Urban vs Rural Banking.

     A clerk I knew from Bank of India, Citylight branch got transferred to Parbhani. Quite often, staff believes that any transfer, unless requested, is a punishment of sorts. But this guy was different. He was enthusiastic about doing his best wherever he was, wanted to experience out-of-Mumbai life (fresh air, no commute, vegetables straight from the farms, cheap servants), and prove to his bank how efficient he was. This last intention got him into trouble. 

 

     In Mumbai, counter staff doesn't discriminate between male and female customers. Everyone's in a rush, quite often they run their own little empires, even if it happens to be a grocery shop, and no one suffers fools. Receptionists are supposed to know their jobs and do them quickly so that those in the queue aren't kept waiting. Between 0930 and 1100 in the morning, if the computer is 'not feeling well', tempers are lost, feet stamped, bad words mouthed, and old grumbles dug up. The moment the monitors flicker on, the clerks have to 'sprint' up printing passbooks, signing scrolls, handing out cash, whatever.

     So our man in a small new branch in Parbhani decided to show his new boss how smart and savvy he was. The customer was a woman. The simple cash transaction was over in less than 30 seconds. He smiled, waved her aside and asked for the next person to step forward. Within a couple of minutes, the Manager called him to his cabin and rudely asked him why he was 'acting smart'.

     Apparently, like in cities, many small town women make it a point to do their bank work themselves. The city women are in a rush, and will throw a tantrum if a second is wasted. 

 

     This woman, on the other hand, had taken the day off from household chores. She had booked a rickshaw for the morning, dressed up in her finery and planned to go shopping after withdrawing cash. My friend apparently hadn't had the decency to ask her how her folks were, how she was, whether she'd had her chai-nashta before coming, where she was going after this... he hadn't even introduced himself to her. Did he know who she was? (This question is so common in the India that is Bharat: hanv kon zana? Main kaun hoon pata hai? Mee kon ahe mahiti aahen?). How dare he dismiss her so fast?

 

     Anyone who is dealing with people must be introduced to the culture of the place. Some questions which we take for granted in cities (“What range should I show you?”) can be misconstrued elsewhere (“Does he think I can't afford it?”). Loss of customer is loss of business. Rushing in to make changes, no matter how logical those changes might seem, can also be counter productive.

     My friend learned his lesson pretty fast, and his tenure after that was uneventful. I am told that banks now have programs to introduce their staff to cultural differences.

Incomes Change, People Don't.

The first instance is in a BEST bus, Mumbai, early in one morning. A passenger doesn't have the change for a hundred bucks and neither does the conductor, so the former decides she needn't buy the ticket. The conductor explains that by the time her destination arrives, others would have climbed on the bus and he'd be able to give her the change. He points out the rule painted above the seat which says “please tender exact change”. The woman turns nasty and finally he decides to stop the bus and let her get off. He turns and tells us: “If the tc gets on and finds her without a ticket, I get fined.” Sigh.

Second: A family in the 2^nd class AC compartment on the Mumbai-Goa night train requests the tc to allow them to stay even though they are unreserved and should be getting off. There's an emergency, they plead. So, he suggests, would they like to be wait-listed so at least they have a legitimate reason to stay where they are? Of course, they agree. I was witness to this conversation. They spent the night squatting near the sink. Come morning, tc comes back with the tickets and tell them they have to pay 'x' amount for the journey. No bribe, mind you, he's giving them the receipt. Their logic: What? We didn't use any berth, we didn't sleep, why should we pay? Because you traveled the distance, he tells them. Nah, they retort. Do what you want, we're not paying. Who loses? The government. You and I, too.

Third: A Cathay Pacific Dubai-Mumbai flight was delayed. No one knew why. The first class passengers sitting near us in the waiting area cribbed loud and clear so all of us knew they should have been segregated. The ground staff did their best to make them comfortable, gave them goodies us lesser mortals weren't entitled to, but no jee no, they were going to complain to the media, the consumer court, the President, God... unless they were given a refund right there, right then, ok? Does ground staff warn flying crew about troublemakers?

My lesson: human nature doesn't change with status or income.

at the general store

My neighbourhood in North Central Mumbai is crowded. Most people have lived here for at least three generations and shop-keepers know many of their customers since childhood days. The owner of the small 'general store' opposite my building sells bindis, bangles, greeting cards, and nowadays, the 'charge' for mobile phones. He always took the money after the 'charge' sms was received by me, so I was surprised when, one day, he asked me for the cash in advance. Then he told me why: another customer, long known to him, asked him to charge her mobile for a large amount (anything more than 1000 rupees is a large amount hereabout).He did. But she said she wasn't paying because she'd 'won' some talk time from the company. She showed him an sms which indicated that she was one of the lucky few who had been randomly selected for such-n-such scheme. Naively, she had approached him; he had trustingly, as always, provided the service. They tried to call the number, without success. Finally a police complaint was lodged. The cops told him he wasn't the first to get thus cheated. When people behind the bench ask for an advance, there's always a story.... just ask for it.

Your Staff Stole My Mobile Phone

It was the end of a long and tiring shift at the hospital and I was returning home after ten hours of work when a colleague paged me. “There's a woman in my Medical Records office accusing my staff of having stolen her mobile phone. She's disturbing us, I want you here now.” Customer Service is supposed to solve all problems!! My reaching there didn't make matters better. The woman was screeching: “I left it right here. I turned around to fill the form and there was no one else around me, and when I turned back, the phone was gone. Your staff here is responsible. One of them is the culprit. I’m going to the cops now and I don't want anyone to leave this room until they are searched.” Our soothing tones and 'now-now-there-there' didn't help. Minutes later, our six feet by four Security supervisor came by with his sullen looking female guard with him. “Problem?” he growled, ex-military style. A man of few words and fewer expressions. Bluntly he said, “Mobile phone? You had? Sure? You didn't leave it at home? Certain? If you feel it's been stolen, by all means file a police complaint. Let them do their inquiry.” There was a sudden calming-down effect, specially when I quietly pointed out to the notice that said that was a public area and all visitors were responsible for their own belongings. The woman said she'd check and get back to us.

When we left, our staff, most of whom had served the company for over twenty years, heaved a sigh of relief. I was raw then; I learned a lesson. When someone is hysterical, being sweety-sweet isn't always the best way to tackle him or her. Of course, that philosophy also got me into trouble... but of that some other time.

the low IQ types.

Male models and women in customer service (even if they happen to be post-graduates or writers) are supposed to be intelligence challenged. Example: two women, quite obviously well educated, or so their accents and vocabulary seemed to indicate, asked me, as I looked up from my Hospitality Desk, where in Panaji Goa was. I tried to explain, using the map on the wall behind me, that Goa was a state and Panaji its capital. Bluntly, one of them told the other to not pay attention to someone who was wasting their time. I did shut up, but quietly wrote about it in my column. In those days, my photograph went alongside the text: it was published two days later, and the ladies saw and read the piece. To their credit, they immediately came, apologized sheepishly and asked me more questions which I happily answered. "How come," they asked as a parting shot, "You write?" Quite often, my writer friends asked me the opposite: "How come you work in a hotel?"
Later, when I worked in a hospital, ... ah of that some other time. 

The Smile and The Tone.

Colleagues have told me umpteen number of times that my job was to look pretty and smile. I never protested, but added on that I have to do that and keep a sweet controlled tone even when I knew the customer was trying to evade payment of a bill. Example: a lady once came to me and accused the cardiac surgeon who had operated upon her husband of asking her for 'black' money. Rs 40000, she said. That hospital was squeaky clean about money matters and so was the surgeon she mentioned. I reached out for the phone to ask the surgeon about it. Suddenly, she changed track and said, "Not him, actually the cardiologist is the one who's asking for the money. Says he won't give a discharge unless I pay up." Ok, I said, let me check with him. "Check later," she said and hurriedly departed. I did. This lady's husband, the patient, was admitted under surgeon I. When that surgeon was out of town, the patient took seriously ill and an emergency surgery had to be performed. She was short of funds. Surgeon II, who took over the case, did a highly risky (and successful, may I add) procedure and had signed an undertaking based on the woman's promise that the amount would be paid for before discharge. The kind, elderly cardiologist had reminded her about it because Surgeon II found it awkward to do so.
I was annoyed with her, but I smiled as I explained, whilst she squirmed. Next post, another example. Ciao.

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