I Decide on my Bank Of Choice in Mexico

By now I am seriously short of cash. It is Friday at about 3:30, so I’d better get stocked up on pesos before the banks close for the weekend!

On my last trip to Mexico, I learned that exchanging traveler’s cheques is troublesome and that my credit cards and cash cards did not work in any ATM. This was in Oaxaca. What did work was to go into any bank and ask the teller for a cash advance from my credit card. I pay my credit card in advance, before leaving Canada, so that I do not have to pay interest on the cash advance. I don’t even know the PIN for my credit cards, since it was of no use on my last trip to Mexico.

I enter the first bank I see after leaving the bus station in Merida. I line up. There is a big end-of-week crowd. Finally, it is my turn. I ask the teller for a cash advance. No, she can’t do that. I am shocked! I tell her this bank is stupid. ‘Estupido’ in Spanish is a real insult, much stronger than ’stupid’ in English. I am sorry for my comment the moment it leaves my mouth. It is true, this is a stupid bank, but it is not the teller’s fault. But I am frustrated, and I can see a puff of panic on the horizon.

There are other banks. It is not yet 4:00.

Bank #2. Same thing, minus the ’stupid’ comment. And with less shock, but a bit more panic.

Bank #3. I short-circuit the long line-up for a teller, and try the information desk. No, the teller can’t provide a cash advance. Try the ATM.

It is now almost 4:00 - closing time for the banks. Panic is now at the door, with me on the other side, holding it at bay.

There is one more option left - the HSBC, which closes, as it turns out, at 7:00. Given their more customer-friendly hours, I have some hope that they can help me.

When I ask for a cash advance at this bank, the teller asks me to go to the customer service desk to see if they can help me. This does not sound good, but it is not actually a no. Stil, I am uneasy.

At the service desk, the young man has better English than any of the other banking staff I’ve talked to so far on this nail-biting exercise. This is good, as the effort to hold off the panic is rotting my already tenuous grasp of Spanish.

He explains that they don’t have the machine to process a credit card at this branch, but their other branch has one! The other branch is just around the corner.

I proceed to the other branch. After a long wait, I discover that I should take a number. On one of the desks, I find a pocket, made of paper taped to a bit of cardboard, filled with cardboard squares, each with a hand-written number on it. Not exactly professional, but full marks to the staff for initiative.

I take a number and sit down. I am not in a good mood. I take out my frustration and worry on the card, picking at one of the corners. The little card no longer has sharp corners by the time my number is called.

Finally, it is my turn. She takes my request as if it ere the most common task at the bank, something she did all day.

Soon, I am leaving the bank, with a pocket full of Pesos.

I’m not one to promote brands, but when it comes to banking in Mexico, HSBC is the only way to go!

Last Modified : May 24th, 2007
Filed under : Mexico 2006
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