Sunday, October 16, 2011

Arab Bank

Last week I set up an account with Arab Bank. I felt like such a jerk, showing up on Thursday afternoon, right before they closed for the weekend asking for an account with no proof of residence or salary. But the employees sat with me for an hour and gave me tea and coffee and candy (only at an Arab bank) and tried to figure out my situation.

"You're here alone? You're not afraid? Good, good...."
"How do you see Palestine? Beautiful?"

People are always surprised that I want to live here, because they're usually trying to get out. They ask me if I know how they can get an American visa, and how they can improve their TOEFL score. I have the luxury of not knowing about these things.

My favorite question was...

"Morgan..this is your father's name?"
"No, just my middle name."
He looked down at the form. The second name space said "Father's name"
He wrote Morgan.
"Bach, this is your grandfather's name?"

After skimming all this Occupy Wall Street news, it occured to me that all of my money is now in Arab Bank. Haha!