A Short Letter Home

Got change for a twenty?

Well, today I performed what my friend Marty terms a "stupid foreigner trick". The "stupid" came in when I left my phrasebook at home. The trick started a bit before then.

Like most teachers, Yau Neih uses books for her classes. In her case, the book that's used is chosen by the college authorities. To hear the foreign teachers tell it--the book is awful. It was obviously written for English as a Second Language students living in the United States. (as opposed to English as a Foreign Language students in China) It also appears to have been a 4-color book reprinted as a 2-color for the Chinese market. My main clue to this is one page where you have different people pictures with their hair color indicated: brown, blond, grey, etc. It makes no sense to indicate such things when the only crayons you have to use are black and magenta. Anyway, our teachers make due and, since the students paid good money to buy these books, they try to use them the best they can.

So, a couple weeks ago, Michael came by and wondered if we had any American money on us. His next lesson was dealing with currency and given the origins of the book, they were talking about dollars and cents. The pictures, however, were quite small and he wanted to show the class the real thing, if possible. Well, it turns out that I did have some bills--two twenties, a ten and some singles--and a nice little stash of change. (In those last hectic days before we left, I had tossed the coins in my suitcase.) So I lent it to him and the students were quite delighted to see some authentic American artifacts.

Fast forward a couple of weeks. Now it's Yau Neih's turn to give the lesson to her class. But perfectionist that she is, she couldn't settle for my incomplete collection of American gelt. She wants a fiver to complete the collection. (Yeah, I know, we were also missing the 50 and 100. But why show bills to the class that we don't see that often?) The question was, from where do we get it? It's not like we discovered a coin and stamp shop in town. Anyway, our first plan was to ask around the expatriate community. Alas, nobody was carrying greenbacks. Or at least not chump change like $5. So our next step was to hit the bank.

Actually, I should specify that we hit the bank that's holding our U.S. dollars. When Yau Neih gets paid, the college automatically deposits her pay in an account the set up at the Agricultural Bank. However, the Ag isn't allowed to handle U.S. funds. When we showed up here with our start-up stipend in U.S. dollars, we had to set up an different account at the Bank of China. Weird, I know. I hope I never have to find out which bank handles euros.

Anyway, this morning Yau Neih and I walked over to the BoC. We get to the bank, and, as is our custom, I head towards the tellers and she goes to sit on the couch. I handed her my umbrella and reach for my phrasebook. #$%$^! I forgot my phrasebook. I mean, it was bad enough that I didn't try and figure out what I was going to try and say before I left home. But now I can't even say the word for withdrawal. Rather than make a complete idiot of myself... correction. I already had done the making part. Rather than reveal my idiocy for all the tellers to see, I decided to just head back home and come back with my phrasebook in the afternoon. Such was my plan. Did I mention my wife was a perfectionist? Well, she is. And perfection, in her mind, does not consist of walking to the bank and then turning around without attempting to complete one's business. She politely volunteered to break tradition and attempt to get the five dollars herself. This really challenged my pride. Not that I was worried about Yau Neih making an idiot of herself. Rather it was that, since BoC doesn't do joint accounts, she would have to take my bankbook and my passport to the teller who would undoubtedly ask (in Chinese) why the heck I'm sitting on the couch and making her do the banking. Anyway, thus I was shamed into making the attempt myself.

I went up to the teller and gave her my bankbook. I wasn't even sure that the BoC would have five dollar bills, so I asked "yo may yo wu USD?" "Do you or don't you have five USD?" She ignored what I said and asked (I think) if I wanted that converted to the local currency. Actually she asked that a couple of times and I answered "No, USD." a couple of times in return. That's been my experience in communicating across the language barrier. You say some things and they say some things and bit by bit you both figure out enough to handle your business. Anyway, I finally got across the idea that I wanted US currency. The next challenge was to specify the amount. She kept saying "wu bai"--500. I kept specifying "wu"--5. What I wouldn't have given for the ability to say "just five" in Chinese. Anyway, it actually got to the point where she had run a transaction and pulled out a stack of bills. This was good in the sense that there were one dollar bills on top of the stack, which implied that they might have a fiver. It was bad in the sense that she started counting out $500. That's when I started waving my hands and repeating "Boo! Boo! Boo!" "No! No! No!" (I have to admit, it's a lot more fun to say this in Mandarin than probably any other language.) Finally, I got my point across. "You just want five dollars?" she sort of said. I nodded enthusiastically. Then I received the dirtiest look I've ever gotten in China and was asked to sign a couple of slips. Basically I had just withdrawn $500 and then deposited $495. Then I was given my bankbook, a precious five dollar bill and, surprisingly, a smile. I thanked her and gave her the only apologetic phrase I know--"dway boo chee".

All I can say after that is: if any of Yau Neih's students try to snatch our U.S. money, please.... take the twenty.

posted by John @ 6:59 AM