Service

It is a common experience for Westerners visiting or living in Africa to have to adjust to the unpredictable nature of customer service standards. One the one hand, it is can be difficult to be "allowed" to do any sort of physical labour for yourself. For example, the cook for the school personally delivers tea to my office everyday, and if I try to take the dirty dishes back myself and any of the staff see me, they will inevitably look horrified and rush to relieve me of my load. Similarly, the students in my Sunday School class won't let me sit on the bench until they brush the dust off it for me first and the staff at the supermarket in town volunteer to push the cart around for us when we're shopping and then carry the bags out to the vehicle. I appreciate the help with heavy loads when needed, but it can get a bit embarrassing when people offer to take even small packages from me, so I won't have to carry them.

However, there are times, when the customer service can leave you shaking your head in bewilderment. Waiters will dutifully take your order, disappear back to the kitchen for some time and then return to let you know that whatever you ordered is "finished." We have learned to ask "Do you have this?" and point to the item on the printed menu before ordering to try to avoid the long wait and then be disappointed. All of us have stories of this nature we could tell, but today, an interaction with the lady at the bakery was pretty classic, and I felt the need to share the story.

Sue and I went into town today to do a bit of grocery shopping. We stopped into the bakery that we frequent a fair bit. The items for sale are a bit hit and miss, but every once in a while I will pick up a pastry "cheese pie" for a snack. I hadn't had one in awhile, so I ordered one. The lady behind the counter asked if I'd like it warmed up--they have a microwave, which is pretty upscale for this part of the world. As I intended to eat it a bit later, I declined the offer of the warm-up.

Well, she gave me this look that said I was nuts to eat it cold and said, "You don't want it warmed up!??!" as if I had no idea what I was talking about. Her accusatory tone made me feel the need to defend myself so I said that I liked them cold. She sort of rolled her eyes, shook her head, wrapped up the pie and the look on her face communicated that she'd be telling another "crazy muzungu" story around the dinner table tonight.

Meanwhile, Sue decided she'd like a pie too, so she ordered one and said that she would like it warmed up. The same lady, who had just served me, looked at Sue and said "You want it warmed up!??!" in a similarly shocked manner. Sue re-stated her wishes and the lady replied, "No power."

We had a good laugh as we left the bakery.

the infamous cheese pie (not heated up)