By Anirban Dey

“When I go into a bank I get rattled. The clerks rattle me; the wickets rattle me; the sight of the money rattles me; everything rattles me.”
– Stephen Leacock, ‘My Financial Career’

Well, my visit to a bank in Stockholm wasn’t as hilarious as Leacock’s, nor was it as embarrassing. It did teach me a few important lessons though. Lessons that I thought would be useful to share with you, all ye newcomers to Sweden – this wonderful, yet (at times) slightly inscrutable country!

I should have taken heed of the portents the moment I stepped out of my house – an overcast day, gloomy skies, with imminent rain brewing conspiracies in the wind. My wife was at work, which is why I had to make a trip to this bank by myself in order to open an account (the name and location of this particular establishment will be kept a secret for reasons of propriety).

The first hurdle was the door. Doors in Sweden often confuse me because I’m never quite sure whether they open to the inside or the outside. Sometimes one also needs to find the ‘key’ switch that has to be pressed to open a mechanical door. I can’t remember what it was for this specific door, but after fumbling about it like a blunderbuss for a good minute, I figured out how to open it. Unbeknownst to me, the rummaging around and my presence had already been noticed by the bank staff.

Cool stares greeted me as I walked into the office, having created another sideshow of wiping my wet shoes vigorously on the doormat. Oh, and before I forget – I was in my tee shirt, jeans and flipflops; a bad idea in hindsight (but more about that later). I took a coupon – six months of staying in Stockholm had taught me that there are waiting coupons and orderly queues for almost everything – and waited for my turn.

After a while, my number flashed across the screen and I rose to meet the bank representative at the counter. She muttered a tentative ‘hej’ and looked askance at me – uncomfortable yet polite – in a way only Swedes can. I proceeded to explain that I needed to open a bank account and gave her the details of where I stay, what I did for a living, why I needed the account, and finally, showed her a letter from my employer. She looked impassive and unimpressed. Did I have a personnummer? – she asked. I gave her my Swedish identity card. She punched in my personnummer on the keyboard, presumably to check on me. I’m assuming she didn’t quite like what she found. Was I a politically exposed person? – was her next question. I squirmed at this (internally) but flashed a genial grin across my face and told her I wasn’t. I made a joke of some sort. Both the grin and the joke went unreciprocated. I faltered. There were beads of perspiration beginning to form underneath my collar.

Then she resorted to the last question in her arsenal (a rather obvious one, now that I come to think of it) – had I written to the bank previously and did I have an appointment? I mumbled in the negative, now panicking visibly and just wishing for this whole episode to be over, like a bad dream. For the first time in the conversation, the lady beamed. She had finally zeroed upon my Achilles heel and moved in for the kill-shot. I would need to fill-in an online form with various details and then seek an appointment with the bank, she thundered, bearing down on me with a malevolent smile. This process could take anything between two weeks or more, for the bank to conduct a background check on me and then deem me worthy (or unworthy) of being bestowed the honour of opening an account with them. I nodded my acquiescence and walked out of the bank on wavering legs.

True to her word, the lady sent me a link which led me to an online portal where I had to fill-in my details and submit them. A reply came after almost two weeks, with more questions. It was evident to me at this point that this was going to be a never-ending saga. I was doomed never to have a bank account in Sweden, and I had little choice but to accept my fate.

At this moment of despair, my wife stepped in.

She suggested that I find clothes that were more formal in nature (a jacket, shirt, trousers, shoes) and make another trip to the bank – a different branch, but most importantly, this time, with her in tow. So, I did.

We went to a branch of the same bank in a new neighbourhood we had moved into. Right off the bat, things were different. There were no coupons to start with. Quite an anomaly for Sweden, I reckoned. We waited only for a brief while before being beckoned to a table by a bank representative who listened to me with enthusiasm and asked me a few intermittent questions. He asked for my personnummer, having previously waved away the letter from my employer stating that it wasn’t required. He scanned my identity card, while I filled in the forms that he gave me. He said that the bank would get back to me in two weeks after a background check (the bank gave me a go-ahead in less than a week’s time). And in a matter of ten minutes it was all over!

We stepped out of the bank – me feeling lighter. My wife gave me a triumphant smile. I realise that I will never hear the end of this, but hey, at least I have a bank account now!

Pointers to open a bank account (these are my subjective opinions of course):

• Have all your documents in order i.e. your Swedish identity card, your residence and work permit (if applicable), a letter from your employer mentioning the terms of employment (if needed) and clearly filled-out bank forms.
• Communicate where you are working or your circumstances clearly to the bank. They need to know what sort of transactions you are going to use the account for, or the nature of deposits to your account.
• Don’t dress too casually. I think banks feel more secure if you (at least) look like you’ve got your act together.
• Take your partner along. Again, I feel banks need that extra reassurance that you are a dependable person who, in all probability, won’t indulge in money laundering!
• Sweden has several banks with branches all over Stockholm. Visit the banks in your neighbourhood. If it does not work out with one bank, do not hesitate to get in touch with another.
• Last, but not the least, best not to make jokes while talking to a bank representative! Take it from me. They sense your nervous energy, which probably does you no favours.

First published on the 10th of December 2019 and last modified on the 11th of February 2022