We've all heard about the bureaucratic nightmares accompanied with living in France, but I honestly didn't think anywhere could be worse than India. I was wrong. Setting up a bank account here has been so complicated it's almost comical. Almost.
I had my father help me while he and my mum were visiting and we conveniently decided to begin our quest on a Monday... when almost every single bank in Paris is closed. We did eventually find one that was open after calling around, however they were conveniently not open from 12-2pm. Of course. Why would anyone be open during lunch? That would be madness.
We paused our search to eat and returned at 2pm only to be told by the bank teller that they couldn't possibly open an account for me because I was an international. I must go to the international branch of the bank.
Very well. We walked about 25 minutes to the international branch with all of my paperwork, ready to give it another go. Side note: I'm not even going to list the paperwork required because that alone will give you a headache. Arriving at the international bank, we were told that the minimum for opening an account was €10 million. I don't think that's what we had in mind... They explained that the branch we had gone to previously is perfectly capable of opening an account for me but they're constantly sending people over to the international branch. At least I wasn't the first confused étrangère to walk in there.
They sent us a few blocks down to another branch that "should be able to" help us. Finally, this was true, but we had to make an appointment. We set up a rendez-vous for Thursday morning and confirmed with them which paperwork we would need. We left a little tired and irritated but feeling confident that I would have a bank account on Thursday. Wrong. So very wrong.
Thursday rolled around and we arrived several minutes early, but were still seen late. After going over the basics of the account, the teller explained that the paperwork I had brought with me was insufficient (even though they're the ones who told me what to bring) and I would need to get another document proving my residence in France. Can I go print it and bring it back to you? No. Can I set up the account and give it to you as soon as I leave via email? No. We must set up another appointment. When was their earliest available appointment? Next Wednesday, almost a week later...
At this point, my parents had left and I was nervous about my French skills but I went back on the Wednesday and breathed a huge sigh of relief when she told me all of my paperwork was in order. I then sat there signing my life away for about an hour switching back and forth between French and English with the nice bank lady. Okay, it is good. It's open? I'm done? Oui! And when the bank checks everything out, you can have your bank card. Pause. THERE'S ANOTHER STEP?!
I wanted to scream and tear up all the paperwork. Instead, I went home and waited patiently. About a week later, I received an email saying that my bank account had been validated and I could come retrieve my carte bancaire at my earliest convenience. Naturally, I went in later that afternoon... only to be told that No no no, it was validated today so your card will be ready at the end of the week. Pause. What? And no, you can't pay your landlord yet even though your account exists and there is money in it. I sat there dumbfounded and exhausted. I left and waited for Friday.
On Friday, I returned to retrieve my bank card without the paperwork that was, without my knowledge, sitting happily in my mailbox that I never check. By some miracle (more likely their pity for me), they still gave it to me and I was able to pay my landlord with the help of the teller. At least I won't be homeless on Monday! The catch? I still couldn't use my card now that I had it because I must find the right code buried in one of the ten letters they sent me and then activate it on a machine.
Isn't this fun?
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