I'm too busy to blog nowadays, so let me just quote a funny column by one of my favourite writers at Kyiv Post, Paul Miazga. It was just put online at 21:45 tonight. The point here is that such situations are not uncommon in Moscow or other Russian cities (although I must say, St Petersburg has a great deal more sophistication in dealing with foreigners; they live and breathe tourists, after all.)
Here is the column in its entirety.
I guess there's very little else to do than laugh at it. That's what people have learned to do both here in Moscow as in Kyiv.
Here is the column in its entirety.
As the old saying goes, if you get good service, you’ll tell 10 people. If you get bad service, you'll tell 100.I swear, just replace Kyiv with Moscow, I'm sure I've been in this situation. Typically the person who answers would be a young employee or a newbie (whether guy or girl) and the person who comes on would be the supervisor.
Despite my reputation for being a real whiner about various service-related issues in Kyiv, I feel compelled to return to this topic due to a series of what can only be described as Kafka-esque situations in Kyiv of late.
Situation #1: The Call
In my work at the Post I'm often calling various bars and restaurants to find out if they serve this item or the next and what the cost of the item is, or, if a sports bar, who's playing and when. Invariably, with few exceptions – despite my often calling so-called English-speaking bars, restaurants and the like – this is what I get:
“Hello. Do you speak English? Yes? Great. I'd like to know if you serve cheesecake."
Thank you. You would like to make a reservation?”
“No, I don't want to make a reservation. I want to know if you serve American cheesecake.”
“I’m sorry. I don't understand. You want to see our menu?
“Cheesecake – is it on the menu? Do you serve it?”
“Just a moment, please.”
New voice comes on. “Hello. Would you like to reserve a table?”
“No! I just want to know if you serve American cheesecake. U vas amerikansky syrny tort yest?”
Rustling sounds, then the first voice comes back on. “You want to reserve a table?”
At this point, I hang up. Everyone in the office stares at my face, which has turned from pink to red to purple. One staff writer asks me where I’m calling, and as it turns out she used to work at said restaurant. She tells me they do have cheesecake.
This is typically how information in English is gathered in Kyiv.
Situation #2: The Refund
This is the kind of stuff that the Slavic student comedy troupe KVN gets so much mileage out of: pathetic customer service.
Want your money back from that cellophane-wrapped, State Customs Service-approved DVD you bought from that big electronics store downtown? Try this on for size:
“Hi. I just bought this DVD in your shop and, though it says it's in English, I just played it at home and it's not. Here's the receipt. I'd like to have my money back.”
“But it should work. It says on the box it's in English.”
“Yes, but I just tried it at home and it's not; it's in Russian. Here's the receipt. Can I just have my money back?"
“But it says it's in English. Look: it says right here on the box, ‘English version 5.1.’”
“I just told you it doesn’t work. Is there somewhere you can play it in your store, so you can see that it's not in English?”
“No, we don't. It says right on the box....”
At this point, hair is normally pulled out at the roots, or it at least withers to gray. Twenty minutes tick away until finally, after a more senior manager appears, the money is refunded.
Things have improved over the years in terms of customer service, but there's still a long way to go, I'm afraid. But at least Ukrainians can laugh at this.
I guess there's very little else to do than laugh at it. That's what people have learned to do both here in Moscow as in Kyiv.
