Service is Not the Main Thing
I am greeted with utmost kindness as I am placed in a wheelchair and lifted through a lift to the door on the right side of the airplane. For the first time, I feel uncertain and vulnerable on a plane due to the unusual situation of not being able to stand on both legs. I make my way gingerly through the small kitchen area to my seat at 4C. I had arranged over the phone with Trans Avia to sit in the front row so I could keep my broken ankle elevated. “No need to pay,” the customer service representative assured me. Before takeoff, I ask a flight attendant, “There’s a note on the passenger list that I’m allowed to sit in row 1 to keep my foot elevated. Is that still possible once the plane reaches cruising altitude?” “I will inform you and take care of it,” the attendant promises. So far, I haven’t seen the purser.
Old Acquaintance
Then I hear over the intercom that the secretive purser is someone I remember from the Guidor Guiding training. Back then, she was also a purser with Trans Avia. I can vividly recall that we once slept behind a desk at a travel agency in London. Together with her boyfriend, the travel agent, we had vague plans to set something up for incoming tourism. Just before takeoff, I spot the old acquaintance. Her grown-out dyed red hair wouldn’t have passed the test of approval back in the day. During the service, the moment arrives when she can no longer hide from me, and I ask, “Ramona (a made-up name), don’t you recognize me anymore?”
Ignoring is Deadly
“Oh yes, wasn’t it Annelies?” she inquires, her gaze fixed on the cup-a-soup bowl as she pours in hot water. Instead of asking me a question, I get an entire story: “Well, I’ve quit guiding and organized cruises all over the world with Tros, including Antarctica.” And my seat in the front row? That gets ignored. The service is stressful and seemingly friendly, as if they’re all just floating in their own bubbles. As I grab my crutches at departure and try to keep my balance in the narrow aisle, carrying a six-kilo backpack, the cabin crew watches blankly. The captain, just coming out of the cockpit, asks in surprise, “Shouldn’t I help you?”
Heartfelt Kindness that Melts Ice
During the time I found myself on the other end of the spectrum, we were trained by KLM that safety and personal attention were top priorities. For most of us, that was second nature. Back on Dutch soil, a concerned ground steward swiftly rolls me in a wheelchair to my friend Anja. What a joy! She’s waiting in the arrivals hall, beaming with a red heart-shaped balloon. We embrace warmly, and as we enjoy a Starbucks soyachino, I feel the icy feelings from the previous flight melt away. I’ve managed to let go of the unpleasant experience after writing a complaint.
A Warm Bath
Then I transition from one warm bath to another. Close friends and family give me the boost I need to forget the pain that occasionally flares up. The service at various places in the Netherlands is outstanding. This little trip gives me the feeling of being as rich as a king or queen. For instance, at the Koning van Denemarken in Rhenen, I can sink into a lounge chair with my leg up, and they place a large bag of ice on it. At Stadscafé Blij in Zwolle, I have to go up and down dozens of stairs to reach the toilet. In no time, they guide me through the artist’s entrance. As terrible as the service from Trans Avia was on the way there, it’s excellent on the return journey. Immediately, I am assigned the entire front row, enjoy genuine interest, and have cooling ice. After the flight, I wrote a compliment this time.
Genuine Service
I also experience heartfelt service in Portugal. For example, in the private hospital in Alvor, a nurse ensures that we can have coffee in the cafeteria while awaiting the orthopedic surgeon. She swiftly wheels me to a comforting spot and comes back to pick us up. My heart skipped a beat. It is enlightening for me to also fully receive while enjoying providing services. The little attentions coming my way in various forms soften my temporary disability. Genuine service and attention are felt; it isn’t about a learned trick, a form, or a clever quip, but it comes from the heart. What you share multiplies and returns to you in many forms.
Reflect on both positive and negative experiences in service. What was the reason for that? How do you feel when you give or receive?
