Oh, BCA

BCA (Banco Comercial do Atlântico) is the bank Peace Corps uses here in Cape Verde, hence, the bank we use. We like to call it “No man’s land,” “that place we refuse to go,” and “air-conditioned hell.” Well, Lamar lost his card in the ATM machine at the airport. When we realized what had happened, we were instantly panicked. We were not worried about the card, not having money, etc. No, we both instantly realized what this meant: we would have to go into BCA….and not our local BCA, but the main branch, which is just a bigger, meaner, worse version of the smaller BCAs around here.

Monday morning we woke up early and headed to the bank. We got there at 7:50….there was already a group of people outside. We joined the group. At 8:02, a line formed outside the bank, but it was still not open. At 8:07, the bank opened its doors. We took our number for line A to get money out and a number for line B to request a new card. That’s right: you cannot do that at one place (that would be too efficient). You have to stand in line twice. Nice.

At 8:15, the workers were starting to turn on their computers, get their coffee, greet each other, etc. Watching them do this just makes you want to punch them in the face, but I digress. At 8:17, the power went out. At 8:20, it came back on. About 8:30 they started helping folks. We had number 28 in line A and number 17 in line B. We started to wait.

Line B had two stations ran by two men. They meant business. They started calling numbers and taking care of business. No number, no help! Awesome! Lamar got called for line B, and he requested the new card. Since the card was eaten at the ATM at the airport, the man said it would go to another bank. It would take at least a week to collect it. Then they would have to arrange a trade. He gave Lamar the advice to go to the other bank directly and skip the trade, which could take anywhere from 2-4 weeks. We loved him for the heads up.

Now…back to line A. By 9:45, we still had not been helped and our number had not been called. How is it that after two hours they were not to 28 you might ask? Well, let me tell you. First of all, you don’t really need a number—that is just for stupid and gullible people (like us). Anyone at any time can walk right up and get helped if you fall into any one of the following categories: old (or just look old), have a baby, are pregnant (or say you are), look Portuguese, police, work for any major business in Cape Verde, or are just pushy and loud enough. At one point, a guy walks up in front of us with the number 19. The teller is on number 21 at this point. She tells him she can’t help him. He pitches a fit, saying he had things to do and had to leave…blah, blah, blah. It was like listening to an obnoxious four year old. She tells him no. We feel vindicated…for a minute. Ten minutes later, she helps him…before us. Way to teach him a lesson bank lady.

Of course, Lamar and I are constantly trying to set a good example. We believe in doing the honest and right thing and modeling just and fair behavior. It is not always so easy…like when we are at BCA. We watched person after person go in front of us without a number. We were the only ones left from our original group at this point. At one point, Lamar started asking people walking in front of us where their tickets were: they just looked at him like he had lost his mind: "Ticket, I don't need any ticket." We finally get our number called, and the lady immediately looks at us with this sad look and says something along the lines of , “Sorry, there were a lot of people who were pregnant and old today.” Apparently she had stared at our faces so long she felt bad. We finally got out our money and left…at 10:10 a.m.

Oh, BCA!