Scoring Mark and I some Shekels and in-good-condition Benjamin’s today. The plastic chip-read cards at a cash dispenser may work in Israel. But I was in Bulgaria when the entire banking network shut down so I’m forever tainted.
The transition from Communism to a virgin, free market economy was impossible for financial institutions to navigate. They failed.
“They are shutting the bank doors,” my local pastor friend announced as he walked through his apartment door.
I was staying with them for five days. The next morning we went out to explore Sophia and meet some folks.
Single file lines of people dressed in dark colored clothes. They stretched for blocks and blocks as panicked Bulgarians wondered their financial fate. Savings was a new concept. Having just emerged from years of scarcity, to even put back $20 was a big deal.
“People are loosing their lives out there,” commented Vencie as we drove past them.
The next night over a simple but delicious baked dinner of green peppers stuffed with white rice, we learned that vouchers for domestic goods were being issued for missing investments. All disgruntled bank customers had to do was show the useless paper exchange to a scantly stocked post Cold War department store clerk.
“We don’t want a new set of bed sheets or dishes,” he declared with disgust. “We want our cash!”
History is full of lessons.
I’m heading to the bank now. With Israel at war, I’m not taking any chances.