They have clearly undergone some kind of training. “Good morning, Sir. How did you sleep?” “Hello Madame, how was your food?” “Was your room cleaned well?” “Hello Sir, were you cold last night? Would you like a portable heater?”
“Well, yes – that would be great,” is always the right response to that – because you never know and if you do, all the other guests will be clamoring for one too.
Our hotel staff says all of these things and more. It comes off as scripted – it’s clear they wouldn’t know what to say if I responded, “We slept horribly.” They would most likely looked confused and try to leave as quickly as possible.
Still, the training is nice. There’s an owner or manager that understands customer service and is trying to teach the staff something that’s not really in their cultural vernacular.
Of course, the best was when we inquired about the hot water not working at night. The head manager apologized and said that at night, sometime “the boys” flip the switch on the hot water heater when they are shutting things down. We should just dial the front desk at any time and the night guy will turn on the hot water immediately.
Last night when we came back from dinner, Emily stopped to ask if the water heater was still on. The night desk man said, “Yes it is. But if you need it any time, you dial 9. I am here 24 hours a day. It is my duty to handle it 24 hours a day. You just call me. It is my duty.”
You don’t hear that a lot anywhere, let alone in India – especially not with his enthusiasm, which was quite real. I got the feeling that if we called him at midnight, he might be excited that someone called.
As nice as it is to have such strong customer service, there’s a certain loss we’re feeling. In each of the places we’ve stayed until now, there’s been a personal element. Particularly in Region 2, guesthouse owners and managers have been a major part of how we gain insight into the area and culture.
Owners and managers are bridges. They have one foot, if not both planted firmly in their culture – but at least understand through experience the outlooks and mind frame of foreign guests.
Arphan in Jodhpur has been speaking his beautiful English with foreign guests for ten years. He talks about how much he’s learned about the world through them. George in Kerala had a business career and left Kerala for many years. He lived in Calcutta and worked with foreigners and Indian businessmen alike. His son is on a job assignment in Indiana and George has traveled to Chicago.
Kim who runs Hotel Vajra in Kathmandu is a few years younger than us. His father is Tibetan-Nepali who speaks perfect English and his German mother’s first marriage was to an American. His parents speak English with one another and Kim attended the Lincoln American School in Kathmandu followed by a degree in engineering from the University of Colorado. He’s been everywhere and seems to lead a fairly privileged life. Kim is the bridge of bridges. There was no cultural barrier dealing with him – he could explain anything and everything.
Mumbai was different in that Deepak, the hotel owner didn’t really want to talk to guests too much. However, because we had the room right behind the front desk, we were polite and Emily sat in the lobby in the mornings working and drinking her coffee – Deepak was more open and helpful to us than most guests. While he didn’t share any great cultural insights, he helped us find places and gave good advice on transportation options.
Emily enjoyed watching strange interludes in which a man we assume to be his guru would come to the lobby, Deepak would kiss his feet and then they would sit together, side by side in silence. Deepak then handed the man a huge wad of cash after which the man left. This happened every few days. In itself, this was an interesting cultural experience. All we can conclude is “mudumudmudumudumudumudu”.
While you wouldn’t expect as much personal interaction in Region 1, we surprisingly had it.
None can surpass Nicholas, our studio owner in Patmos who was an integral part of our experience and daily enjoyment. He offered us rides, took us to dinner and handed us treats on our balcony. When we left, we had to promise to come back with a baby and not to smoke hashish in Turkey.
Theo, the owner of the Alexis Hotel in Crete was a personable Greek-Canadian a little older than us who grew up in Vancouver. Mainly he was stoned out of his mind. Like any good pot-head, he couldn’t have been friendlier or more entertaining. He was able to tell us anything we wanted to know and even share some of his own insights.
“There are more guns than people on this island…..yeah…..so many….yeah…..ummmmm….some are left from the war….but some are just guns. Ummm…. people hunt, I guess. Some just like them. Yeah….”
George on Rhodes told us why Greece is going to hell in a hand basket and how he can’t make money there anymore right before he gave us an incredible briefing on the best places to eat and go. He had lots of insight to share through his Eeyore prism.
Costas on Samos told me his stories about his life in the Belgian Congo and the community of Greeks who lived and worked there. He shared with me how Samos had changed so much since he was a child and how he doesn’t understand how young Greeks today will survive in an economy that no longer makes sense. He also gave the low-down on Samos wine so that we ordered the good stuff without paying inflated prices.
Dedekonak Pansion in Antalya had an owner whose English was sort of garbled and out of order. As a result, we never caught his name. Emily just refers to him as “Guesthouse Man”. While we could never understand his entire sentences, the meaning somehow came through anyway and we had very nice, if awkward conversations. He shared information about the area, things to do and his history working for Club Med.
Guesthouse Man’s favorite thing was to solve people’s problems through his magnanimity. When people needed a room to stay and his place was full, he “graciously” found them benches or bunks around his old, Ottoman-style guesthouse. If someone needed a bus ticket he “helped” the poor, unfortunate soul by buying them for the person (never mind that he got commission from the bus company).
In Istanbul, although we stayed at a proper, formal hotel – the staff and owner were so incredibly nice that in our two weeks, it felt like we were all good friends. They knew about us, we knew about them. They could explain things about Istanbul and help us find our way to what we needed. One of the waiters, Attila (the best name we’ve encountered this whole trip) asked to be Facebook friends so he could practice his English with us. How can you not want to help someone named Attila?
Of course the best guesthouse operator with the most to offer was in Israel when our friends Ziv and Hila had us in their guest room for two whole weeks. We learned about everything from how to use zatar spice, to when malls open after Shabbat, to how and why hummus can be a meal unto itself.
We have been asked by people at home if we are meeting locals and do we make local connections – or is mostly just other travelers?
While we occasionally meet locals here and there, the owners and managers of the places we’ve stayed have been a huge part of our experience. Most of them are intrigued by our curiosity and questions. They are happy to have someone interested to know about their culture and location. They are even happier to have someone want to hear their opinions and thoughts.
While people like Theo, Rhodes George (who is also an American citizen), and Kim can get to the point or explain things in terms that make complete and utter sense (okay, not always Theo), it’s the ones who are firmly in their own culture with the capacity to share that are fascinating.
We loved talking to Kerala George because he would slowly, methodically and uniquely lay out his thoughts in a way that brought us into his world. He left us string to follow without coming all the way to us.
And then there was Nicholas who needed no interpretation at all with his “Rhodos is like England! Too big! People there, they make sex in the streets!”
Here in Udaipur, we have someone ready to jump where we dial 9 and room service that shows up in minutes. But in a town full of tourists, we miss having a bridge person who can help us see it from a local’s perspective.
Sent from my iPad
