The saga continues…

It’s the middle of January—not too late, I hope, to wish you a Happy New Year. 

This post won’t make much sense unless you read the last one!

I’m back at home, enjoying a sunny winter day with a fire in my kitchen woodstove, the snow sparkling on the fields, and the Mexican banking fiasco far from my mind. For now.

But I dropped in to visit a friend on my way home from taking my garbage to the dump yesterday morning, and she asked, “What’s going on with the bank in Mexico? I’ve been checking your blog to see if there’s an update…”

Sorry, folks. I guess I left you hanging. I hope it didn’t ruin your holidays.

It was a fiasco, indeed. After the banking interactions I described at the end of November, I finally settled on two options. The first, which came to me with a great sense of relief in the middle of the night, seemed foolproof. Return to Canada (without the money) and apply for a new passport—without my middle name. I’d have to make a second trip sooner than I’d like, but I’d be dealing with my own bureaucracy in my own language.

The second option, recommended by a couple of people who had experienced a similar problem, was to go to a notaria and have a document drawn up, witnessed by people who know me well, declaring that Paula Dunning and Paula Mae Dunning are one and the same. I still had time to do that and retrieve the money via cashier’s cheque. So, that became Plan A, and led to my third trip to the bank, document in hand.

Bank Visit Three

This time, I went with Monica, the daughter of my Mexican family who is, herself, a lawyer and a judge—currently a new mother on maternity leave. This situation isn’t her area of expertise, but surely, if anyone could help, she could. And god knows, she tried. We managed to see one of the second or third-level executives, at a desk, who listened attentively as Monica explained the situation. He made photocopies of everything I had in my bundle of materials, including the document verifying my identity. He then explained that he, himself,  couldn’t authorize anything, and neither could anyone else in the branch, but the document would be sent to Mexico City for authorization. (I assumed electronically—but maybe not. See below.) I would, he assured me, be good to go in five days—oh, except for one other document that would have to be approved after the first one got the okay. Time was ticking. I had only about ten days left before my flight back to Canada and Christmas with my grandchildren. I wasn’t sacrificing that. But I might make it.

Bank Visit Four

Five days later, the notaria—a wonderful woman who speaks both languages perfectly—came with me to the bank, only to be told, “No, we didn’t say five days, we said fifteen.” My Spanish leaves a lot to be desired, but I know the difference between cinco and quince. And just to be clear, Monica heard the same thing. But there was nothing more we could do. I used an indelicate word, thanked goodness the banker didn’t understand English, then realized that if he only knew one English word, that was probably it.

Clearly, I would not be returning home with the money. Time for Plan B.

I returned to Canada a few days before Christmas, and got home a few days after. One day last week I sauntered into the passport office in the Sault. I explained my dilemma to the folks there who proceeded to spend some time on their computers and made a phone call. They were very sympathetic, but I began to suspect the news would not be good.

“We can’t delete the middle name on your passport unless you have other government ID or your birth certificate without it.” Well, I don’t. 

It continues to puzzle me why, for many years, my passport was the only piece of ID that didn’t include either my full middle name or a middle initial. But they have tightened the rules here, and now your various IDs have to match—um, sort of like in Mexico. I know this is not unreasonable. I’ve just fallen through a crack at the bottom of which is a Mexican bank, and Mexican banks are not known for their customer service.

So, I am returning to Guanajuato in March. I’m actually looking forward to spending another month there at a time of year that is not particularly lovely here. Meanwhile, Monica and the notaria will be trying to confirm with the bank that the document verifying my identity has been approved. I have to believe it will be.

But now, I’m settling in to enjoy the winter–another oddly warm one, which I guess is the new normal. I’m quietly wishing for some of that real winter weather, the kind that makes you so glad you can stay inside by a fire!