DECEMBER 6, 2019 – A thousand years ago, or so it seems, I landed in what was then known as Bombay, India. I’d flown from Australia, where I’d been on the loose for the previous month, after the month before in New Zealand. Many of the European travelers I’d met “Down Under” had come via India. They’d described it as “a place like no other.” That turned out to be an understatement. Never in my previous wanderings had my senses been so intensely assaulted by the bizarre. As I reflect on my six-week sojourn in India and Kashmir, I’m amazed I survived.
My travelers checks didn’t. They were stolen soon after I landed. I went to a police station to file a report and was given paperwork for replacing the checks. The next day I found a small American Express office in the heart of the city and presented the police report and the record of my stolen checks. Soon I was back on track—fully funded again.
About the time I’d been traveling around the world, my dad had purchased AmEx travelers checks denominated in Swiss francs. The idea had been advanced in some doomsday newsletter to which he’d subscribed. He’d stashed the checks away for us to find after he died and, as it turned out, before the world was truly in danger of going to hell in a hand-basket. After finding the checks a decade ago, I’d investigated redemption, but the process proved too convoluted for my attention span.
Last month I made another run at redemption. Fortunately, Switzerland hadn’t joined the EU.
I went to a local downtown branch of a large retail bank. A young, diligent banker hopped on an internal information site and found the redemption requirements for me. I rounded up the paperwork and returned a few days later. It then took three young diligent bankers well past closing time to process the complex transaction involving high international finance. Victory at last!
So I thought. Four days later a FedEx package arrived from the bank, travelers checks enclosed. Attached to each check was a form letter stating that the checks could not be redeemed and that the deposit had been reversed.
The young bankers back at the branch apologized and told me to . . . “Google it.” I went straight to the AmEx website, searched, and tried various phone numbers. Persistence led me to the “go to” customer service person for AmEx. When I heard his clipped accent, I asked where he was sitting, and sure enough, it was . . . India!
The guy was amazing. He knew exactly what I needed to do and gave me a long, precise checklist of items I needed to submit. They were to be directed to an AmEx office in Salt Lake City, which would then forward them to the very guy on the line over in Delhi.
Ten days later, the funds were magically deposited into the designated account.
India. A place like no other!
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© 2019 Eric Nilsson
