Frozen

Just as I was about to leave customs area, I saw an ATM. In Japan, I forgot to go to the ATM before clearing customs so I was glad I spotted it this time. There was a line at the machine so I took the time to calculate how much money to take out. Hong Kong also calls their currency the “dollar” but the exchange rate is 7HKD to 1USD. I was told the prices were expensive, but that rate seemed pretty good to me.

When I travel, I carry an international ATM card and a Credit Card. Dr. R (the study abroad coordinator for the Business School) told me when I went to Prague, “As long as you have a credit card and valid passport, you are never in a situation you can’t get out of…unless you’re being held hostage, then you’re screwed.” This is pretty much true. These two items will pretty much let you book a ticket back to the US at anytime for any reason.

Both of my cards are set up with my bank to have a pretty low international fee. I normally take out the maximum amount the ATM will allow, and try to stretch that as long as I can. I rarely use the credit card, and pretty much save it for purchases online, or when I run out of cash (but I try to use cash as much as I can, since that seems to be the norm in most countries I’ve visited.)

When I got to the ATM, I put in my ATM card and punched in the amount I wanted to withdraw. The machine told me that exceeded the limit of 3000HKD, so I tried withdrawing 3000HKD. The machine spit out my card and said, “Transaction failed. Contact card issuer.” I tried it again. This time I got an error message that said “Account frozen. Contact card issuer.”

That really wasn’t good.

I put in my credit card and attempted to use it to take out cash. Again I got the message of “Transaction failed. Contact card issuer.” I tried again. Once again, “Account frozen. Contact card issuer.”

I’d used both these cards in China within the past 3 days, this didn’t make any sense.

Then it dawned on me…I’d used them in China…but I wasn’t in China anymore. I’d called the bank to tell them I’d be going to China and Japan…but the US recognizes Hong Kong as a separate country.

As far as my bank was concerned, my cards had been stolen and were being used internationally.

Luckily, the airport had free WiFi. I iMessaged my Mom over the connection to tell her what was happening. As a co-signer on all my accounts, I figured she should be able to call the bank and clear up the issue. I also had all of my RMB on me so I went over to the currency exchange to swap it out for the time being. I handed the lady behind the counter my 70RMB and she handed me back 80HKD.

“I need to take the bus to Causeway Bay district,” I said. “Is this enough for a ticket.”

“To Causeway Bay stop?” she asked.

I nodded.

She typed into her computer. “Is not enough. That’s over 45 minutes away.”

“What about the metro?” I asked.

“The metro is even more,” she said.

Well now this was really bad…I mean even if it had been enough for the bus, it wasn’t enough to make the final payment to the hostel anyway when I got there.

I tried calling my Mom over Viber. She didn’t pick up. Luckily, back when I first arrived in Shanghai. I purchased 10 minutes of Skype calls to a landline phone. I figured it’d be good to have in case of an emergency. Now was the perfect time to burn a few of those minutes. I dialed the house number.

“Hello,” a voice said on the other end of the line. The signal was remarkably clear for Skype. It was my Mom.

“Hey,” I said. “I just texted you.”

“I just saw that,” she said. We rehashed what had happened at the ATM. I decided to hang up after 90 seconds to save the minutes in case I needed them later. We agreed to just text while I waited for her to get ahold of the bank.

I left the customs area and found my way over to the seating area for the city bus. Oddly, I felt very calm about the whole thing. In a lot of ways, I found it funny. In the Study Abroad office, I have coached dozens of other students to make sure they take all the precautions so that their bank accounts work overseas…and here I messed it up. At the same time, I feel like this is one of those things that happens to everyone at some point during their travels. It’s just one of those things that makes a great story later.

Pretty soon I got a text from my Mom saying “Call me.” I tried calling her back on Viber and this time it connected.

“You need to write down this number,” she said and read me the bank’s international emergency number.

After I wrote it down I reminded her, “I don’t have any way to make an international call.“ My iPhone wasn’t set up for international coverage (I switched off the cell service when I left Seattle.) My little China phone doesn’t have any service now. The phone Yu Cui gave me can only make calls domestically within mainland China (and she didn’t give me the passcode to unlock it—but that’s a separate story.)

“Oh that’s right,” Mom said. Just as she did, the connection failed. I couldn’t get it back, but I got a text from her saying: You should be able to make this call. It is their emergency number.

I replied: From my iPhone?

She wrote back: The lady from the bank says yes.

I tried making the call without switching on cell service. I got an error message saying there was no service to the phone. Going into my settings, I switched cell coverage back on. I tried the call again, but I got the same error message. Going into settings a second time, I turned on “roaming.” When I did, every text message and voicemail I’ve received since I left the states flooded into my phone (along with a text from Verizon informing me that I was outside of the US and would be charged 5 cents for each incoming text and 50 cents for all outgoing texts, as well as a certain rate for incoming and outgoing phone calls. I tired the call again, but the signal died. I tried it again, but again the signal died.

I turned roaming and cell service off and texted my Mom: The signal timed out. It wouldn’t connect.

She wrote back: Is there a phone at the bus station you can use?

I looked around. There was…but it was a pay phone…which required money…which was the problem…

Try and make the call from the pay phone, my Mom suggested.

I told her I would as soon as I could find a way to exchange my HKD for coins.

Try making the call without the coins. The lady at the bank said it is an emergency number and it should work.

I tried but just got a busy signal. I texted her to tell her I’d find coins.

Ok there is also a branch in Hong Kong. I am looking for an address. Do you have enough for a cab if needed?

It was funny she mentioned that. I’d been watching the bus departure board. The last departure for the evening was at midnight…which was in 15 minutes. Now I needed money for a cab, which I didn’t have.

I went over to the ticketing counter and asked them if I could get coin. They said I could and I asked how much for an international call. They said each call will be 10HKD. I traded all of the money for coins.

It took 7 tries to get through. I kept getting a busy signal or an error message, and each time the payphone would eat my money. Luckily, on the eighth try, with the last of my money in the machine, the call connected.

“Thank you for your call. You have reached our international emergency number,” the automated voice on the other end said. “All lines are busy. Please hang up and try again.” As I did, my coins dropped into the machine. I had a couple coins left, but it was only enough for a 40 second call.

I texted my mom to tell her what happened. All of a sudden it wasn’t funny anymore. It was sinking in that I was really out of money and running out of options.

The clock kept ticking. I messaged with one of my friends that lives in Hong Kong (I met him in Prague last year) but he didn’t have any ideas. I’d been on the ground since 10:00. It was now after midnight. The lights in the main terminal were shutting down. On one hand though, there were a lot of people spreading out at this bus waiting area that apparently were planning to sleep here too.

My Mom kept getting the same message from the bank. They needed to talk to hear from me in person that I was in fact in Hong Kong in order to do anything with my accounts.

I had a thought. Wandering upstairs to the customer service desk, I decided to beg for mercy.

“Hi,” I said. She greeted me and her English was clear enough I was pretty sure she’d be fluent (That whole used to be owned by Britain thing also made me optimistic.)

“I have a bit of an odd problem,” I explained. “My bank has frozen my accounts and I don’t have access to any more money to call them and talk to them about it. Is there a phone I can use.”

I could see the phone on her desk so I was hoping that would work.

“We have this phone,” she said pointing to it, “but it can only be used for free by customers for domestic calls.”

“Could I use it for one international call?” I asked. “I will pay you back as soon as I have access to my account.”

“No, sorry,” she said. “I suggest you call your consulate. It is a domestic call and they can help you make the international call.”

Well that seemed convoluted—in fact, no, it just flat out pissed me off. I could see the phone right there but she wasn’t going to let me use it.

“If I can talk to my bank,” I told her, “I’ll have money immediately.” I showed her my credit card. “It doesn’t have to be a free call. You can charge me whatever you need to.”

“No,” she said. “Is not the policy.”

I sighed. God forbid we go against the policy.

“Okay,”: I conceded, trying not to take my frustration out on this girl. It wasn’t her fault afterall. “Can I get the number for the consulate.”

She wrote it down on a sticky note. “Here you go,” she said. I expected her to offer me the phone. Instead she continued, “They are closed until 10:00am. You can come back to this desk in the morning and use the phone.”

I was speechless…It was almost 1:00am. That was nine hours away!

“What should I do between now and then?” I asked.

“I think most of the good benches for sleeping are probably taken,” she said. “Maybe there is a quiet place on the floor at one of the ends of the terminal.”

Again…I was speechless.

I walked away. I’d been keeping my Mom posted on this whole consulate thing but I texted her to tell her the news. She wrote back: Hold on.

She then asked for some of my security information for my accounts.

Your brother is going to call them she texted me back.

That was brilliant!

Within 4 minutes, I got a text back from her that both accounts were unfrozen. I also got a text from Nich (my brother) that read: Credit card fraud…no big deal!

Since it was already after 1:00am and catching a bus was no longer a concern—plus I was late for my hostel check-in anyway—I decided to grab a bite. Luckily, McDonalds is a 24 hour establishment everywhere in the world.

I ordered the six piece chicken nugget combo meal. “That is 35 dollars,” the girl behind the counter said. At first I did a double take, then I remembered the exchange rate (that was 34 Hong Kong Dollars…about 4 bucks US.) I swiped my credit card. The machine thought for a minute before displaying a message that read: DENIED

WHAT THE #*&&!!!!!  I thought.

The girl took my card and swiped it on the side of her computer. It still didn’t work. I started getting frustrated. She took it over to another kiosk and swiped it.

It worked.

“Sometimes this one acts funny,” she said.

I laughed, “Not a problem..” I said. “Sometimes this card acts funny too.”

I ate my meal and smiled. Who knew that I’d be so excited my brother knew how to steal my identity!

When I finished, I went back upstairs to the customer service desk. The girl recognized me. “Yes?” she asked.

I kind of felt like Julia Roberts from that scene in Pretty Woman where she goes back to the department store that refused to help her (it might be one of the film’s most iconic lines when she says “Remember me?” to the snooty sales lady and then shows off the massive purchases she made at other stores and says “Big mistake! Huge!”)

“Where can I find an ATM?” I asked.

She pointed and gave me directions around the corner. I pulled a slip of paper out of my bag.

“This is my hostel’s address,” I said. “If I show it to the taxi driver, will he know where it is?”

“Maybe it is better in Chinese,” she said and translated it into characters for me.

“Thank you!” I said.

I was practically giddy walking to the ATM. It was probably a combination of being tired and relieved. This is definitely one of my best stories so far I thought to myself…and probably because my family got to be a part of it.

I took out the money and went to find a taxi. It was after 1:30am and I was exhausted. I still had a 45 minute ride into the city too.

The taxis were incredibly organized outside. They lined up at the curb while a security guard directed them where to park. As I walked out the door, the guard asked to see my address. I showed it to him and he directed me to taxi number 3. It didn’t look like anyone was in it, but when I climbed in, I realized the driver was on the right hand side of the car.

Cool! They drive backwards here too! I thought. I showed him the address and he said he knew it. That made me feel better as I sat back, took off my backpack and buckled in.

“How long you are in Hong Kong?” he asked me.

I didn’t remember anymore, I was too tired. I was impressed by how good his English was though. “Three weeks,” I said. I realized I meant days after I said it, but I was too tired to correct myself.

“Three weeks,” he said. “That is a nice holiday. You must have access to lots of money.”

I smiled…that was perhaps the most ironic word choice he could have used.

We made small talk as we drove along, usually with 5 or 10 minute paused between little snippets of yes/no questions. I dozed a little bit too, but only for a few seconds at a time. As we paid one toll and went into a tunnel, I felt my ears pop.

“In this tunnel,” the driver said, “we are underwater.”

“Oh wow,”: I said. “How long is it?”

“About 12 years,” he said.

I’m thinking something was lost in translation…or this was gong to be a really expensive taxi.

We got to my hostel about 50 minutes later. I paid him, got out, and found my way to the check-in. Because I was so late, they had given away my bed. They agreed to put me up in a private room for the night (free of charge!) and get things sorted out in the morning.

A young girl showed me to my room. Once she left, I took a shower. By 3:00, I was sound asleep…with no clue when I would wake up. At this point, it seemed like the adventure had already started…why rush into it first thing in the morning.