West Bank Story

When I was young, I read a book called The Stainless Steel Rat. Among it's many premises was the idea that in the future, increasingly complex technology and bureaucracy had largely robbed people of the ability to think independently. To put it more bluntly, people had become dumb - at least from the perspective of the main character.

I've come to realise in the intervening years, with a little horror, that the author was not merely trying to be amusing, but rather satirical, because the world really is like this. Today's case in point, is HSBC, who advertise themselves as the world's local bank.

I have a financial problem in need of a solution, and if you'll forgive my obvious naivety, I didn't think it a particularly difficult one to solve. I needed a bank account in Busan, so that I could function financially in the local currency, and I thought this best achieved by having an account with a Western bank which had branches in the UK and South Korea. Of the main banks in the UK, I mainly use Barclays, who due to an historical and continuing obsession with South Africa have chosen that country as the focus of their international expansion rather than going for the more fashionable - and one suspects profitable - Asian expansion. So they were out, but it seemed of little concern when I had a branch of the Anglo-Asian monster HSBC in my local city centre.

When I go into Barclays, and most other banks for that matter, there is an enquiries desk located somewhere reasonably visibly, yet discretely. In my local HSBC, it's the first thing that hits you as you walk in the door - so it's basically a reception desk defending the inner areas of the company. So I asked the receptionist, who's title though is probably something more like 'customer relationship engineer', whether I could open an account in the UK which I could use overseas - specifically Korea in this case.

If I opened a HSBC UK account they could 'introduce' me to HSBC Korea, increasing the chances that HSBC Korea would let me open an account there, but no, I couldn't open an account in the UK that I could just access in the Busan branch of HSBC Korea. And in any case, HSBC UK wouldn't be so keen to 'introduce' me if I hadn't been a customer of theirs for at least a year, which obviously I hadn't. What's more, I could only open an account with HSBC UK if I agreed to move my main bank account to them from Barclays, which I said wasn't going to happen. So we smiled at each other, his I think the slightly apologetic smile of someone who's hands are tied by procedures (though it could have been the smile of turning away obvious Barclays riff-raff from the superior HSBC), and mine the sympathetic smile I specially reserve for facing the mentally ill. I found the whole story so unbelievable - even knowing the limitless stupidity of corporates - that I was tempted to bypass the reception desk and hunt down a manager to explain my displeasure - but unfortunately I've been employed by corporates long enough to find running past reception desks an insurmountable psychological barrier.

The upshot of this is that I won't have a Korean bank account - HSBC have lost a customer - and I'm always going to hold a grudge against HSBC and will no doubt spend the next 20 years bad-mouthing them (this is just the beginning!)

I Am a Camera

I clearly didn't think through the implications of starting a blog. I've harboured increasingly unlikely ambitions of becoming a writer ever since reading my first Haruki Murakami novel, but despite having a lot of ideas and experiences over the years, I rarely put pen to paper, so all I have to show for it are a few semi-completed short stories and as sense of being intellectually poorer for the experience.

Novelists often get the accolades but I have great respect for journalists, who are expected to write great material to tight deadlines at inconvenient times. No luxury of writer's block for them. This impression was only further emphasised when a reporter for a Japanese newspaper related some stories while staying at my house last week (although I also now find the profession rather depressing).

Blogging is like journalism. My natural instinct is to wish to write interesting and insightful articles, but what I'm more likely to end up with is dry, factual material because my life is chaotic and I'm too busy or tired to think.

Much like my Japanese acquaintance, I wanted to write, not to be a photographer. But in a multi-media world photographs are a minimum requirement, so much as he reluctantly carries around his camera I realise so must I if I am to better capture the essence of Korea and compromise with the medium. I don't really mind so much, but I'm slightly annoyed with myself that I didn't think this through earlier, because it was always going to have to be this way.

So, in the middle of the chaos of preparing for my move, building work, visiting friends, illness and other tasks, I researched cameras, and bought a Canon IXUS 800 - cheapest online retail price £240 - for £178 from Canon's Outlet Store on eBay. Traders, eh? So now there will be pictures... eventually.