Settling in

Besides a feeling of "I'm dreaming and I don't want to wake up", much of our time is consumed with figuring out how to buy groceries, get a mobile phone, buy a car, and start a bank account.  Signe refused to share a joint checking account with me in 1982 and since that time we've kept separate accounts.  Yesterday, we decided to try a joint account again with mixed results. 

First, we went to a small bank with our gracious landlord who served as translator of both the French language and French banking policies. So, starting a simple checking account should be fairly...well, simple, right?  Not so fast madames et monsieurs!

It is the charming custom of this small bank, to first be greeted by a receptionist, who then directs the customer to a personal banker.  We were directed to Patrick, a bright young man who spoke  more Anglais than anyone else employed there.  Also, a personal and as it turns out, far more patient fellow than Mr. Linart.

We began by filling out the forms with me responding to Patrick's questions.  In truth, my lack of Francais made the process quite a difficult one.  Our interperter/landlord, Johnathon, assisted, but due to the fact he immigrated to Limoux from England brought in yet another language which proved somewhat difficult at times...English.  By working together, the four of us managed to finally complete the paperwork.  Then came Signe's turn which proceeded much more quickly. 

Two hours later and after signing our names in more places than a skateboarder has tatoos, we thought we wre finished.  Nope.

More documentation was required by the Bank.

We explained the French government had required this prior to issuing out visas.


The bank closed for the day.

Next day we brought the documentation.

Not good enough.

Tomorrow we try again.

This, mind you was about us DEPOSITING money into the bank.  Imagine trying to get it out...



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