ATM Woes

Paying for my housing in cash was almost certainly the easiest way to do it for everyone involved, once I looked into the particulars of wiring the money. But even this wasn’t entirely problem free – I had to plan ahead, since I have a daily withdrawal limit, and I even had quite an adventure trying to get money from the ATM’s in Valencia!

I started off by simply going to an ATM and trying to withdraw money, as per normal. But when I put in my card, it told me that the magnetic strip had deteriorated and the card was unreadable. This was really worrying, as it would take me some time to get another card sent from the United States! It made me realize that, in the event something like this did actually happen, I should probably carry a spare ATM or Debit card – not in case I lose the first one, because then the account needs to be cancelled, but in case it gets damaged. Also, it would probably be a good idea to keep a reserve of cash at home, in case I ended up needing to wait several days before I had access to my bank account.

I went to the train station and tried another ATM with the same result. Then Emily and Allan suggested that it might be the brand of ATM I was using – both had been Bancaja. We asked for the nearest ATM that wasn’t Bancaja, and got sent to one in another area of the station. This one threw us for a loop as the cancel and enter buttons were painted on wrong, meaning you actually had to press an unlabeled button for enter – the green button did nothing!

I was quite stressed out by the time we figured all of this out, but in the end the new machine read my card without issue, and gave me my euros – whew!

The Apartment Saga

I’ve been looking for an apartment since at least June. I was a bit nervous as I’ve never done any of this before, not even in English, or in America, much less in a foreign language and country, long distance, but at first it seemed easy enough. La Universidad de Navarra very conveniently provides a selection of listings for places to stay here: http://www.unav.es/admision/alojamiento/. As I looked through the listings for shared apartments, I found that the majority of them were reasonably priced and in decent condition. I didn’t even want to be picky, but in my attempt to narrow down the sheer number of listings, I eventually controlled for those within a quick walk to campus, which were inhabited by female students, less than 350 euros a month with utilities, had internet access, and showed pictures in the listing (basically, ideal). I selected about 12 favourites and sent emails inquiring about the first few. This was where the trouble started.

The vast majority of the people I emailed never replied. Not a yes, not a no, nothing. Approximately 10% had the good manners to reply and say that they’d already found a renter, or that it wouldn’t work if I was only there for one semester, etc. I’m very grateful to this 10%. Most infuriating at all were the few that actually replied to my inquiry, saying that it should work fine, but never responded again when I asked for more details or tried to get the ball rolling. Lovely. I had hoped to settle these things before I started travelling, but by the time I left I had responded to dozens of listings and even tried to follow a handful of promising leads, and with absolutely nothing to show for it. I was running out of times and even listings!

Finally, I started looking in the category Casas de Familias, which translates as Family Homes but seems to be an uncertain category, including everything from homestays to basically shared apartments with a different name. I sent emails to all of the Casas de Familias that were close to campus and had internet access – if this didn’t work, I was going to either email my program coordinator for advice, or just show up in Pamplona a few days before classes and take my chances. The next morning I signed on and, to my surprise, found a lot of responses. The first five were apologies that the spot had already been filled, but the sixth and last response showed potential. I replied – she replied again. I thought I’d found a place at last!

Then, things got fun again. My future landlady requested a deposit, which is quite standard and reasonable. The problem was that I didn’t know how I would get the money to her. She seemed to suggest that it was a simple matter, an easy bank transfer that only required account numbers, and my Scottish friend Allan, who I was staying with at the time before leaving for Spain, agreed. He said it was called Direct Deposit, and threw around several terms I’d never heard before. I spent the next two days trying to figure out the system through a series of long distance phone calls to my mother, my bank, and my study abroad coordinator. In the end, no one had heard of such a system except the coordinator, who said that it was a European thing that made life easier for them and harder for us Americans. All recommended a wire transfer, even though it would require a fee of perhaps 50$, at least one trip to the bank by my mother, and lots of specific information that I had no idea how to ask for in Spanish or whether or not my landlady would be willing to share. Meanwhile, said landlady was understandably becoming a little bit impatient with my inability to understand how to send a simple deposit, especially when she had other people interested in the apartment who would probably be much simpler to work with.

In the end, I sent a sizeable email to the landlady, explaining that I had contacted my bank and it seemed as though the deposit scheme she was requesting was impossible from the United States, but that I could wire her the money if she would contact her bank and ask for the information they needed to receive a wire, or I could pay her in cash as soon as I arrived, which isn’t so long away now. To sweeten the deal, I offered to pay the full amount for the semester up front, if it would be more convenient, and apologized for the delays and complications.

Very happily, she responded saying she would reserve the room for me, and trust that I would pay when I arrived in Pamplona. She didn’t have to be so patient with me and I feel quite annoying for asking her to be, but I’m grateful to her and feeling now quite confident that I’ll have a place to live for next semester, which is a relief. I love how we had to go to all these preparation seminars for study abroad, which tried to ready us for homesickness and culture shock and maybe a bit of the visa struggle, but didn’t bother to mention any of this sort of stuff!

The good news is that after all of this, I somehow feel that, regardless of what happens, as long as I have a place to stay, nothing else can be quite as stressful as facing the potential of homelessness, so the worst is likely over!