Banking in Bundibugyo

Today was a truly cross-cultural experience as I entered the Stanbic Bank in Bundibugyo Town on a mission to become a signatory for the Bundi Nutrition account. Thankfully, John Clark was along to guide and help me jump through the bureaucratic hoops. Below is a (more or less) play-by-play recounting of the morning. See if you can find how the experience differs a bit from what might happen in the U.S.

First, I hop on the back of John’s motorcycle while wearing a skirt. We make our way to town on dusty dirt roads, attempting to avoid the jagged rocks sticking out of the dirt (which is much harder than it sounds). The ride is about 30 minutes long and I’m sure we pass cows, large trucks kicking up dust clouds, and kids yelling “How are you?!” but I don’t remember. I guess it is becoming normal to me? Maybe.

We arrive at the bank, slightly windblown, and find out that “the network is down” so we cannot withdraw funds, check our account balance, or make any changes like adding a new signatory.  We decide to burn time—adding money to our electricity card so we have power at the mission, sitting at a little cafe eating chapatis and drinking hot tea.

Eventually we went back to the bank. The line of people had grown by a lot. Within minutes of standing in the line that never seemed to move, a woman comes and (by American standards) “cuts” in line. No one says anything. It seems to be a pretty typical thing here. You stand in line for a while, go run some errands, and then get back behind the guy you were behind before. No big deal.

When there are about six people in front of us in line, the person speaking to the teller ran into some kind of problem. The six people in front of us crowd around him, looking over his shoulder, all giving him advice. Banking privacy and security are defined a little differently here :) On a similar note, a man dressed entirely in yellow (think African version of Curious George’s caretaker minus the big hat) is crouched in a corner of the room with a huge pile of crushed bills, counting them out and creating piles, probably to deposit.

As we got closer to the front, the personal space factor diminished. For the last 30 minutes of waiting, an elderly woman behind me stood so close that her bag was resting on my body the whole time. I kept picturing the entire, winding line as human dominoes. Weird? Yes, but I had been standing in line for an hour with not much to do.

We finally reached the teller window. Victory! In order to withdraw cash, you have to write yourself a check. Which then has to be signed in 5 places and given the official stamp. Stamps and multiple signatures seem to be the name of the game here.

From there, we stepped into another line to request a provisional statement—a surprisingly quick and painless process! And then we went to the bank manager’s desk to turn in our paperwork and hopefully receive approval as a new signatory. We wait. And wait some more. And wait a little more. After about 30-45 minutes, he appears.

He rattles off a long list of documents that are required to process the request—3 passport photos, a signed letter from our local chairman, signed meeting minutes, filled out applications, and a photocopy of ID. Thankfully John has done this before and we have all of the above! The bank manager seems almost disappointed that we have everything and decides that my driver’s license is not a valid enough ID. My passport is in Kampala awaiting a work permit. Thankfully, I have a photocopy of the passport at home and he agrees to accept it and process the request when I bring it. Success!

After 5 hours, the banking for Bundi Nutrition seems to be in order. I hop onto the back of John’s motorcycle again and we make our way back to Nyahuka with the equatorial sun beating down. A few months ago, I probably would have thought it had been a long and frustrating process with little merit in the end. And while it did take a lot of time to do something seemingly simple, I understand the importance of it today.

Being able to withdraw those funds from America in a Stanbic bank on a dirt road in rural Uganda is going to save lives. As the dry season continues and food becomes scarce, malnourished children will be hungry, lose weight, and be less able to fight common sicknesses here like malaria or diarrhea. The Bundi Nutrition programs provide important food supplements that will keep these children alive or at least give them a fighting chance. So while the process of banking here in Bundibugyo is different, I am thankful for the system that provides funds for programs that save the lives of children here.