BURRO-CRACIA: MALA Y BUENA

After we opened our bank account here two days ago, we were ready to transfer money from the US. We had what we thought we needed, the Swift number for the bank here and our new account # here. This is all we ever needed to transfer money in the past. So yesterday morning, el sr J spent an hour talking to our bank in the US (North Carolina). Swift #: "R as in Raleigh, P as in Pittsboro, A as in Asheville, Y as in Yanceyville, etc." (el sr J is so funny). This was not a bad hour, since the young-sounding gentleman in NC was so polite and so anxious to be of assistance. He kept excusing himself to consult with other experts on this sort of thing. Finally he thought he had all the information he needed.

But no. Later yesterday, Raleigh e-mailed us saying we needed an 18 digit "clave" number. Back to the bank here. Signed our names on the waiting list. After waiting a half hour, noted that a well-dressed woman jumped the line. Eyes rolled. After an hour's wait our names were called. "Buenas tardes" all around. We need, we said, a "número clave with 18 digits (dígitos). No, you don't need it, the "ejecutivo" said. Yes, our bank needs it, we said. (It's not up to you, we thought.) He disappeared and returned with a Xeroxed piece of paper on which he highlighted the "número clave," or "clabe," as it (incorrecty spelled) appeared, all 18 digits of it.

E-mailed the numero clave to the US bank, and everything seems to be working as it should. But we were told it could take up to a week to make the transfer, so we'll have to wait and see. What happens to our money in the meantime, as it makes its way through the phlogiston? Someone will be making money from our money, no doubt.

That was yesterday. This morning we were coming out of our casita and we met Bob, a new acquaintance. Bob told us how to get a card that will give us "old age" discounts on groceries, drugs, buses, museums, etc. The first step is to get a CURP card, for which we would have to go to an obscure office downtown and take along various documents to prove we are who we are. El sr J asked me if I could stand any more bureaucracy; I gave a feeble ok, and we were off to the CURP office at 3:00 or so (I thought the office would be closed, which is why I assented). We got there. There was a "cerrada" sign on the door. I asked what the hours were. The guard said they closed at 3:00. El sr J said we wanted a CURP card. The guard at the door asked, "tercera edad?" El sr J said "sí." That did it. The door was unlocked and the oldsters entered. In a flash, we got our cards. Even though we had brought passports, FM2s, marriage certificates, birth certificates, and 3 references, we only had to show the FMs ("put your passports away, you might lose them," said the joker behind the desk) and in 2 minutes we had these:

Loving Mexico and their respect for us old folks. Now we can get our discount cards for buses and museums and heaven knows what else, and our Seguridad Social (health care).