auf dem Kriegspfad

Normally my blogposts are filled with cutesy turns of phrase and jokes about how much I love Germany. This blog post will be different, it will be like the drunken text you send to your ex boyfriend: you regret it the next morning, but it needed to be said at the time. Today's phrase means “on the warpath,” and I am ready to burn some shit down. Scorched earth, Sherman's March to the Sea, The Battle of Lakarian City-style

My problem is one, Sparkasse Financial Group. The last time I was in Germany I had Sparkasse as my bank and it was awesome. There were branches everywhere and the tellers were efficient and the fees were non-existent.

My current problem with German banking starting back in Radolfzell. As part of the program, we all opened bank accounts as a group so that GIZ knew our account numbers and was able to deposit our stipends in a timely fashion. Originally we were going to open our accounts with Postbank, which is somehow connected to the German postal service. Convenient since every town has a post office, and thus a branch of this bank. The language school took care of all the details for us, which, at the time, I thought was really nice. The Postbank fiasco went on for about a month, wherein our forms were filled out wrong and had to be redone, our forms were sent back on some other technicality, and eventually our forms were completely lost by Postbank. At this point it was the language school director's turn to be on the warpath. You don't know her, but Frau Heintze can be very imposing when she wants to be.

Frau Heintze is...you have to meet her. Off-topic: The CDC was so much better because of her.

It was then decided that we would all open up accounts with the Sparkasse, the entire process from leaving Postbank to getting my Sparkasse debit card took about a week. Damn fast. I was pleased. We were informed that we had online banking, and that all we had to do was tell them our new location when we moved and everything would be fine. Wunderbar!

It was all a pack of lies!

I got to Neubrandenburg and wanted to deposit some money in my shiny new Sparkasse account from my Bank of America account. I walked into the local branch and was met with a frowning cashier who informed me that depositing money into my own account would cost 10€. I asked why and was informed that I was a Sparkasse Singen-Radolfzell customer and not a Sparkasse Demmin-Neubrandenburg customer, which is the biggest load of bullshit I've heard since I was talking to the crazy lady in the Rosslyn Metro Station.

I tried to email my banker at the Sparkasse Singen-Radolfzell, but she has yet to respond (it's been 5 months). I also tried to use my online banking, but I need my banker's approval to log in the first time, and she won't respond. I then went to an ATM to print a statement, since I can't access it online and I can't use the teller service, and was surprised (read: livid) to discover that I had been wracked with fees for every time I'd used my card to do anything. I would later discover that the Language School had set up (accidentally, I assume) savings accounts for us, not checking accounts. Fan-fucking-tastic.

At about the same time, all of the other PPP'lers were making the same shitty discoveries that I was, and a flurry of emails were sent to our program about getting new bank accounts. They resoundingly denied that option, for a reason that was never fully explained to me.

But fine, it's shitty that I have a savings account, and that I can't actually use the bank tellers, and that I don't get online banking, and that I'm being charged fees constantly, but I still have access to my money.

And then...I needed to wire money (checks don't exist here) to my friend who payed upfront for our rental car to Cologne, so I went to the teller in the Sparkasse, and was informed that I had to use the wire transfer machine...in the lobby. I could have sworn I heard her say “back of the bus” under her breath, but then again maybe not. 

I go to the machine and it won't let me wire the money. It gives no explanation. I walk back in and ask the service desk what the problem is. Her response: “The problem is, you're not a customer here, so I can't even look at your account to see what the real problem is.”

I almost punched her.

So I guess my only solution is to withdraw the money in cash and strap it to a carrier pigeon bound for Leipzig. I don't care if this country is the financial powerhouse of Europe, their banking system is a load of garbage.

If you wake up tomorrow and there is a news report about a series of arson attacks against German financial institutions, don't be surprised. And also could you wire me bail money?

Quatsch

"My ancestor, King George IV, founded that University. And the bus you're talking about hasn't run in years."

Many times, talking to strangers can be a great way to get directions in an unfamiliar city. This is what my Midwestern roots told me as I walked out of the Rosslyn Metro Station in Washington DC. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me rewind.

Being the techno-savvy 20-something that I am, I Googled directions from Reagan Airport to Georgetown University before I left. The last 3 miles, Google said, I would have to walk myself with 55 lbs of luggage. This was clearly unacceptable. I searched around and found out that Georgetown runs a free shuttle bus to the nearest subway station. I figured this knowledge would be enough to get me to my destination fairly quickly. I was right...more or less.

Ok, restart.

I walk out of Rosslyn Metro Station and immediately see mounds of construction. I realize that this could derail my whole plan, so I go back into the station to get some water and ask directions to be sure. I set my luggage down and spot an older lady in the area. She says, to no one in particular, "Two more minutes and I'll leave without her." I'll admit right now that I'm a terrible judge of character...and mental health. But, I rationalize, Rain Man can give awesome directions; maybe she can too. I ask her across the room, "Do you know the best way to get to Georgetown University from here?"

What followed was a speech that lasted nearly as long as my flight to DC and covered all topics ranging from Obamacare to the (alleged and mistaken) closing of American University to this woman's (alleged and mistaken) family history with Georgetown University. She suggested I walk or take a tangle of "red buses" to get "near there." To clarify, I asked her about this shuttle I'd heard of and I got the opening quote for this post as a response. I thanked (cursed) her and left. I was unconvinced, but I decided that a native, even a crazy one, probably knew more than me about public transit. I started walking to get my bearings and trying to find this "red bus."

As I meandered I saw this woman no less than three more times. She didn't recognize me. This, right here, should have made me doubt her mass transit advice. At this point I was getting a little frustrated, it was approaching 105° and I was hungry, so I starting walking toward a nearby McDonalds, and be damned if I didn't stumble on that Georgetown shuttle! On the shuttle I met Sergio, who I learned was a cosmetologist from Tuscon. He will also be joining me in Germany. I had made two friends already!

The rest of the day has been tiring. Mostly lectures on the State Department, Germany, and alumni of the program. There are a lot of faces to memorize, but I'm doing well. Tomorrow should be more relaxed especially since it's a half day.

Today's German word is an interjection that means "nonsense" or "bullshit" and you should use if after someone tells you that Georgetown doesn't run a shuttle bus.