro per-month fee by the stealth-charge guru of my local branch, Massimo. This was as a result of the 'non-residents' route which I was apparently forced to take whilst sorting out my paperwork, and included expensive 'extras' which not even Massimo & co. were able to explain in a coherent fashion. A whole six months later, I was back with Massimo trying to sort out my impossibly-complex online access codes (involving many phone calls, trips to the branch, and yet more raised blood pressure). As I mentioned that I was unhappy with the disproportionate fees which I was being forced to pay, Massimo’s colleague (who I believe just sits behind her desk staring at a blank computer screen as I’ve never seen her use the keyboard) pointed out that, with a full-time, permanent job and a fixed address, I was actually eligible for a regular resident’s account and therefore didn’t need to be paying the exorbitant monthly charge! Well, that’s all very well, but what about the 180 euros that I had paid out instead of 60 for the past six months? This was my first question. The answer, not surprisingly, was along the lines of “We don’t give refunds”. Hmmm. Needless to say, the 10 euro per month fee with which I was presented for my new account, turned out to be 15 a month. Apparently, they don’t include taxes when they explain charges, which is funny because my company also forgets to mention them when discussing pay rises…
The last time I went into the bank, I had a Barclays cheque in euros which I needed to pay into my account. This was the long-awaited, blood, sweat and tears compensation from Easyjet for the suitcase which went on holiday by itself and never came back. At the moment, it’s sitting with a glass of red, feet up on the balcony, watching the sunset over the ocean…. I digress. Anyway, I underwent the usual 10 hour wait behind the 4 million other customers, for the attention of the one and only cashier in the branch at lunchtime on a Monday. As I waited, I played a little game in my head of ‘guess who moves the slowest ’ – seriously I feel like I’m watching a film in slow-motion every time I go in that place! 10 hours later, I presented my cheque and the cashier looked at it like she had no idea what it was. Seriously. “Is there a problem?” I ask. “Er, hang on a minute” she replies, and slo-mos over to the colleague who sits staring at the computer screen without moving. They put their heads together, looking confused, and I start to wonder whether I have actually given them a cheque or if I’ve accidentally pulled my lunch vouchers out, and now they’re deciding where to go eat…. Nope, it’s definitely a cheque. The woman comes back and, looking pleased with herself, announces “I couldn’t tell who it was paid out to – see, the print is quite small here” – and she points to my name, printed in bold black ink, next to the words “Payee”. I guess it’s an easy mistake to make. Especially when you work in a bank. So, once again, I left like a rabid animal, late for lunch and feeling frustrated that bank workers are paid twice the national average salary for a six-hour day which appears to involve: giving people the wrong information, over-charging at every possible opportunity, staring blankly into the space between your eyes and the computer screen, and searching for the payee’s name on a standard cheque. We should all work harder to keep up with these high standards

Jan 27, 2008

My sister’s house was robbed a few weeks ago. The robber was smart enough that he didn’t take any heavy thing. He was able to find the money my sister and brother-in-law saved. He took a the entire $5,000. It was a big shock to my sister. She said she hid it well in the house, but she wasn’t smarter than the robber whose main job is to be smart in finding money and valuable stuff.

My sister did not put the money in any bank for several reasons. There were a lot of incidents reported that insurgents and militias hover over the areas where banks are located. They wait for preys to kill and take their money to buy weapons and pay their fighters their monthly salaries. The other reason is that banks are not reliable in Iraq. If something happens to the bank, the government won’t be able to compensate the people. So, my sister saved the money at home!

After the robbery, my sister and brother-in-law have become torn. They didn’t know what to do with money. Should they put it in a bank and expose themselves to the danger of being robbed in the streets, or keep it at home and get robbed again. So, they finally decided to put it in bank. And here where all the shock came.

My brother-in-law went to al-Rafidain Bank, one of the famous banks in Baghdad that has branches everywhere in the country. They went to the branch in Ilwiyah neighborhood, near Karrada. As soon as he got in, he noticed that the bank was neglected. Dust was everywhere, the smell of cigarettes filled every room there. From behind the counter, one of the employees gave him the bad news.

You are not registered in this neighborhood. You can’t open a bank account unless you live here!!!!!

My brother-in-law was completely shocked! He has his parents having bank accounts in areas outside their neighborhood and this news was new to him. He asked the employee again, but she insisted that he cannot do it. “These are new orders from the ministry of finance. It’s the government law,” she told him.

To his dismay, my brother-in-law and sister left the bank and went to al-Rasheed Bank, another famous bank in Iraq. The employees there told him exactly what the al-Rafidain Bank employee said.

“They must be kidding me,” he said. “Probably they need a bribe or something." He tried to convince the second lady that he can buy her some prepaid cards for her cell phone. She told him she would happily take them, but there was nothing she could do. It’s a new law.

So, the couple went to another branch of al-Rasheed Bank in Zayoona neighborhood where my brother-in-law’s sister lives. The exact thing happened. My brother-in-law got very angry and asked the employee to meet the manager of the bank. When my brother-in-law saw the manager, whose cigarettes never left his purple-colored lips, he was shocked again when the manager told him why he is even thinking of opening a bank account. He told him it’s better to save it at home! Then, the manager said that he cannot do anything about it. They cannot open bank accounts to those who are not living in that neighborhood. It’s the law!!

So my sister and brother-in-law resented to the fact that they cannot do it unless in their neighborhood which they didn’t trust. They drove back to where they live and went to the bank in the neighborhood. When they asked the employee there about opening a bank account, she told them they are not opening bank accounts now to people because “they don’t have check books.”

Hysterically, my brother-in-law went to the Zayoona bank account again and met with the same manager and told him that there should be a way of doing it. The manager felt bad for my brother-in-law. He told him we can do it, but you have to go through a series of long bureaucratic procedures in order to open the bank account. He asked him to bring a letter of recommendation from the Mukhtar mayor-like official of the neighborhood to prove that his sister lives here. Secondly he has to go to the municipality of his neighborhood to prove that he lives there. And so they did. After a lot of effort to convince their neighborhood municipality, they finally got the letter and my brother-in-law’s sister contacted the Mukhtar who wrote them a letter of recommendation to take along with the other documents. Tomorrow, they will go to the bank and open a bank account.

When my sister told me about all of this just a few hours ago, I got so frustrated. First of all, it’s just a bank account. Secondly, and most importantly, what kind of new law is this? You can’t open a bank account in a bank outside your neighborhood? Isn’t that totally sectarian? Isn’t the government supposed to open the barriers and bring the people together after they were divided by them? Is there any other explanation that this government is dividing the people and the country in every aspect of life? Now because my brother-in-law is a Sunni, he cannot open a bank account in the Shiite neighborhoods? But my sister is a Shiite?!!! What should she do to open a bank account? Get a divorce?

The minister of Finance is Bayan Jabur Solagh? Familiar?! Of course, he was the Interior Minister under Jaafari’s era. He was the leader of the Iranian-trained Badr troops whose crimes were obvious to everyone. Wasn’t it enough that the militia he headed drill-tortured Iraqi civilians and killed them afterwards?

All those Sunni, Shiite, Kurd, and even the secular exiles who came to power are nothing but a bunch of killers. They did nothing to improve the lives of people. They even destroyed the few things people enjoyed Saddam.They came to take revenge not from Saddam but from the Iraqi people who lived under his tyranny. I can’t see any hope in this country any more. It’s governed by thugs, by haters and by a group of “people” whose loyalty is to their parties and the countries that hosted them, not to their wounded country and its people.

Meelika

Hello, boys and girls!

my new enemy: SPARKASSE

You might wonder where this anger comes from. It's simple.

A week ago my wallet was stolen from my room, from my purse. Lap- top was not taken. I only noticed the next day when I wanted to go and buy myself a lunch. No lunch for me that day. I assumed I must have left the wallet at home... I changed my mind about it when I searched my room and didn't find anything. Then I remembered what my neighbour said about a man in 40-s, with curly hair (Andres, you???) trying to enter my room. Probably he wanted to go back to get something more. I doubt he was planning to return my wallet.

Well, so I called my mother and asked to close my card in Hansapank (which is a nice bank and we love Hansapank! But we hate Sparkasse!) Closing the card didn't cost me anything. Then I made the call to the Sparkasse... They automatically charged 36 EUR (561.60 EEK) for doing one mouse click. So their logic goes like this:

European Volunteer who works for the benefit of Austrian people and is already poor as rat gets a wallet stolen. Damage is done by a thief. Maybe the thief really needed some food money... Whatever. Stealing from a person who already has little is just mean. But then again- rich Sparkasse ("Spar" means "to save" in german) hears your problem and says if you don't want to lose all the money you have to close the card and that costs 36 EUR. I got a note from police listing down all the things I lost and I was told if I show this I don't have to pay for a new card. In Thiefkasse they just told they can't do anything. I've already been without a money for a week, now as I finally managed to find the time they were actually opened (most of the time they're closed, lunch break from 12.30-14.00 and they close at 16.30) they were happy to steal some more.

I asked them to give me the money still left on my account (which was now only 23 EUR) and developed well fare society bank acted following: Lady in the bank takes a piece of paper, with no logo or certificate number, writes with a pencil my account and the sum of money and asks me to sign... I do it. Then she gives me money and takes the settle which is supposed to be confirmation of payed money. I get no copy.

I started wondering on the way back what could have possibly cost to Sparkasse that much to ask 36 EUR from closing an account... Especially as in Estonia, Sweden, Hungary, Slovenia etc no money is taken. I couldn't understand the special conditions Austrian banks are suffering in. But when I started thinking how they still don't know how to use the computer and write on a plain small white piece of paper, don't give copies.... well, maybe people who can even sit behind computer are so appreciated that they need to be earning bonuses doing one mouse click. Bonus worth 36 EUR.

It could be a nice strategy of the bank to ask homeless people to steal wallets. They get what's inside and 10 EUR from each wallet, bank still earns from every stolen case 26 EUR. Imagine the profit!

And weird, as I was standing there, feeling double fooled, being angry, disappointed and feeling how unfair it is... I see all the people dressed in national clothes, giving coffee and cookies, toys... To poor looking people, or homeless people (not sure) and I was thinking why nobody offers me anything...
Then again, it could have been one of the motivation weeks, or a training how to steal double from a volunteer who has left her/his country in order to work for the well fare society of Austria.

This is how it works here, a day before a holiday.
Letherhosen and dresses with corsets, women wearing pony tales and giving cookies and with a nice smile also serving you that you just gave us a gift of 36 EUR because some bastard got into your room and stole your wallet.

I guess I am not going to Prague this weekend after all.