Standards of Service

Auranghabad and much of the rest of India!
February 2010

Having spent quite a bit of time working in American hotels, sometimes I feel that I’ve been spoiled. Knowing how things should, and can, be done, my expectations can be a little unrealistic at times. American standards of customer service are some of the highest in the world; even England can suffer in comparison, so imagine how we feel when we visit budget locations in a country far removed from both our homes.
Now in India, as everywhere, there are distinct variations in front desk staff according to what kind of hotel you are staying in. Some are incredibly smiley and will refer to Paul as ‘sir’ four times in each sentence. Others are gruff and businesslike to the point of rudeness. Some young boys will be happy to show you available rooms, but will have a vocabulary limited to ‘bed’, ‘toilet’, ‘shower’, ‘fan’ – very well meaning I’m sure, but not that useful in negotiating a rate. Other guest houses are run by old men who speak English well enough, but are so grumpy about it that you feel you are inconveniencing them by staying at their hotel. The concept of professionalism seems to be entirely alien in most of the places we stayed; in one place it was so unknown that while checking in Paul was asked if he wanted to buy a certain illegal herbal substance by a reception guy who was very obviously under the influence of it himself for our entire stay. It made the employee very happy and friendly towards us, but less than efficient in dealing with any requests.
Other hotel services suffer in the same way. In Auranghabad, the simple dinner of naan and dahl we had ordered for our room took about two hours to arrive. I know for a fact that the first time I went down to enquire as to its whereabouts, the staff were all sitting outside smoking and had completely forgotten my existence. I was subsequently told about three times that it would be ready in ten minutes; I think I expended more energy running up and down the stairs than I actually got from the food! Again, the concept that the customer is always right is completely unknown – I think the staff of many budget hotels in India think that guests are an nuisance who interfere with their busy day of watching cheesy soaps on TV or talking on their phones. Woe betide any Big Sky employee found on their phone whilst on duty – paying attention to guests is what you’re supposed to be doing, and is, after all, the reason you are paid to be in the hotel at all. At least, that was what my attitude had become, but I don’t think this was shared by the many hotel employees who studiously ignored me.
Restaurants are another fun thing to compare to home. Food often arrives on ‘Indian time’, which you quickly get used to because complaining about it will do you no good at all. Some wait staff – particularly in small, cafeteria-style places – are so friendly that you are almost overwhelmed. In broken English they will attempt to explain the entire menu to you, repeatedly trying to make you order their favourite, even if it’s not at all what you want. The order will inevitably be mixed up or incorrect in some way, but they smile so much that you don’t have the heart to tell them that the sweet, milky broth in front of you bears no resemblance to black coffee (as Paul frequently found) or that you definitely did not order your eggs with ham (if you are a vegetarian like myself). However, over-attention does not always mean you are satisfied with the service. It can be a little disconcerting to have a silent, stern waiter hover – I mean literally stand right at the edge of the table watching you eat – for the entire duration of your meal. As a westerner I sometimes felt more like a chimpanzee on show than a customer in a restaurant. Then there are those who merely perceive you as a source of ready cash. If service is good then yes we will tip, but I find it a little off-putting to have an old guy stand over us demanding ‘service, service’ before we’ve even looked at the bill. And usually the ones who do this have forgotten to place your order, brought you the wrong drinks and then coughed all over your food when it emerges two hours later.
So perhaps it is no surprise that when we do encounter good service, we revel in it. Our ‘luxury’ Christmas treat to ourselves was entirely based on service; it wasn’t the rooms that sold the hotel to us, but the two incredibly professional guys at the reception. They did their utmost to sell us the room without being pushy and negotiated on prices and packages with as much skill as any Big Sky deskie. Every time I walked through the lobby they would stand up, smile and greet me with ‘good afternoon madam, how is your day?’ I think I was more excited at the fact that there were ‘real front desk staff’ than anything else. I may have been spoiled, but at least I now truly appreciate good service when I find it.