This will just take a minute, right?

I wonder how old I will be when I finally accept the truism that everything will take five times longer than I think it should, and no doubt cost at least twice as much. I keep thinking I finally understand, but then it happens again and I find myself caught by surprise.

4 days earlier: It’s the first full day of my summer break and I was going to the bank as long planned. (The banks here close everyday at 3 pm. Only the rare few are open for a few hours on Saturday, so this was the first chance I had to go to the bank in a long time.) I needed to transfer some of my earnings to my bank in Kansas and I had all of the information I could possibly need – or so I think.

I walk into the lobby to find it predictably packed. When I went to get a number, there was a computer screen that I assume was asking what kind of business I wanted to conduct. As I had no idea what anything said, I simply hit one of the buttons and got a number. Turns out it didn’t really matter what button I pressed as after a few minutes of sitting patiently, a bank representative approached me. I can only guess some alarm went off in the back rooms when I sat down – Gaijin alert! Gaijin alert! It’s this kind of discrimination that I appreciate, however, so I showed her the piece of paper that Nobie had so thoughtfully written in Japanese saying that I wished to send money to America. The lady led me to an out-of-the-way cubicle and handed me a very long form which, to my surprise, actually did have some English translations on it. Unfortunately, as I understood from the English, it was asking all kinds of information that I hadn’t a clue. What is the address of the bank that I wish to transfer the money to? What is the branch name? The phone number? Huh?

I filled out as much of the information that I could while unbeknownst to me, the lady found a young guy that spoke some English to help the whole interaction. Unfortunately, I just as little success explaining to him that I didn’t know that address, phone number, branch name of my American bank. I did have the bank’s routing number which I still believe is the only real information they needed. They didn’t actually have to physically go there. I ended up writing down an approximate address (I knew the cross-streets and town). Eventually, we reached a point where I didn’t really think I could give them anymore data and they accepted that they probably could do the transaction with the scant information I had provided. Then, of course, I had to wait another 15 minutes. I have no idea why. Finally, the lady came back with a bunch of paperwork and the gentlemen said it would take about a week for the money to go through. And I thought we were living in the age of technology. Foolish me. And not only was it going to take much longer than I thought; it cost, say it with me, three times more than I thought it would.

I wouldn’t presume to say that I have learned my lesson, but I am one step closer.

- Jenny