How To Close Your Bank Account In France

First of all, you procrastinate for 6 weeks, thinking, “I really should go to the bank and close up my account…give myself lots of time, just in case there are any problems.” Then you wait until 6 days before you leave the country. Sunday night, you get your things ready: bank card, check book, wallet, picture ID, and EVERY single piece of paper that the bank has mailed/given you since you opened your account in Dec 04. You never know what they will ask for. Monday…you walk to the bank, the door is locked. You slowly realize that the bank is closed on Mondays. You carefully memorize the posted business hours and vow to arrive at 8:15 am the next morning. 5 days before you leave. You spend the rest of the evening kicking yourself for your procrastination and lack of organization.
Next morning, you sleep in, miss the alarm and make it to the bank at 9:30 am. You arrive at the outer door to the bank; you ring the doorbell (security feature) to be let into the area where you can make deposits or withdrawals from the automatic machine. Then you ring the second doorbell to be let into the waiting area of the bank. In which there is a total of 5 other people before you, all waiting in line. There are only 2 tellers. But at least the place is air conditioned…it’s already over 30 C. So you stand in line for 20 minutes or so, really it could have been longer because you’ve stopped wearing your watch. But at least it gives you time to practice what you’re going to say given any number of different scenarios.
But you are not prepared for what really happens. Apparently the person that opened your account needs to be the one to close your account. And of course he is away on vacation. So the teller asks you to take a seat and wait until he can figure out what to do with you. He calls a few people in the bank, explains the situation, blah blah blah. Meanwhile giving you time to go through the “worst case scenario” possibilities, including being told that you can’t close your account and that all your money must stay in France.
But all is well, after another 15 minute wait. He calls you back up to the counter, asks for your check book, your picture ID, your bank card. Then he gives you a pen and a blank sheet of paper, instructing you to write (in French) that you want to close your account, take out the money, date it, and sign it. At this point, you’re just happy that things are moving ahead, and that it looks like you’ll be able to get your money after all. You write out your little paragraph, trying not to laugh out loud as you do so. He counts out your money, including the cents. Thanks you for your business, wishes you a good day, says goodbye. You say goodbye, good day. He keeps your check book and bank card. You take a big breath, walk back to the door, and ring again to be let out. Walk up to the second door, ring it to be let out…and walk into a wall of heat. It’s about 35 C now.
Moral of the story…bring a book to read when you go to the bank. And don’t procrastinate.

Sick in France

This will likely be one of my last posts from Marseille. Wow. In a week, I'll be flying over the Atlantic, on my way to Toronto. This year has gone too fast. One of my regrets, is that I've been sick a lot during this year in Marseille. Colds, flus, sinus infections, extreme fatigue, fever, etc. I've been to the Dr and the pharmacy more this year than the past 5 years combined. I'm not exagerating. I'm just now getting over my second sinus infection in 2 months. For 4 days I could not taste or smell anything. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Nul. Zip. Made me extremely grateful and aware of my sense of taste (and smell) when it finally returned.
This is a picture of a French pharmacy, a sight that I've become familiar with. The green glowing cross sign can be found in every neighbourhood, usually within easy walking distance. You need to go to the pharmacist, describe your symptoms or what you're looking for and they will find it for you. Almost everything, except soap, beauty supplies, etc are kept behind the counter. Including pain medication, allergy pills, travel sickness medication. All stuff I'm used to picking out on my own. But it's actually kind of nice to just walk in, say hi, explain how sick you are, get a compassionate nod from the pharmacist, and then he/she returns with your medication. Of course, anything like antibiotics, serious pain meds, etc need tobe perscribed by a Doctor.
Well I should close this post...I can hear thunder booming. Hopefully we get some rain. It's only rained once since early May. It's so dry here! And hot...been over 35C for 2 weeks now.  

We are NOT the champions

France lost the World Cup. I watched the big game last night. Not only did they lost, but the captain, the big star from Marseille, Zinedine Zidane, lost his temper and headbutted another player in the chest. Zidane was then expelled from the game, missing the last few minutes, plus 2 overtimes, then the kick-off. That was his last game of his career, not exactly a stellar end.

I was reminded of my desire to end well here, to finish my projects, to tie up loose ends, but also to go the extra mile, to say proper goodbyes and leave without regrets. Zidane, I'm sure, has regrets now, and likely wishes he could take that headbutt back. But he can't. And once I'm in Canada I don't want to look back and say, I wish.... I want to end well.

I only have 2 wks left and am starting to feel the pressure of things to do, things to see, people to hang out with, people to say goodbye to, etc. Going back to Canada is a mixed bag of emotions. On one hand I'm looking forward to being back in the land of the Maple Leaf, to speak Canadian again, heck, to speak English again. I miss my family. And I want to meet my new great nephew. I want to go camping with my family, celebrate the end of my mom's cancer treatments, and enjoy the summer in Saskatchewan.

The other hand though, I'm sad to leave. I've made some really good friends here. I like my job. I like France, I like Marseille. (I have my moments when I don't so much, but they usually pass!) I'm thinking of all the things that I will miss here...the blue sky, the flowers, the markets, French music, fresh fruit, pretty jewelry, museums, beaches, the old port, chocolate, mint tea, soccer, petanque, lavendar, mango yogurt, croissants and pain au chocolat, French movies, reading the paper in French, cheese, nutella, French church, living in my own flat, the passion of the French people, chatting with people at the bus stop, seafood, endless sunshine, spring songbirds, kids playing in my neighborhood park, standing in line at the postoffice for 25 mins to send a letter, provencale fabric, cool sea breezes, stained glass windows in churches, the sound of shutters opening in the morning, the French greeting (an "air" kiss on each cheek).

Time to start packing, making decisions about what gets left behind, and if there's still room then I'll buy some souvenirs or chocolate. Time to start cleaning out the cupboard, freezer and fridge. Time to start saying goodbye. Again.