Learning Patience
The great day arrived! We have been here in England five weeks, and in Oxford four weeks. We thought it would never happen. The weeks and months preparing in Gilbert, the weeks in North Salt Lake. They were all happy busy weeks, but we couldn't imagine actually being here. And now, we are beginning to find our way around the city, beginning to get a feel for where we are. SK is beginning to feel more comfortable driving on the left side of the road, and I am beginning to feel more genuine enthusiasm for cooking more often. We are beginning to be more patient, with ourselves, with others and with the process of time.
Today was a case in point.
We went to the bank to open an account (we just received the necessary ID card yesterday). We walked into the bank with a small folder in hand. Inside the folder were the cards, our passports, a letter from the mission office stating that we do indeed reside here in England. We were kindly and courteously informed that it would be a 45 minute wait. We thought about taking care of other things, but the lady primly said if we were to do that, we would lose our place in the line or queue.
So we stayed, and we stayed.....and we stayed. An hour and a half later, we were taken back to an office the size of a walk-in closet with a young bank employee. She asked if we would like something to drink, because "this would take a couple of hours." A couple of hours? I thought she was kidding....she wasn't.
We opened a simple basic bank account, one that we could deposit money into, and one that we could withdraw money from. No credit cards, no special features, no paper statements. Nothing but the plainest of bank accounts.
She had to have copies of every form of ID we had. She had to do a background check. She had to explain everything in the easiest language to understand. She had to walk us through setting up our banking on-line app. At one point, SK exclaimed, "This would take 10 minutes in America!"
Unruffled, she explained why English banks must be so careful, restating several times, "We must prevent money-laundering and such."
Four hours after entering the bank, we walked out into a world that had been drenched with rain. We had our trusty umbrella, but unfortunately we missed it!
We had a half hour by the time we got home to get ready for a dinner appointment with a family from one of the wards. We were invited, along with the young sister missionaries to come this evening at five. We set out at 3:30 for a trip the GPS said would take 37 minutes. The sister missionaries had told us to give ourselves at least an hour on a Friday night in Oxford. At exactly 5, we arrived in the little city of Watlington. It took us an hour and a half to wade through the traffic.
We knocked on the door expectantly. The man who answered was not the man we were looking for. We got into the car and called the sister missionaries who told us that we were not only at the wrong house, not only on the wrong street, but in the wrong town. They were at the Sutton's home, and I asked to speak to Brother or Sister Sutton. I apologized profusely, and asked if they had ever lived in Watlington. "Never," came the reply.
A quick consult with Google told us that it would be an hour and a half to get there. We thanked them for their kind offer and agreed it was best for us to return to Oxford - another 40-minute trip supposedly. It was 2 hours. Look at this screen shot of Google maps as we got closer to home. We could have crawled the last mile in less time!
We ate leftovers, which weren't bad, and watched the Face-to-Face live from London with Elder Bednar. It was absolutely magnificent. I wish I could have heard him when I was a young adult. As it is, the words he spoke went right to my heart. You really ought to watch. It is on LDS.org.
It has still been a good day. We DID get our bank account. And around 8:45, the sisters came by with two sacks of food from the Suttons. That was so very kind. The sister missionaries were cute and sympathetic.
We learned a little more about the area surrounding Oxford, and I think we both learned just a tiny bit more about patience.
Today was a case in point.
We went to the bank to open an account (we just received the necessary ID card yesterday). We walked into the bank with a small folder in hand. Inside the folder were the cards, our passports, a letter from the mission office stating that we do indeed reside here in England. We were kindly and courteously informed that it would be a 45 minute wait. We thought about taking care of other things, but the lady primly said if we were to do that, we would lose our place in the line or queue.
So we stayed, and we stayed.....and we stayed. An hour and a half later, we were taken back to an office the size of a walk-in closet with a young bank employee. She asked if we would like something to drink, because "this would take a couple of hours." A couple of hours? I thought she was kidding....she wasn't.
We opened a simple basic bank account, one that we could deposit money into, and one that we could withdraw money from. No credit cards, no special features, no paper statements. Nothing but the plainest of bank accounts.
She had to have copies of every form of ID we had. She had to do a background check. She had to explain everything in the easiest language to understand. She had to walk us through setting up our banking on-line app. At one point, SK exclaimed, "This would take 10 minutes in America!"
Unruffled, she explained why English banks must be so careful, restating several times, "We must prevent money-laundering and such."
Four hours after entering the bank, we walked out into a world that had been drenched with rain. We had our trusty umbrella, but unfortunately we missed it!
We had a half hour by the time we got home to get ready for a dinner appointment with a family from one of the wards. We were invited, along with the young sister missionaries to come this evening at five. We set out at 3:30 for a trip the GPS said would take 37 minutes. The sister missionaries had told us to give ourselves at least an hour on a Friday night in Oxford. At exactly 5, we arrived in the little city of Watlington. It took us an hour and a half to wade through the traffic.
We knocked on the door expectantly. The man who answered was not the man we were looking for. We got into the car and called the sister missionaries who told us that we were not only at the wrong house, not only on the wrong street, but in the wrong town. They were at the Sutton's home, and I asked to speak to Brother or Sister Sutton. I apologized profusely, and asked if they had ever lived in Watlington. "Never," came the reply.
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| Do you see the little arrow in the upper left if where we were supposed to be. The arrow on the right is where we were. |
A quick consult with Google told us that it would be an hour and a half to get there. We thanked them for their kind offer and agreed it was best for us to return to Oxford - another 40-minute trip supposedly. It was 2 hours. Look at this screen shot of Google maps as we got closer to home. We could have crawled the last mile in less time!
 |
| Look at this!!!!!! We were 1.3 miles from our flat, and Google said it would take 26 minutes! In reality, it took 45 minutes. |
We ate leftovers, which weren't bad, and watched the Face-to-Face live from London with Elder Bednar. It was absolutely magnificent. I wish I could have heard him when I was a young adult. As it is, the words he spoke went right to my heart. You really ought to watch. It is on LDS.org.
It has still been a good day. We DID get our bank account. And around 8:45, the sisters came by with two sacks of food from the Suttons. That was so very kind. The sister missionaries were cute and sympathetic.
We learned a little more about the area surrounding Oxford, and I think we both learned just a tiny bit more about patience.
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