Week VI - Day 4

Customer Service - Not!

I hate to think of myself as the bratty American who tries to get her way everywhere she goes BUT...there is a level of customer that should simply follow the Golden Rule. You know, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." I've been struggling to find people who consistently follow said rule in Juba. 

When we first arrived, Michael's nephew Aganj and his wife Achut brought us some grilled chicken. The chicken reminded me of my own cooking and I only wanted more. It had been my goal to get more of tender goodness when I saw Achut and Aganj but, every time I thought about it, it was late at night and I couldn't ask them to go get it for me. Finally, I was able to kill the craving and go get the stuff myself.

Accompanied by Achut, Achuil, and another young lady, I struck out to get me some chicken. We walked the half mile up the road; dodged the passing lorries and boda-bodas finally making it to Samisuma. I could smell yard bird cooking up and my mouth began to water. I couldn't wait to get my hands on some chicken, squeeze some lime juice on it, and let it melt in my mouth. 

Happy to have reached the shop, I found myself holding back drool. Achuil was four months pregnant out of breath, and Achut was just as happy as can be (she reminds me of the 21-year old Saree). As soon as we arrived, the drama began. 

There was no one visibly present to take our order and from a corner just behind the area where food was prepared for take away, a young man barked out "fath" which sounds more like "fathah". Basically, it's a word meaning "open" or "come in" however, the way he said it and the look on his face was saying something else. Instead of feeling welcome to buy some juicy chicken, I felt unwanted and of course, I did not make matters any better by giving off just as much attitude as he was. 

I didn't even try to speak a different language; I just wanted to get some chicken and all of my questions were in English because I had my niece (Achuil) and two other ladies with me who could help. But the young man continued to speak to us in a way that was rude. So, I asked my Achuil to ask him if he was okay and his response to her, with the same nasty attitude, was that he didn't speak English! "Well damn!" I thought to myself. "Since when did one have to speak the same language with someone else in order to understand that a person was in a food shop to buy food?" That was the American and Little Cora in me coming out. 

Achuil continued to put our order in using Arabic with the guy and he continued to give attitude. Feeling a bit pissed off, I asked Achuil to ask him if he treated all his customers that way or was it because we were women. She couldn't bring herself to ask such a question and that made me even more frustrated. I thought to myself, "Women here sure do put up with some petty BS service...I couldn't do it."

As the bag was being put together, I asked how much we owed him for the food. And again, he answered with a nasty attitude and that was it for me. I put the bag down and said, "I don't have to put up with this crap! I'm spending my money here so the least you can do is greet me properly and welcome me to the shop that is clearly not yours!" And then I extended my hand and greeted him in Arabic and told him thank you and I'd see him tomorrow with my husband.

Looking sheepish, he took the money and we walked out. I knew he understood that! I complained the entire walk back and let the ladies know that we didn't have to take that type of attitude and poor service from anyone...but I wanted my chicken so badly that I did that day. The ladies agreed that he was being rude and explained to Michael what had happened when we got back to the hotel. Michael agreed to go back with me the next day just to see if I was over-exaggerating and being a bratty American. I assured him that I was not and that he would see for himself soon. In the meantime, we devoured the chicken and it was even tastier than the first time we had it.