Some simple bank transactions

Banking in Yemen is wildly chaotic. I go to the Arab bank which only has one branch in Aden. The reason that Amideast chose this bank as opposed to the National Bank of Yemen, or the CAC bank-both of which have dozens of branches in Aden- is unclear. To begin with the Arab Bank is only open on weekdays from 9:00 AM until 12:00 PM. I just so happen to have classes from 8:15 – 12:30. Which clearly makes banking difficult. When we opened our accounts we had to sign a dozen pieces of paper which, clearly, remained untranslated. Perhaps I signed away 30% of my paycheck to Somali refugees, I’m just not sure. Also when we signed the papers the signatures had to match exactly. They made Catherine sign her name over and over again until she could replicate it exactly. The more times they made her do it (while watching her like a hawk) the more nervous she got and her subsequent signature became highly erratic. We were like seriously? She’s sitting right here. You are literally watching her sign all the papers, you can SEE HER DO IT. How is this tricky or confusing in any way?!? As we signed paper after paper the banker just casually flung them into a pile on his chaotic, paper-strewn desk, and then, later, stuffed them into a plastic shopping bag. Umm..Cool.
Eventually, some weeks later I was informed that I could go back to the bank and pick up an ATM card- these cards seemingly only work for Arab Bank ATM’s, the search for which has proven fruitless. I presented myself at the bank and pantomimed the ATM card motion and they gestured me over to another banker. I signed some more papers and then he upended a grocery sack full of ATM cards on his desk. There were literally hundreds of cards strewn about his desk and he literally grabbed handfuls of cards at a time, inspecting each one for my name. All around the bank were stacks of papers, open binders, and bags full of money and cards. Arab Bank: Purveyors of total monetary chaos from 1984. Glad to see all of my finances are in such capable hands.

The Arab Bank has a branch in Sana’a. I went there after my robbery fiasco to try and put a hold on my account. I went there in the vain hope that-without any ID or banking documents they would somehow, inexplicably, allow me to access my account and put a hold on it. I went to a banker and told him what happened- with the aide of a bilingual guy. I asked if I could please temporarily suspend all activity on my account, that I am unable to provide documentation of who I am, but I don’t particularly want the thief to be able to withdraw all my finances. He was like, oh okay sure. He had me spell out my name and then come behind his desk and look at the account on the computer. “Is this you?” he asked while pointing to the screen. Luckily it was. But seriously? They let me waltz right on into a branch of the bank I’d never been to before, say my name, and then point to a computer screen FULL OF PEOPLE’S PERSONAL ACCOUNTS and point out which one was mine. On the screen were names, socials, account numbers, balances, the whole bit. What if it wasn’t mine? Or why did they unhesitatingly believe me when I pointed out which account was mine? What a shoddy operation. But at the time I really appreciated it. On a piece of blank paper they had me write a letter to the bank manager of the Aden branch, asking for my account to be suspended. That was all.
AND THEN THEY ASKED ME IF I WANTED ANY MONEY. So without any ID or bank cards, not even a copy of my passport, you are going to allow me to walk in, withdraw money AND shut down a personal bank account? YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS. Oh but they were.
When I returned to the Aden branch I wrote out on a piece of paper that I was back in Aden and wanted to resume access to my account. And it was done. Voila, third world banking!