I can’t tell you the number of times I have had a strange or inexplicable experience in China and thought, “I really must blog about this.” I think most of our readers (excluding my in-laws) would probably prefer to read about our China adventures rather than see picture after picture of Seth, no matter how cute those pictures are. Well, today I had one such experience, and since I am dreadfully behind on lesson planning anyway, I thought I would take the time to tell you about it and get even further behind.
After moving into our new apartment, I discovered that I really couldn’t find a lot of the things I was looking for in the stores, or when I could, I thought they were substantially overpriced. (As an example, coffee makers at the Chinese version of Circuit City cost about $100. That’s U.S. dollars, not R.M.B.) I found myself spending more and more time on Amazon.com searching for the items I wanted, which wasn’t really a viable option anyway since Amazon doesn’t ship most of its stuff internationally and charges an arm and a leg when they do. Benjamin’s language partner suggested that we look at TaoBao.com, China’s version of eBay. Now, I would love to tell you that my written Chinese has improved to such an extent that I am able to shop on TaoBao.com unaided, but the truth is that nearly all of the credit goes to the Google toolbar translator. But with my bad Chinese and the Google translator, I was soon navigating around the site and finding some of the things I was looking for.
Well, it might have been better if I hadn’t been able to find anything I wanted to buy because that’s when the trouble began. I put a few things in my cart, like a sewing machine and a coffee maker and an electric drill and went to check out. And that’s when I ran into problem number one: they don’t take international credit cards. Instead, I have to use AliPay, a program similar to PayPal in the States, which transfers money directly from a bank to the TaoBao seller. Okay, that doesn’t sound too bad; I’ll just sign up. After all, I have an account at one of the three largest Chinese banks, so it shouldn’t be a problem. Oh, but it is. Problem number two: you can’t sign up for AliPay online; you have to go to the bank to do it.
Benjamin asked a student to go with us to the bank to help us set up such an account. It didn’t take long at all. We paid 30 R.M.B. for a little thing that looks like a flash drive. Before we left the bank an employee there downloaded all the necessary files and helped me set up a password. I got home and pulled up TaoBao to pay for the items I had already agreed to purchase. I inserted my flash drive at the appropriate time and then problem number three reared its ugly head: my password was incorrect. Now, I can tell you that I was completely, totally, 100%, no-doubt-about-it certain of my password. I had entered it three times while at the bank, and it wasn’t something I would forget. I tried again. And again. And again. And then I was locked out.
So yesterday I asked another student to go back to the bank with me to get my flash drive reactivated and hopefully find out what went wrong. I met him there around two o’clock. We got our number and waited for maybe fifteen minutes. When it was our turn, we went up to the window, and Joe explained the situation. No problem, they assured us. We can do that, they promised. Just hand over your bank card and passport, they said, and we will be happy to oblige.
The bank associate looked over my things, swiped my bank card, had me enter my ATM code—pretty routine stuff. But then his boss wandered over and started looking over his shoulder. And his boss said, “The name on your account is different from the name on your passport.”
“Huh?” I said.
“Your passport says ‘SCHILLER’ here and ‘LAURIE ELAINE’ here, but your account says “LAURIE SCHILLER.”
“Oh, well, nobody ever uses their middle names in the States, and our surnames come last.”
“Well, this is China, and it needs to be done the Chinese way.”
True, the Chinese put their family name first and their given names last, but they also call people by their family names rather than their given names, so it kind of makes sense. Regardless, why is this coming up now when I opened this account a year and a half ago? Why does it even matter? I’m obviously who I say I am; I have the signed passport to prove it, and the signature on the back of my bank card matches it, and here are my credit cards that say “Laurie Schiller” on them and have my signature on the back too, and I can sign something else to prove it to you if you want me to.
Have I mentioned that this counts as problem number four?
The bank employees decided that the name on my account needed to be changed to SCHILLER LAURIE ELAINE. Now, this wouldn’t really be that big of a problem if they would just change it in their computer and let me get on with my life. But instead they had to close my old account and open a new one for me. This involved filling out about ten forms—all in Chinese, of course—and waiting about an hour. Then after I had filled out and signed all the forms, they asked me why I had signed my name incorrectly.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “That’s how I sign my name.”
Yep, they made me redo all the forms, this time signing them Schiller Laurie Elaine, which is NOT my name, but I didn’t really care at that point.
Now we are running out of time because Joe has class at 3:40. I figured since we were about done with this name change business, we could get the flash drive reactivated and be on our way. Ha! That would be all too easy. Problem number five: “We’re sorry. There’s been some kind of system error and the bank is unable to issue you a new account at this time. Please come again in three to five business days.”
And that’s all the explanation I got. I don’t even know if I can withdraw money from my account between now and when I go back or even if my money is still in existence.
Joe apologized as we were leaving, which was sweet of him. He said even Chinese people have a hard time communicating with bank officials. He was worried that the experience had changed my opinion of China.
While we were waiting at the bank, Joe asked me why I had come to China. It’s a common enough question, and a valid one too. I have a stock answer that I like to give when people ask me that. It’s close to the truth without setting off any warning signals. But when Joe asked me today, I just said, “I don’t know, Joe. Sometimes I really don’t know.”
