Uff, xi dwejjaq – a customer
Somebody sent in the comment below, and I thought I’d upload it as a post instead. I had been planning to write about the subject, prompted by my recent experience at – of all places – the departures lounge at the airport.
I stood at one of the coffee-shop counters there, ignored by the man and woman (staff) who were chatting as though I was invisible. The man was making a capuccino, so I assumed he was serving some other customer, even though I was the only one at the counter.
After a couple of minutes of this – chat, chat, chat, ignore, ignore, ignore – I said very loudly to the woman, who had briefly glanced my way, registered my presence as though it had nothing to do with her, and turned back to her colleague: ‘One glass of orange juice and a capuccino, please’.
At that point, the man finished making the capuccino and she reached out for it, so I said, ‘Oh thank you,’ imagining that – what do you know – it was for me.
But she raised it to her lips, sipped, and then said to me: “Jiimporta jekk tghid il-dan, ghax jien qeghda naqa brejk.” (“Do you mind if you tell this one, because I’m taking a little break.”)
I was so taken aback that I did. I actually repeated my order to the man who was still standing next to her, while she stood there, sipping and observing the exchange. Yes, she actually stood there behind the counter, drinking her coffee and not serving people.
Unbelievable.
Then I went off to the tax-free shop to buy a few things which I had forgotten to pack. The lady at the cash till, otherwise very nice and well-meaning, just couldn’t communicate in English. And by English I don’t mean pidgin, but idiom complete with the usual pleasantries.
The two English-speaking men ahead of me in the queue just couldn’t understand what she meant when she told them what they owed. “Excuse me? What was that again? I’m sorry? Would you repeat that, please?”
Accustomed as they almost certainly were to, say, “That will be thirty-four euros and fifty cents, please, sir”, they just couldn’t figure out what “Twan-tuss-evvanti. I set twan-tuss-evvanti” could mean.
I listened to the exchange and then, just as I feared my name would be called over the tannoy, I stepped in to translate, impatient to move on.
This part of the exchange completed, there was yet more in store.
“Bek?”
“Excuse me?”
“I set bek? For di tinks?”
It looked like we would be there all night, so I stepped in again.
The look on that customer’s face was a picture of astonishment. You could see him wondering why on earth they would pick somebody like that for the job.
Dear Daphne,
This has nothing to do with this blog so please do not include it with the other comments. I just could not find a good article where I could post this. I thought that you might be interested in placing a blog on the level of customer service given in Malta. In a time when sales are low and merchants are practically begging for sales you would expect them to at least try to be courteous to their customers!
I have just rushed out of a Nuvole store in Paola after being ridiculed by one of their sales representative / store keeper when my son accidentally dropped a sweet on the floor while I was trying on some clothes. My husband even offered to clean up himself but the rude lady simply refused and started making bad-mannered sounds to ensure that everyone in the store looked our way. I quickly dressed and swore to never go near any of their stores again leaving the clothes I was trying on piled up on the hangers. The same lady wasn’t pleased enough to have embarrassed us in front of everyone, she started shouting “vendikazzjoni, vendikazzjoni!!” simply because I left in a hurry and did not put the clothes back on the hangers! She even told us that kids are NOT ALLOWED to come in the stores! “This is not a restaurant!” she said.
This is absolutely unacceptable! I really hope you would be able to make an article on this. I am sure you know of many other similar incidents on customer services!
Marlene
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Geddumhom fix-xghir. That is the expression which, to my mind, portrays best the attitude taken by certain “sales”persons.
Instead of being thankful for getting a job, they feel it is their birthright to be employed, and therefore take doing their work as a nuisance.
On the other hand, managers should find ways to incentivize their underlings.
But managers too, probably feel it is their right to be employed and therefore feel no urge to manage their staff.
I was in a popular store waiting to buy some mauve tulle for a carnival costume.
I told the young sales girl what I wanted and she told me that they didn’t have any.
When I pointed out that there was a shelf with about ten different shades of mauve she looked at me as if I was the biggest idiot who ever entered that store and told me “Dawk viola”.
I think that those selling material should at least know the colours in English.
Once I went to a private hospital to have a contraceptive coil fitted and at the reception, the man dealing with my invoice called out “Il-coil gibtu int jew it-tabiba”. Everyone waiting there just stared at me waiting for my answer.
Another time I was in a pharamcy in Marsacala. I gave the pharmacist my prescription. I had cystitis. She said loudly, in earshot of other waiting customers: “Int ghandek infection fil-pipi u biex tinhasel?”
I ignored her and asked for some flu tablets, and she repeated the question, but I didn’t give her an answer.
I said that I needed the flu tablets only. It seems that she never learned how to deal with clients.
On my first visit to a gynaecologist in my teenage years, the receptionist asked me for my details. The reception was part of the waiting area so anyone could hear what was being said.
After shouting out my weight to her collegue who was sitting next to her, she asked out loud: ‘Int vergni jew le?’ Already uncomfortable with having everyone know how much I weighed, I stood there in disbelief.
She asked the question a second time and I mumbled, ‘Jimporta jekk nghid lit-tabiba meta nidhol ghal-vista?’ Thankfully, she didn’t ask a third time, but shrugged at me as if it was not a problem to refuse to let her and a dozen or so people – who were staring at me at this point – to know the details of my private life.
The departures coffee shop? Forget about it. Being pleasant to customers there is an alien concept. The cleaner drags her feet when moving from table to table; and the table tops are always sticky and with crumbs from priovious customers, even after they were supposed to have been cleaned.
I guess the owner does not care (or is ignorant of catering hygiene and staff correct behaviour) because the clientele is guaranteed anyway.
Customer care in Malta is nonexistent. Please, thank you and may I help you, are replaced with ‘aw sinjura’, ‘trid xi haga’, ‘aw hi’, ‘prova hemmek’ (hemmek fejn!).
[Daphne – The latest one: early today I got a telephone call.
‘Hello? Mrs Defni Caruana Galizia?’
‘Iva.’
‘Ha nghidlek, hi. Hawnhekk minn (names company). Hawn hempeRRRR ghalik minghandna. Ejja ghalih ghada wara nofsinhar jekk joghgbok.’
‘Ma nistax. U anke li kieku kont nista, xorta ma kontx se nigi ghalih. Meta taghti rigal lil xi hadd, tiehdu ghandu int, hu mhux tghid lilu biex jigi ghalih hu f’hin konvenjenti ghalik. Grazzi u sahha.’]
I have faced this kind of attitude so many times.
A lot of Maltese traders and staff don’t seem to realise that the internet has revolutionised everything.
I for one haven’t been into a shop (besides for food) for eons. Why should I?
To shop, I sit comfortably at home, go on-line, and do my shopping on the net. 99% of sites I have bought from have fabulous customer service, they bend over backwards to help, you are protected by Visa or Paypal, items come to your front door, and at half the price, shipping included.
The situation you went through at the airport is unfortunately one of the worst case scenarios for Malta.
You were a captive audience.
You couldn’t exactly go elsewhere for a coffee could you.
A few months ago, my girlfriend and I went to a shoe shop in Bugibba. The shop attendant had just mopped the floor, and we were told, in no nice terms, not to walk where she had just cleaned.
So every time we wanted to see a particular pair of shoes, and got closer to the shelves, we were berated, ‘tafguliex hi, ghadni kemm hsielt’ We just walked out.
Sadly, this behaviour is not uncommon in Malta. It is up to the owers of retail and other outlets to ensure that their employees are trained and have the right attitude for the job.
Courtesy is not an innate Maltese trait; it needs to be acquired, and while most Europeans are trained in their childhood, most of us Maltese have to teach ourselves in adulthood.
The lack of customer care is rampant in Malta, be it in shops, restaurants or, heaven help us all, in government departments and entities (remember ARMS ?).
I do not know why government departments advertise customer care dedicated phone lines and email addresses and then all you get when you phone is a ringing tone with no reply and a computer-generated reply to your email.
Even sending a letter explaining your situation with complete documentation is just simply ignored. Then when you go in person the first obstacle to be overcome is the ubiquitous messenger and then the clerk at the counter whose eyes light up when he tells you that you have to go to another department or that you have a document/signature/rubberstamp missing.
How many times has one entered a shop, restaurant and been greeted by a “Yes?” or just simply ignored? Could this be a throwback to our colonial past but on the other hand the worst culprits are the 20+ generation born 25 or more years after Independence.
We are now more than ever dependant on service industries when the idea of good customer care is light years away from the mindset of employers and employees.
Ah! This is so true – especially of the cashiers at the perfume & tobacco shop, which one cannot avoid.
They are coarse, ill-mannered, snappy and loud; and one of the floor managers – who is perhaps too dedicated to her role as the top hen of the brood – is quite something.
I once took note of her name as I thought I should send in a complaint, but eventually forgot to.
I remember being completely shocked at their attitude. I actually felt heavy in shame – my blood pressure even dropped at the way they were treating customers.
They kept passing snide, fractionally witty, comments in Maltese, the context of whiich one could perfectly grasp from their intonation.
Customers were hurried along, hissed at and spoken to in a variant of English which would have challenged the likes of Prof. Higgins.
Cashier: bortink pess!
Tourist: excuse me?
(Me, thinking: a “please” would be nice)
Cashier: Aj set bortink pess – det in pokit
Tourist: Oh! I see.
Cashier: Alla! dan mhux bl-Ingliz kellimtu jew? Gif mij tinks…U kemm xtara elkohol dan?
(Me, thinking: yes, Sparky, use the same word in his language and he is bound not to understand)
Cashier: Ajma, Gesu! Kif ghajjejt
(dragging and scanning, huffing and puffing at the sheer quantity of alcohol and tobacco before her)
Cashier 2: Iva, Mer hi! Igri nitilqu. WOTT? Ju wont tu pej in dollghaarz?
Floor manager: X’gara hawn?
Cashier 2: Ara dan irid ihallas bid-dollghaarz!
(Me, thinking: ehm! What’s the problem with that?)
Floor manager: Ju kaant pej in Jurowz?
Customer (wondering why his wish to pay in dollars warranted the attention of the manager): …but I asked to pay in dollars
(Me, thinking: it’s “can’t you…” not “you can’t…”)
Cashier 2: Il-madonna, m’ghandix bqija f’dollghaarz
Customer: Is there a problem?
Cashier 2: Yes, hu. Heqq ghax aj hef no dollghaarz in kexx
Customer: That’s all right, you can convert and give me the change in Euro…that’s what usually happens.
(Me, thinking: Damn! I’m going to miss this – as my things were being scanned and packed)
Cashier 2: Ju don’t hef Jurowz?
(Me: Don’t you, don’t you, don’t you!)
Customer: I know I don’t, that’s why I want to pay in dollars.
Cashier 2: Mhux jifhem…u kif suppost naqleb ghad-dollghaarz?
Floor manager: Il-Gijzis krajst…
(Me, thinking: …yes, finally she’s about to call her cashier a tuba – the till will surely do it for you)
Floor manager:…kemm hu antipatiku…
End of extract – At this point I really had to leave as I was very much in the way, and beginning to attract unwanted attention from my own cashier. Incredible.
The airport staff are usually quite helpful but some are extremely rude and ill-mannered.
I hate it when I enter a shop and am greeted by the one word bark “YES!” instead of being politely asked “How can I help you?” or something on that line.
I frequently use the new catamaran to go to Sicily. I can honestly say that the staff, majority Romanians, are a boon to their employers as they are well versed in excellent customer relationship.
This reminds me of the time when my wife and I went in a clothing store in Valletta where a tourist was also shopping. Upon asking for the price of an item, the sales girl asked her ‘boss’ how much and he replied, “Zommilha ghaxar liri. Din daqt titlaq min hawn u ma nergux narawha”!
And another instance when a sales girl was talking to her boyfriend on her mobile for minutes on end, completely ignoring me and when finally she had made arrangements for another date and before she hung up asked, “X’ghandek bzonn?” and proceeded to tell her boyfriend that, “Ha naqta ta ghax hawn xi hadd forsi jixtri xi haga”.
Disgusting, but unfortunately quite common. Customer care? Forget it!
What a coincidence I just slammed the phone down on a Melita Cable rep when she asked me for ‘naqa t-telefown number plees’
Can we have a column for excellent services rendered? There’s a couple of people I’d like to nominate.
I feel sorry for my young children (who learnt how to say “please” and “thank you” before they could say “mummy”) when they politely thank a salesgirl on buying something and they are very rarely acknowledged.
Most Maltese sales people have no idea of what “customer service” means, and the ones who are polite actually stand out. It’s the opposite when travelling: the ones who do stand out are the ones with the “Maltese attitude” towards their customers.
It happened to me at a rather popular lingerie shop in Valletta too when I was glared at by one of the salesgirls before she turned on to a colleague and said “nispera ma jidhol hadd iktar ghax qabzitli l-****a hawn!”. She then proceeded to slam my bag on the counter with my change.
Ironically, in one of the busiest toyshops (in Valletta too) which was absolutely packed with people, the owner was keeping people waiting in a queue while complaining to a similarly politically inclined customer that this government had turned Valletta into a new Mdina because of the CVA system “u m’hawnx ruh iktar hawn”.
Do we actually owe these people a job or something?
Marlene – After 2 days I am still confused with ‘dropped a sweet’ and ‘to clean up himself’. As if a dropped sweet (helwa in my view) needs any offer to clean up?? You simply pick it up. Can you please say what do you mean by ‘sweet’.
I’ve lost count of the times I’ve entered a clothes shop to buy a gift and the sales girl greets me at the door with a curt “we don’t have anything that fits you”.
You do not need an incentive to be well-mannered or civil. It’s all got to do with your upbringing. I’ve been greeted “Good Morning” or “Bongu” by gentlemen garbage collectors and also rudely addressed or ignored by supposedly educated people.
My pet hate is to be greeted with a resounding ‘Yesss?’ which to me translates into ‘What the hell do you want’. I have actually come to prefer the ‘Ghidli hi’ greeting because at least there is a tone of kindness in it.
Dear Marlene,
With reference to your blog I would like to make some points clear.
May I inform you that we have thousands of regular satisfied customers, visiting our outlets on weekly basis, obviously satisfied with our products and customer service.
Most of them follow our basic rules such as not eating messy food within our outlets and not let their kids run around the shop and disturbing other customers.
My staff are highly trained to give the best possible service in a retail outlet environment.
Thank you for your custom.
Julian Micallef
Nuvole
Good of you Daph to bring up this subject, as the standard of customer service by some salesgirls (yes, I am sorry but mostly girls) is simply appalling.
I also agree with Min Weber that some managers themselves couldn’t give a monkey’s ass, never mind leading by example. But, besides the behaviour of such sales assistants, we must not overlook the disastrous service being provided by catering establishments themselves.
Twice in the past week I have had to wait for over one hour before being served my order (nothing fancy – a simple plate of pasta), with the standard excuse that the chef is new (how’s that for an apology).
Case in point (pun intended), this happened today at The Point piazza cafeteria, where everybody was complaining of the abnormal delay.
We vowed never to go near the place again. Fact is, we, as customers, have become quite immune to such shoddy treatment and somehow put up with it.
When, after an hour, I threatened to leave if food wasn’t served within five minutes, hey presto, and the manageress appeared with the order – which was lousy in any case, and certainly not worth what it cost.
My opinion is that some of the many new catering places which are sprouting up all over, are not even equipped to handle all the tables that they manage to squeeze into their space.
I recall learning that the size of a restaurant kitchen should ideally be around 40% of the size of the restaurant itself, to ensure that it can cope with demand.
I wonder whether any inspections are ever carried out by the MTA, which regulates such licences, to ensure a decent service is being provided.
In the article read above there is written NAQA Break.
I simply can’t withstand this naqa instead of naqra.
It happened also to hear it at Mothercare in Sliema when the sales girl told my daughter “inti kul naqa” when I told her that the pygamas she showed me were too big for her.
shows that she’s from the Zabbar area
People like you are called “Grammar Nazis” and are, as a rule, encouraged to lighten up.
We all know that it’s naqra and not naqa, but we choose to write or say naqa because it’s quicker. Also, in this case, ‘naqa’ was used in a quote, so the author is more than justified in using ‘naqa’ instead of ‘naqra’.
I always thought what a great pity it is when an owner invests so much money into his shop and then employs characters (for want of a better word) who you would want to run a mile away from. My list of shops which I will not patronise because of their miserable ‘service’ is quite a long one.
DEAR DAPHNE,
COULD YOU PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO INSERT MY COMMENT REGARDING MY SHOP, COS YOU GAVE MRS MARLENE THE RIGHT TO MENTION MY SHOP AND SO FAR THIS RIGHT WAS NOT GRANTED TO ME.
JULIAN MICALLEF
NUVOLE
The owner of the shop ‘shouting’.
Can imagine what his employees are like.
I’d rather you hadn’t, considering what an awful reply it was.
One of the best insults I use when I am being served by somebody with shoddy manners is ” thank God, we do not have people like you in Zejtun”. It always hits the target.
OK, a feel a couple of counterexamples are in order here.
1. Ristorante Casanova at Valletta Waterfront.
A couple of weeks ago, I went there ten minutes before closing time. Not only was I greeted with courtesy and efficiency, and served a superb risotto in no time at all, I was even offered a coffee on the house. Brilliant!
2. Browns, still at Valletta Waterfront, where the barmaid (the epitome of charm and cleanliness – she polishes each glass before using it), seeing that I had run out of cash after my first espresso, offered me a second one and told me not to bother about the 1.50 Euro. I don’t know if it was on the house or if it was paid for out of her own pocket, but boy was I seduced by the service. Mmm, espresso!
Now both incidents involved foreigners, so they’re not the best of counterexamples. I should also mention the Maltese bus driver who brought my mobile phone back to the police station after I had lost it on his bus.
Then there’s O’Casey’s in Paceville, now sadly defunct and transformed into yet another fast food joint, where the (charming, er, foreign) barmaid made the best Pimm’s with lemonade I have ever tasted. And she’s not even British! One wonders what became of her.
Used to work myself behind a counter, but it was 5 star service. We were ‘obliged’ to deliver the best service because it was a 5-star hotel.
However, this didn’t stop some of my colleagues from assuming a moronic attitude behind the client’s back. I hated it: every time a client came in you could hear one of the staff complaining about it. Now how on earth would they have a job if no clients came in?
Then there were the rude comments about clients’ clothing, choices from the menu, spending potential and tipping – the smaller the tip, the greater the revenge.
Isn’t it time to change the stagnated mentality of being spoon-fed by the state? What about healthy competition at the place of work? What about a result-oriented work contract? It’d be the right change for certain employees.