It took moving half way around the world for me to realize how utterly dependent I had become on good customer service. We westerners often react with fear and aggression when suddenly deprived of service in the language and style we are accustomed to. We may feel lost, scared and alone, just as if we had dropped our iPhone in the toilet. If nothing else, experiencing customer service in a language and culture foreign to us will bring into relief cultural idiosyncrasies, and maybe even reveal our true nature. Westerners in China, for example, may be surprised or even offended by the type of service they receive at times. While ordering at a small town KFC, I had the following interchange with a cashier: Me: "Hi, I would like to order item A." Cashier: "We are out of A. We do have B, and C." Me: "Ok, I'll have B." Cashier: "It would be more convenient if you ordered C." Me: "Come on, really? Ok, what is item C? I can't understand the description." Cashier: "It doesn't matter. Do you want to order it?" Me: "Ok, fine." While eating my menu item C (which turned out to be a New Orleans style chicken sandwich), I thought about the customer service I had just received. On one hand, I had reason to be annoyed. In the middle of the day, a popular menu item wasn't available, and the second most popular was mysteriously "inconvenient". The cashier couldn't be bothered to answer a simple question about a new menu item. On top of this, I wasn't even offered a choice of drink, I was just handed a Cola. On the other hand, service was lightning fast. The place was mobbed, but the line moved remarkably quickly. Yes, I wasn't given much of a choice of sandwich, or any choice at all of drink (all KFC meals in our town are served with Pepsi unless you firmly resist), but there was also zero attitude. I was told it didn't matter what variation chicken sandwich I ended up getting, and as I ate my food, I realized my cashier had been absolutely correct. Customer service in China is a product of its environment, by necessity. Huge volumes of people are being served, and no one has time for you to be picky, or throw a tantrum. If you hesitate for a moment the next person in line will invariably place their order over your shoulder, and the cashier will calmly, and instantly accept it. At times I've seen a crowd of people all shoving money at one cashier, and was impressed to see the cashier accept people's money in perfect sequence of their arrival, without a hint of frustration! The problem of getting useful help from local store employees stumped me for some time. I find that people in customer service roles here are full of information, but completely unprepared to answer specific questions. When faced with a choice between saying "I don't know" or giving misinformation, they will usually chose the latter. In a supermarket, I was told, "we don't carry milk", when I later found it in the next isle. (In my defense, there were two isles full of yogurt drinks in milk carton containers, and I couldn't read Chinese). In a home improvement store I was told "we don't carry trash bags," when they were in fact right behind the woman. Over time, I realized that most Chinese customers just don't ask these questions, they use their own brain to find what they need. Most would be embarrassed to admit that they couldn't find the milk. When I ask store employees for help, they often give me a baffled look because they can't believe any self-respecting person would ask such a question. Yes, there are often hordes of young service people standing in the isles of large stores, but their role is to follow you, and talk in an unbroken stream of words describing in minutia every item you show interest in, in an effort to increase sales. This method is apparently very effective with Chinese shoppers. In the end, experiencing customer service Chinese-style has forced me to become more Chinese myself: Self-reliant, gracious under pressure, and fully ready to make the best of any situation. - Chris Zaic, expat in China
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My wife and I love to eat out. During the early years of our marriage, finding good places to eat became a favorite pastime for us. We would read reviews, ask friends for recommendations, even travel for hours to enjoy a good meal. When we began planning our move from the New York area to China, we had visions of romantic dinners in family owned noodle shops, where the recipe had been refined over the centuries to something near perfection. We expected a series of food adventures, a process of discovery that was its own reward. The reality is that food became one of our biggest challenges to feeling comfortable in China. Early on we realized that finding useful reviews of local Chinese restaurants was nearly impossible. There was virtually no information online about small shops, and my Chinese coworkers didn't share our excitement about tracking down the best local eateries. Experimenting on our own was hit and miss, and a few cases of food poisoning dampened our initial enthusiasm. My coworkers invariably brought home cooked food for lunch. It was common for them to bring extra food to share with one another, and soon I became part of this, letting them try my western food, and sampling their home cooked meals. I quickly realized why they never went out for lunch. The leftovers they brought for lunch every day were simply fantastic, better than any other Chinese food I’d tasted, far superior to anything we'd found in local restaurants. At last, I had found the time honored, lovingly perfected recipes I had been looking for. Delicious dishes made from carefully selected fresh ingredients simply weren’t available in local restaurants, but these lunches were a revelation, the perfect introduction to real Chinese food. It came to me why I had trouble getting reviews and recommendations... for my friends, eating out was not recreation, it was a last resort. Since those first few weeks, we've experienced cuisine from nearly every province, and found it to be incredibly varied and interesting. No matter where in China we go, one thing remains constant: the best food is found in people’s homes. -Chris Zaic, expat in China It’s Friday, World Music Friday!
Today we travel to Portugal. The name of Portugal itself reveals much of the country's early history, stemming from the Roman name Portus Cale, a Latin name meaning "Port of Cale" (some argue that Cale is a word of Celtic origin, which also means port or harbour), later transformed into Portucale, and finally into Portugal, which emerged as a county of the Kingdom of León (see County of Portugal) and became an independent kingdom in 1139. During the 15th and 16th centuries, Portugal was a major economic, political, and cultural power, its global empire stretching from Brazil to the Indies, as well as Macau and Japan. One of the best known Portuguese music genres is Fado ("destiny, fate"), a form of music characterized by mournful tunes and lyrics, often about the sea or the life of the poor, and infused with a characteristic sentiment of resignation, fatefulness and melancholia (loosely captured by the word saudade, or "longing"). Amália Rodrigues known as the Rainha do Fado ("Queen of Fado"), sings Barco Negro. Enjoy!! |
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May 2016
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