The Irony of Banking

I have no idea how much money we have. I never know how much money we have. Back home I was the budget queen. I knew exactly how much money I had at any given time. I have always been a saver and have made (in my humble opinion) some good financial decisions over the past 10 years which have led me to $0 of debt and A+ credit rating. All that has changed. Thanks to the archaic state of banking here, I am utterly confused. We could be in debt right now, or we could have ample cash hanging about, but I will never know because my bank is out to get me. Blake earns his money in US dollars, but you can't use US dollars for everyday shopping, so once his paycheque has been put into the US account we have, I have to go in to the branch and ask them to transfer it into our Caymanian account. That is where the trouble arises, you see, nothing is simple here. We receive a specialty exchange rate, but only if I remember to ask for it, and only if I go in person. Then we have a stupid clause that states that both of our accounts must be over $300 CI or we get charged (the problem is converting that amount into US so we can ensure we have the proper amount in the US fund, since it must be above 300CI, not US). Then, if we use our debit ( or rather Blake's debit, since mine mysteriously disappeared in the mail), we get charged for each transaction, plus we don't get the preferred exchange rate, same for VISA. FInally, Our bank makes it virtually impossible to track our money. They boast about this "new online banking site" they have, but from the general consensus of islanders, it was made by a school child. Your transactions show up days late, if at all, and generally you will find some odd charges not belonging to you, in hopes that you will just pay it off and relieve some poor local of their Christmas debts. Recently they have amped up their security in response to two armed robberies in January. So everytime I go into the branch, there are two huge men in uniform guarding the door. Generally this would make me feel safe, but not when I go to the counter, two cheques in hand, one with my name, the other in my maiden name and the clerk cashes them both, no questions asked, even after I mention that my "current" last name is not on the second cheque ( if you ever find cheques for a Natalie or Blake, send them our way, doesn't matter what their last name is, we can cash them!). I guess this shouldn't surprise me, since I was able to activate Blake's credit card in his name over the phone with a local banker. We finally thought all of our problems were over when we discovered the Royal Bank of Canada had a location in Georgetown. In our enthusiasm we dreamed about limitless debit cards and a joint account, but were immediately shot down when they informed us there wasn't an actual link between Canada's RBC and the Caymanian RBC? What?

So I remain, on an island internationally renowned for its offshore accounts and world banking, completely unaware of our cashflow, praying each time that there will be money in our account when I go to the teller. Thankfully I haven't been let down yet. On days when I feel we might be scraping the bottom, I am pleasantly surprised to leave with bills in my hand. Oh, it has occurred to me that, with all of their mistakes, it might not be our money., but either way it works for me!