472: The trials and tribulations of being an expat

 expat (UK informal) = a person who lives outside their native country

The sun must be over the yardarm somewhere so I'm going to have a beer (and some chocolate), to help me calm down.  

I don't think it matters which foreign country you're living in, sooner or later you come across differences in the way people do things as opposed to the way things are done in your own country/system. And you start to wonder WTF are you doing here. Why are the local people doing things in such an illogical way that doesn't make any sense at all. 

The problem with their Spanish logic started for me yesterday and continued today.  I went to the local adult education centre to confirm my registation for year 2 Spanish. Miryam, my teacher from year 1, was sitting in the entrance hall transcribing everybody's details THREE TIMES onto a piece of A4 paper. No wonder there was a queue of people outside waiting to register. 

Miryam is a great teacher. As a language teacher myself I understand how difficult it can be teaching a class of >20 people especially when those people come from many different countries and have different cultures. But, the centre has had all our details from the beginning of summer when we first expressed an interest in the course. Would it really have been so difficult to use IT to append our details to the form and have a form printed off and waiting? Let me assume for the moment that GDDR (General Data Protection Regulation) was the show-stopper, as it is for so many other things. Then perhaps 2 pieces of carbon paper would have obviated the need to write our details 3 times?

The form, that Miryam so adroitly completed for us, in triplicate, was to allow us to pay 84,30 Euros for tuition and materials for the whole of the academic year. Miryam, being a teacher, and not an accountant, couldn't possibly take the money from us. That would be far too simple. We were offered two choices (when it should have been four!): take the form to BBVA bank in Salou and pay there or make an appointment over the telephone to go to the local town hall and pay there. We then had to take the stamped receipt back to the education centre to prove we had paid. The two choice we weren't offered were: one, to take the form to our own bank and arrange the transfer or two, to make an internet transfer from the comfort of our own home. I considered making an internet payment but what proof would I have had?

So, I went to BBVA this morning as it opened at 08:30 to try and get there before any queues built up. Ha ha! As soon as you get inside the door you have to print off a number and you get seen when your number appears on a screen. Fair enough. The trouble was that the first question, before you get your number, is 'are you a customer of the bank?'  As soon as you say no, everybody coming in behind you, who is a customer of the bank, gets served first. I had to wait 30 minutes to get seen. Disgusting. I asked the guy for help with the machine as I walked in and I think that got his back up so he made me wait as long as he possibly could. That's been my experience with Spanish 'officialdom' over the last 4 years - if you annoy them in the slightest they take great delight in messing you about to the maximum extent possible. Because they can. There was only one cash counter open, instead of two, so things moved along half as fast as they might have. It was also 'fun' watching two bank staff sloping off for coffee as soon as the bank opened at 08:30. I saw them coming back at 09:00 as I was leaving. Why couldn't they have gone at 08:00 before customers started to arrive?

One more thing, while I'm in the mood! I landed at Barcelona Terminal 2 on Wednesday evening and decided to take a bus to Salou rather than a series of three trains. The first Plana bus to arrive turned out to be a ticket bus rather than a bus that takes people anywhere. The driver sells you a ticket and you then have to wait for the 'real' bus to come so you can give the driver the ticket you have just bought. Of course you have no idea whether the bus you need is going to arrive on time or not but, having bought a ticket, you are committed and have to wait.

 That was cathartic. I'm feeling better now. Rant over. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible.