From [08.08.31] First few days in Beijing

I can’t believe a week has passed already. Since my last post, we’ve:

• nailed down a dope pad with views to rival our apartment back in NYC
• made not one but two trips to the local Walmart (yes, our Walmart overlords invaded the Far East)
• dealt with a variety of banking issues (Citibank sucks harder than a Dyson vacuum cleaner)
• discovered my gym has an amazing branch here at which my card works
• seen an English- and vocal-talent-impaired Chinese girl belt out a cappella musical songs at an open mike night
• stuffed our bellies with Korean BBQ and Indian food
• thrown elbows with the masses at the Olympics flagship store
• been scammed near Tian’anmen Square (I was the sucker)
• eaten street meat and hot steamed buns in a backstreet hutong
• learned that nothing in China is official without a red stamp
• procured tickets to the Bird’s Nest for the 2008 Paralympics Games
• haggled prices for bikes
• while waiting for said bikes, tried not to look as a baby popped a squat in the middle of the sidewalk
• made friends from Mongolia, Indonesia, Russia, Bolivia and Miami (exotic, I know)

And finally, today, we began our long and arduous journeys to acquire this most intricate, unique and difficult of languages, Mandarin. After four hours of class this morning, I can pronounce all initial and final vowel and consonant sounds in addition to using the five tones with those sounds. It will take a while to memorize the less familiar sounds (for example, “ang” actually sounds like “ahhng”), but, luckily, the tones are easier to master than I had anticipated. It will be nice to have a few more words under my belt, since all I really know is “hello”, “goodbye” and “thank you.”

Luckily, in our area of town and many others, that’s really all you need to know to get by. In most stores or venues, at least one person speaks a bit of English, and it’s amazing how far hand gestures go to help overcome the language barrier. We’ve also been blessed with Beijing’s most wonderful rental agent. After dealing with overeager property pushers, we found an agent that not only speaks good English, but also is patient and non-forceful. Since signing the papers on the place — for which we did not pay her a fee — she’s helped us get bikes, set up the internet, register with the police — she even received some important mail for me. If anyone is moving to this area, I’m happy to recommend her!

We’re parked in the Wudaokou neighborhood, a student hot spot in Northeastern Beijing. Dappled with cozy coffee shops and restaurants catering to an array of international palates, the area sports a cosmopolitan vibe not dissimilar to NYC. Hence, we feel right at home. In fact, it’s exactly like the Greenwich Village area, minus the brownstones and NYU kids and plus a lot more Asian people. And, of course, Chinese reigns supreme over English. Wudaokou is Beijing’s answer to Koreatown, and throngs of Korean BBQ joints clump together right off the main strip, Chengfu Lu (“lu” means “street”). For all its charms, Wudaokou lacks a nightlife up to my speed. The student bar scene pervades, and I’m a little elderly for hormone-fueled bumpin’ and grindin’ and boat races.

Who am I kidding? I love boat races.

What I really mean is that there are not enough 4/4 beats for my taste.

Segue to our weekend plans: Pier Bucci, a fabulous DJ from Chile, is making his China debut at Beijing club White Rabbit. We’ll be celebrating Sean’s birthday there this Saturday. I’m excited to check out the Beijing party scene, though have I have no idea how I’m going to stay up since jet lag’s iron grip has yet to release me and I’ve been in bed by 11 every night since getting here. I’ll get through somehow; I always do. Be on the look out for a review come early next week!

For now … picture time! Picasa redesigned and now I can’t put in those nice little picture boxes, so you’ll have to settle on clicking the link:
http://picasaweb.google.com/nagrag44/080831FirstFewDaysInBeijing#

17.Aug.08

The imperial city of Hue was an easy bus trip from Hoi An, which we grudgingly said goodbye to. The further north we go, the hotter it seems to become and Hue just about crushed our will to do anything. Once settled in a very nice hotel with air/con and free wifi for ten bucks a night, we did not want to leave. Eventually the hunger pangs became worse than the anticipation of the heat so we headed to a nearby Com Chay stand. After some delicious “fake meat” vegetarian food, we crossed a massive bridge to the main part of the city, once a island imperial palace; Beer gardens now line the rivers edge.  Exhausted by heat after only a 15 minute walk we settled into plastic chairs on the river to sample some of the local beers, which were no Beerlao, but decent enough. We wandered a bit through some markets and, though we are by no means sick of Vietnamese food yet, we couldn’t help ourselves and were tempted to get some KFC for dinner. Our comfy bed welcomed us after our walk back.

18.Aug.08

Biking around in stifling heat is far better than walking, not just because you move faster, but because the wind feels delicious. We soon found ourselves forced to dismount however once at the grand imperial purple palace, not as purple as one would imagine, and also not as grand since it got the shit bombed out of it the US/Vietnam war. We explored the grounds for over an hour, unfortunately on foot because only locals could bike around while foreigners suffer in the furnace heat, and get charged to park bikes, bummer. Many sections of the palace were under construction or being completely rebuilt, but some of what was left was very pretty, especially the entry gateway. Statues and lakes covered the grounds as did many construction workers napping in hammocks. It was worth a visit.

We ate lunch a place recommended by Lonely Planet that served us a barely edible seafood hotpot. Being so excited about seafood hotpots from the unbelievable one in Mui Ne, our spirits were crushed, as was our faith in Lonely Planet. Afterwards we biked more around the city discovering scenic lakes and quaint homes, and buying some fragrant local-made incense. Soon we found ourselves back home as the sun felt determined to drench every ounce of moisture from our bodies. We waited out the peak heat of the day reading and computing in our air/con room.

Realizing we were very low on funds we forced ourselves back into the furnace to find a bank and withdraw money from our last remaining piece of plastic after slowly losing all else over the last few months. Unfortunately it is a Citibank MasterCard which takes 3% for each withdrawal (which our others didn’t) and it is our last resort emergency card. Of course the card didn’t work at either of the two banks we tried, which is frustrating because just a couple days ago on the phone with them they said I should have no problems withdrawing now. I called them back, and they said I’d nearly reached some limit I didn’t know existed and now could only withdraw $150, get the limit heightened, or pay of the balance. So I determined to do all three as precaution; called parents to help pay it off, put in request for limit increase, and determined to just take out $150 (which goes a LONG way here anyway) next time at the bank, which was closed now. (Sorry if that seemed boring and irrelevant, but it comes into play later).

We had some delicious tempura and Pork at a Japanese restaurant with the truly clever name: Japanese Restaurant. Then we followed the sandman to dreamland. (We are really running out of ways to say “then went to bed,” which is getting really old to type).

19.Aug.08

Flanked by two yellow, orange, and red aluminum dragons, we entered our boxy dragon boat filled with about 20 other tourists for a bargain $2 cruise of the perfume river. For two bucks a person, the tour absolutely rocked and even included a tasty free lunch! We thought there would be some catch along the way which we kept preparing for, but we simply had had great service all around, and only had to pay extra to enter the three mausoleums which were $3 per person (no matter how you get there). Drinks of course were extra, but they didn’t overcharge too much so we were surprised they could make such a worthy trip so affordable!

I could go into every mausoleum in detail, but as usual, pictures give a better impression. They were all dedicated to royal family members and thankfully untouched during the wars. Each was a large complex of incense filled temples and stone graves, but more interesting were the surroundings with lotus filled lakes, rolling hills, towering pagodas, and beautiful jungle. It made for a terrific day and all within even a paupers budget.

Our boat was supposed to get back at 3pm, but landed instead at 4:15. Having only 45 minutes until our night bus to Ninh Binh left, we had limited time to get desperately needed money from the bank, and eat a quick dinner. I sprinted to the bank and my head fell in despair as the attendant shook her head to my credit card after it failed to withdraw the $150 I was promised I could withdraw, or even $100. The next bank had the same results, and with only $20 worth in Dong in my pocket, and owing the hotel at least $35 for bus tickets, bed, and cruise tickets, I sprinted back to Jessica in panic. I caught her sitting down to another meal of Com Chay which brought our hotel debt even greater and I stuffed my mouth with the food and ran to the hotel to see what could be done. We had no extra cash and our only plastic left was not withdrawing it. During an attempt to call Citibank before the banks closed in 5 minutes when our bus also came, the hotel manager said we could run to another hotel and try their credit card machine (since our hotels wasn’t working). Earlier on the phone I remembered hearing that there was only a limit on withdrawals, but not charges for some reason, so I hopped on the back of one of their motorbikes and zoomed across town to another random hotel owned by the same people. The heart-pounding credit swipe was accepted by the cheerful little black box to my utmost excitement! Citibank; it sort of works when you need it most! (I later learned by checking my account balance that the most critical error was made by someone I talked to saying I had $150 instead of the actual $50 which I had left to withdraw; I guess basic math isn’t a prerequisite of Citibank employment).

Our bus was there shortly after I returned and we were stunned to find a very unique bus full of actual beds with cute and colorful sheets and pillows. For being on a bus it was a good night’s sleep.  Kind of like the Harry Potter night bus from the third book.  Except no teleportation, hanging chandelier, or pimply attendant.

Hue Flickr Pics:

http://flickr.com/photos/flufflebuns/sets/72157606867657968/

]]> http://suffolkhouse.wordpress.com/2007/11/30/citibank-treats-customers-like/ Fri, 30 Nov 2007 19:00:38 +0000 suffolkhouse http://suffolkhouse.wordpress.com/2007/11/30/citibank-treats-customers-like/

We have a small student loan financed through Citibank. We don’t pay it down rapidly because the interest rate was locked at 3.5%. That is almost free money. I’ve always thought that one way to make life-long customers is to treat them nicely when you first encounter them, and then establish a long-term relationship with them. I don’t think Citibank thinks this way. Since we consolidated the loan, they’ve done absolutely nothing but screw the loan up. Two days ago, I caught a CSR on the phone lying to me.

Because I do the bills, I make the calls. Often, when I need to do something quickly with a company, I try to place a quick call and be done with it. Well, recently, I called Citibank to ask why we’d received a letter about a late-bill. I don’t volunteer too much during these calls because they just send you to someone else anyway, causing you to repeat yourself again. Well, seems I overpaid last month, and they applied the overpayment to the next month’s bill, and considered it an underpayment. Because we “paid ahead” they didn’t send a bill. Then, after the current month’s billing period, they called to tell us we were behind. How nice! Anyway, the call went like this:

Me: Hi, I just recieved a call from you all saying that our payments are behind?!

Citi: Okay, and who’s account is this?

Me: My wife’s.

Citi: And who are you?

Me: Her husband.

Citi: Well, thank you for calling today, but I can’t disclose anything about that loan to you without your wife’s authorization.

Me: That’s interesting, considering you had no problem leaving me a phone message explaining the balance of the loan, the due date, the loan number, and the fact that we were supposedly behind. The message would make sense, if it weren’t my male voice in the introductory message.

Citi: I’m sorry, but I can’t discuss this loan with you without your wife’s authorization. Is she available?

Me: I’m looking at her right now, but on principle I’m not going to bother her. She sent in a letter three years ago explaining that I was to be authorized to manage this account, per the instruction of a customer service representative. So, why don’t you just look at the history of the account just like every other CSR does and confirm my authorization.

Citi: Our rules have changed, now no one but the customer can have access to that information without prior verbal consent.

Me: How do you get to adjust the terms of our agreement without consulting us.

Citi: These rules are in her best interest.

Me: Don’t you think she knows what is in her best interest?

Citi: Sir, I can’t disclose this information to you. So, is there anything else?

Me: Yes, explain to me. Is this rule change a federal law or your company’s rules?

Citi: Sir this is law.

Me: You are a liar. There is no federal law saying she can’t determine who has access to her accounts. She essentially gave me power of attorney on this account. Now, you will either answer my questions, or put your supervisor on the phone.

Citi: Hold please.

***

Supervisor: Sir can I help you?

Me: Yes, please look at the history of the account. My wife authorized me to manage this account in writing.

Supervisor: When did this happen?

Me: Three years ago.

Supervisor: Says here that she sent in this authorization in 2004. So, what’s the problem.

I proceeded to tell her the problem, and she apologized profusely for the lies told by the CSR. I told her that this was a pattern with Citibank. Regardless of the letter, not one CSR has acknowledged this authorization since she sent it in. I always have to get a supervisor on the phone. Then, I guaranteed her that when the Citibank was through with its monster take-over of North Fork Bank, we would switch banks. I think I might, but the location is very convenient.

I use Citibank for just about all my financial needs.  My mortgage (on an apartment back in New York) is with Citi.  My home equity line (also on the NY apartment) is with Citi.  My checking an savings accounts are with Citi.  My brokerage account used to be with Citi, but I moved to Schwab last year for the lower trading fees.  And, of course, my student loans are with Citi.  Originally, only my law school loans (all $70,000 or so of them) were with Citi since my undergraduate loans (some $25,000 of those) were “direct” loans, but a few years ago I consolidated the direct loans over to Citi and locked in an historically low rate of 3.375% for 30 years (give me a couple of high inflation years and that fixed monthly payment will look really nice).

I wish I hadn’t.

I have never had a problem with any part of Citibank outside of their student loan department.  With student loans, however, it’s been one screw-up after another.  Two of my loans were not eligible for consolidation, and so their interest rates stayed variable.  As rates started climbing on those loans, I started sending in the occasional extra principal payment.  Without fail, Citi would screw up the extra payment.  They’d apply it to the next scheduled payment of interest instead of extra principal.  They’d apply it to a loan other than the one I specified.  If there was a way to screw up payment instructions, they found it.  It got to the point where I was sending the payments in together with an instruction letter whose key words (“additional principal” “loan #25″, and so forth) were typed in 20 point font and all caps.  Didn’t help.  Those idiots still screwed it up.

Yesterday, I received my year-end bonus and decided it was time to pay off the rest of the non-consolidation loans (I had about $4,000 remaining due on a loan with 7.25% interest).  I call.  The customer service rep gives me the payoff amount on the loan.  I tell her I’d like to pay it off.  She asks for my checking account routing and account numbers.  I ask what my monthly payment will be now that this loan is repaid.  She gives me a number that makes sense (my current monthly payment less the part that goes to this loan).  I thank her.  She thanks me back, and tell me that the payment will post by midnight that night.  Easy.  The whole thing took 5 minutes and I hung up with my faith in Citibank renewed.

Alas, it was not meant to be.  I logged in to my student loan account this afternoon to see that, wait, you’ll never guess: Citibank misapplied the payment.  Despite there being absolutely no confusion on the phone, and despite the specific discussion of a full pay-off of one particular loan, my payment was applied across all of my loans on a pro rata basis, meaning about $700 went to the loan with the 7.25% interest rate, and the other $3,300 or so went to the consolidation loans with the 3.375% interest rate.  Someone at Citi probably thought that MUST have been what I wanted.  Makes sense, after all.  Why would I want to pay off the higher rate loan first, when there’s a perfectly good loan going unpaid with its interest below the rate of inflation?

Moral of the story?  Don’t get your student loans through Citibank.  Their incompetence is just appalling.