I was back in my beloved homeland for less than a week when I started experiencing Mzansi-styled service again, and it wasn’t completely delightful, writes Lance Fredericks.
DURING these times when hand-held devices, computer monitors and television screens have our gazes trained and transfixed on one spot, it is worth noting that eye exercises, sometimes called ‘eye-yoga’ can be quite beneficial.
In fact, some experts suggest that “eye exercises will strengthen weak eye muscles, improving blood circulation and muscle tone … This toning helps to minimise eye strain, allowing your eyes to work more efficiently.”
Some suggested exercises include ‘Palming’ that helps relax the muscles around the eyes, reducing eye fatigue. Blinking, because when we spend time on digital devices, our blink rate slows down, as well as, amongst others, ‘figure eight’ exercises, which is just another way of saying eye rolling.
DFA readers should therefore be excited to learn that this publication is about to provide eye-strengthening exercises free of charge right now as our readers’ eyes roll to the back of their heads when they learn that I am not yet done raving about my recent trip to the Far East.
But bear with me as I share this episode of my visit to a pen kiosk at a department store to enquire whether it would be possible to replace a damaged nib on one of my darling fountain pens.
The level of service at this kiosk had me stunned.
The young man listened to the query, then produced a black velvet cloth which he placed on the counter. Note, I said ‘placed’ because he didn’t simply put the cloth down.
Next he accepted (not ‘took’) my pen and examined it carefully before disassembling it and placing – yes, placing – the components on the cloth. I was disappointed to hear that they did not have the nib I needed in stock, but relieved when, after consultation with his colleague, he offered to order the part.
However, I would not have to wait for the ordered nib to arrive. No, he had a customer in his shop and he was determined that his customer would leave satisfied. So he disassembled one of the display pens and attached that nib to my pen, explaining that he would insert the nib he ordered into the display pen.
That shopping experience crowned what I had been experiencing for a few weeks by that point. From taxi drivers to store clerks to post office personnel, to cashiers and grocery packers the levels of service were something I had never experienced before.
I eventually had to shave off my goatee because my jaw had dropped so many times the hair was getting kroes. I realised that there is no ‘customer service’ in Hong Kong. There they strive for ‘customer excellence’.
“Oh how our stores back in South Africa could benefit,” I thought wistfully each time I witnessed employees in action.
I was back in my beloved homeland for less than a week when I started experiencing Mzansi-styled service again. The first example happened last week when, instead of summoning a scooter to bring my groceries to me, I decided to visit the mall to pick up a few items myself.
The young cashier passed my items over the scanner after I handed her the tote bag I had brought along.
Three minutes later, as the cashier waited to hand my receipt to me, with her supervisor and a colleague leaning in close proximity, there I was packing my own tote bag. Not one of the store’s three employees at the till seemed prepared to pack groceries that afternoon. How disappointing.
Another example happened this past Wednesday when I went to pick up a parcel at the same mall.
The young person there didn’t seem thrilled that I asked for help, but that wasn’t what caught my attention. When it came to verifying that it was the correct parcel, she asked for the reference number, which I read to her.
Next, she held out her hand to me, palm up, and I stared at her palm trying to forecast her future; it predicted that I would be mentioning her in a newspaper column before the weekend.
She must have looked up and seen the confused look on my face, because she then said, “ID please.” She must have realised that though I was trying to read her palm, I could not read minds.
And it doesn’t end there. A while back I was at a place where I had to collect an item. However, in order to receive the item, your biometrics have to be captured – fingerprints and digital signature.
However, when I was called to the counter to take possession of the little article, I didn’t know that yet. I approached the counter and the young person behind the computer monitor, without looking up, said, “left thumb”.
I was a bit confused, and wanted to give her a “shup” sign. But before I could shoot up an approving thumb, she nodded at the little device on the counter and the coin dropped in my head; I had to place my left thumb on the scanner – duh.
When she said “right thumb” I was ready and waiting. It was thrilling to know that I too knew what was happening though proper communication would have been so much better upfront.
I do realise that many, many, MANY of our workers in SA know how to do their jobs because they have been trained to do just that. But far too many workers, from supermarkets to banking institutions don’t seem to realise that sometimes, often in fact, clients, customers and guests would appreciate some clear, polite, verbal communication.
A nod of the head is a poor substitute for inviting the customer to your service point.
To me – and this is just my humble (or maybe conceited) opinion – it seems as if the Mzanzi workforce is not being trained in customer relations. Either that, or it’s the last page of the training manual, a paragraph or two under the heading ‘miscellaneous’.
And it’s pointless fighting with every poorly trained store clerk every time and putting them in their place, because had their company trained them effectively, the employees would have dealt with you better. And during these times of load-shedding, fuel and food price hikes, companies need to ask if it’s worth it to invest resources into training staff that will see customers return to their store. Personally, I think it would be.
Here’s the surprising thing; I complained about the poor service to a few people, friends of mine, confessing that I must have become quite a snob after visiting the Far East.
But each one of the people I spoke to told me that, though they have never travelled over the waters, they too were massively frustrated by the work ethic in South Africa.
Speaking about work ethic, did you see how just this past week we were treated to the awful story of workers in the Msunduzi Municipality in KZN who, though employed to clean a cemetery, saw fit to make themselves comfortable and sleep on graves?
My one friend quipped, “Maybe they’re not sleeping. Maybe they’re mourning!”
Remind me not to buy him a birthday gift.
Oh, wait … I have to add a disclaimer though. This bad service I am complaining about is not encountered in every single store, café and outlet in our city. There are a few places in our city that it is an absolute delight to visit.
One wonders if they can’t outsource their staff training to other institutions. That would be nice.
