Discrimination!

While my wife jetted (or trained) off to Zermatt for the day, I had some very important business to attend to including buying minutes for my cell phone and opening a bank account. The latter is something that I have been avoiding for a while now, but today felt like the day. The air is fresh, the mountains looking more vivid than usual, and the idea of actually owning my own Swiss bank account (if you can really own such a thing) sounded especially enticing today. So I headed to the bank with a boost of self-confidence in my step and a few new French words I looked up in the dictionary to impress the bank staff with my vocabulary, you know, before they switch to English and we both breathe a sigh of relief.

Well, that lovely little dream of having my very own bank account with my very own debit card went pop! Nope, not happening. The moment they asked me for ID and I asked if my American Driver's License would work (I am paranoid about carrying around my passport), the kind lady looked at me with disappointment dripping from her pale face and responded, "I'm sorry, but we cannot open accounts with Americans anymore." Let's see, are you at all acquainted with that UBS scandal that happened just a few months back? Where thousands of Americans were holding (and still are as far as I know) Swiss bank accounts to save their asses and their money? Ummm... tax evasion much? Yeah, well apparently that whole situation is preventing me from starting a bank account here. Surprised? I actually wasn't. When they nice lady told me this, I smiled back and said, "You know, I had a feeling this would be a tiny problem. Oh well, thank you for your time! Have a nice afternoon."

Pivoting on my toes, I walked out feeling no less confident. Okay, so maybe I didn't get that account number I wanted, but how many people can say that they attempted to open a Swiss bank account? Yeah, I still think it's pretty cool, even if they refused my money. And strange as it sounds, and I don't want this to come out arrogant in any way, I don't think I've ever been refused something by being who I am--an American. It felt kind of liberating and identity forming, though in a slightly twisted way. I suppose that if you are discriminated against, that means that you must stand for something or someone, even if that person is yourself (and your country in this case). Obviously they had good reason not to take me as a new customer based on recent events, and I am in no way supporting or condoning the Americans that hold such accounts to avoid taxes. I guess the whole experience was something I had never encountered before, and knowing that I associate with such an infamous (in this case) country felt good. I may not be proud of everything my country (or its inhabitants) does, but that doesn't make me any less American. And in addition to the time I have already spent abroad, I have to say that living here makes me appreciate my country more than ever, even if it is known as the birthplace of Walmart, George W. Bush, and Freedom Fries. I'll pass on the fries thanks, but American? Yes please, I'll take it!