Considering the Customer Experience

I started Thursday morning, as I do most mornings, by going out to do some work over coffee, and I decided to switch from my normal-and-nearby coffee shop to the Antoninovo Bakery, about a 10-minute-walk away — the only place other than my normal cafe that is anywhere close to me and that also opens at 7 am. Despite the sheen and professionalism of their website, it's a pretty functional place, and very Czech, in that, among the wide array of fresh pastries and breads there, nary a croissant, muffin, or cinnamon roll can be found.

No croissants???

But that's not what I want to write about. 😀

The three women behind the counter at the bakery all exemplified the same strange (to Americans) demeanor I described yesterday. Despite me standing a good five feet away from the counter and obviously still considering all my options, all three of them, in turn, asked with some impatience what I wanted to order, forcing me each time to say, "no, thank you, I'm still looking." That's so strange — surely looking-up-to-make-eye-contact-and-stepping-up-to-the-counter is an international sign that the customer is ready. Whence comes this confusion? Does everybody come to European bakeries already knowing exactly what it is they want?

Breakfast!

More importantly, when I did finally decided and stepped to the counter to order a cappuccino and a kolache — a pastry filled with a Czech cottage cheese — the clerk was, as I expected, impatient and dour. To my eyes, at least. It's clear that the Czechs that came to the bakery took the attitude in stride — they also expected it, but they clearly weren't bothered by it in the least. In their eyes, it's a transactional relationship, and pleasantries aren't necessary.

After working for a bit I left that bakery and walked to the delightful Cafe Živé Kytky, about 30 yards from my building, which only opens at 9 am. The young women working at this cafe could not be more different from those older women at the bakery. Agatha, who was working when I was appeared — maybe 20 years old — has a welcoming smile, laughs as she talks, apologizes freely for confusion that is, more often than not, my fault, and is happy to speak English. The contrast is extreme.

The friendly alternative

When I asked her about why in places like that other bakery so many of the people seem so grim, she laughed that everybody knows about the phenomenon, and it's a common source of discussion, even among Czechs.

If only they opened at 7. And they have croissants!

Indeed, I got in a conversation with Filip yesterday evening about it as well — about why clerks in places like supermarkets here often seem so brusque, cold, and visibly uninterested. He also acknowledged the phenomenon with a smile, and proposed several possible explanations:

1. First, he suggested, I'm a "people person" even in the US, and probably many people in those positions in the US aren't super happy at their jobs as well. In other words, it may not be as pronounced a difference as I believe.
2. Second, he said, the custom of not engaging with strangers here, even on a superficial and commercial level, was bred into the culture during the Communist era, where every possible incentive existed not to stand out, and not to be memorable. People were so universally unhappy in customer-facing positions like this that positivity came off as suspicious. Is that person trying to befriend you for some reason? That can only be a problem. (One wonders how flirting and dating ever happened back then; I find myself smiling at the prospect of various grim and joyless interactions at the "alcohol imbibing stations"). In any event, he said, those lessons are not easily unlearned, and many people, especially of older generations, continue to act as taught. As support for this explanation, he pointed out that the countries of Western Europe — even neighboring countries like Austria — are not known for this grumpiness, whereas places like Hungary, Russia, and Slovakia share it.
3. He proposed another "generational" explanation, suggesting that older people in those jobs may well be disappointed in how their lives have played out, with a corresponding demeanor. Young people like Agatha, he suggested, working as baristas at local cafes, are still enjoying life, still seeing it as full of opportunity and hope. These jobs, for them, are not the end — they are brief stopping points on an exciting journey. The older men and women, working for presumably not a whole lot more money, are no longer so positive.

Whatever the reason, it can be difficult for foreigners. Which is fine — we certainly have no right to demand that their culture be the same as ours, and indeed, discovering and experiencing those cultural differences is a large part of why traveling is so fascinating. I don't mean to be critical. Still, when you're already feeling uncertain about how these interactions are supposed to work — is it ok if I pay with a card for such a little amount? Which one is the 20-crown coin? Is she understanding me when I try, in Czech, to ask for a bag? Oh hell, she's asking me a question, with a line growing behind me, what does she want? — the appearance of impatience on the clerk's face, even if it's absolutely not there in actuality, can be terrifying.

This terror shrinks, over time, as one learns the customs and gets more familiar with the culture — yes, it's ok to use a card, and the 20-crown coin is the golden one, and she's probably just asking if I want the receipt — and, of course, as one develops the language skills to engage comfortably. Not to mention, in reality, of course, it's almost always fine to say, "I'm sorry, unfortunately I don't yet speak Czech, so I don't understand. Can you help me?" (Promiňte, bohužel ještě neumím česky, takže nerozumím. Můžete mi pomoci?"). It's the feeling like you're doing things wrong that can be paralyzing, not that in actuality it's any more difficult here than anywhere else.

Maybe it's changing. Maybe young people like Agatha represent a change in how baristas, bakers, and clerks engage with customers. Maybe newer owners and managers are starting to demand that customer-facing staff work harder to make the customer experience a pleasant one. But for the time being, as we still do need to go to supermarkets, and we do continue to find ourselves in those traditional interactions, this phenomenon remains one of the ways that the foreigner experience can be challenging.