At least one other idiot

AOG, Madrid

Customer service from hell. That is what my friend just told me on the phone. Courtesy of Iberia Airlines. He called, it seems, to confirm that the airline had his and his partner's names correctly, which they didn't since one of them said "Ms" on the ticket. 

The lady on the other side of the phone line, ("for help in English, press one"), after listening to what my friend had said, merely replied -slightly irritated- that if they wanted to do a prebooking change, they had to contact their agent.

So my friend (Taurus) explained to the lady (inept) once again that he merely wanted to confirm that they had their names right. They are flying down to Uruguay for Christmas and New Years (And I so envy them!). 

Again, she didn't listen to a word he said and just told him that if he wanted to prebook his ticket, he had to contact his agent.

Now, if you can read what my friend was saying, and you can read her replies, it is obvious that she wasn't listening to anything he was saying.

How often in life does that happen? I would venture that it happens quite a lot. 

I now that very often I respond to what people say, but somehow, things get "lost in translation" from the time they leave the person's mouth to the time they reach my brain. They say one thing, and I hear another.

It is so easy to get confused. I often tell Madame Mère to listen to what I'm saying, and not to what she thinks I am saying. Sometimes it works, sometimes not. 

However, I too do that. 

I react to what I think is being said and not to what actually is being said. There is obviously a breakdown in communication. We hear, but we just don't listen. 

And sometimes we don't care to listen because we think -and therein lies our error- that we know it all. 

That we are possessors of the truth, or at least, our truth, subjective though it might be, we own nothing but that which lives in our heads, and we care very little for that which lives in the heads of others since, and we all know this to be true, we are always right.

What a great disservice to mankind, as well as to ourselves this is, isn't it? 

The great Civil Rights leader W.E.B. Du Bois wrote, "Herein lies the tragedy of the age: not that men are poor, - all men know something of poverty; not that men are wicked; - who is good? not that men are ignorant, - what is truth? Nay, but that men know so little of men." And he was right. 

We know very little about other people, even those close to us, but we also don't care to know anymore than what we do since we spend precious little time getting to know anybody these days. 

Ever heard of speed-dating? You talk to someone for 5 minutes (or less) and them move on to the next person. Now I ask, can you be your fabulous self in just 5 minutes with 20 different people? 

 No, of course not. "Its a great way to meet new people!" they tell us. But it isn't. Not really. 

I think that beyond a physical impression, little else will be retained by us. And after talking to 20 people, I think most men will agree, who will you go back for? The person who stimulated your brain the most, or the pretty face with the wicked smile and killer ass? 


Exactly. So why pretend?


Facebook, Twitter, online chats, it is all so immediate, so quick. But I dare say that it was always like this. I don't think speed is responsible for our shortcomings. Perhaps it just made a bad situation worse.

And I do wish it were different. Personally speaking, I love it when I meet a like-minded person. 

Why? Because they make you feel like you are not the only idiot in the Universe who thinks like you do. There is, at least, one other idiot like you! 

Isn't it comforting to know that you are not the only one of your species?

And what better than getting to know someone you think you can learn something from? 

Yes, I know that this is not always the case, but it would be folly to think that we can't learn something from everyone we meet in life. However small.
 
"One's mind, once stretched by a new idea, never regains its original dimensions," wrote the American XIX century writer Oliver Wendell Holmes. And how right he was.

In the end, after the lady in question hung up on him, exasperated as she was by all her effort, my friend called back, pressed #2, and spoke to a Spanish speaking operator who fixed his problem. 

There's a lot to be said for manners and good customer service, but that is a post for another day.

On the way to Japan: First Rome, then Tokyo

AOG, Tokyo

My partner found this really good deal to Tokyo with Alitalia a few days ago and, almost on a whim, bought (after some consultation with yours truly and his own brother and some friends) two plane tickets to Japan.

Alitalia is an Italian airline which neither one of us had flown before, and, as a company, it gets really bad publicity in the European press.

A friend of ours told us about the experience a friend of his had with it last August.

Apparently they lost his luggage on the trip to Rome from Caracas, and, for the duration of his stay, he was without any of his things. He did get them back in the end. Once he returned to Venezuela!

It seems they are also on strike these days.

With this in mind, we left my partner's apartment early in the morning for our 11:45 flight to Rome. It is quite funny that a few months ago we discussed where to go in the Summer and we mentioned Rome a few times, before settling on Brasil (see previous posts).

So in the end, we went to both places...almost.

Rome's airport is on the coast, and nowhere near 'la città eterna'.

Funny how some things turn out...right?

The flight itself was not too bad. Although the interior color scheme is identical to that of a plasticky Christmas tree (same odd green hue), the seats were large enough for both of us, and comfortable enough.

The staff were a combination of politeness, aloofness, attitude, and airline industry courtesy. I don't think they can really be faulted for much. We got a small free snack on the way over. And some red orange juice which we both found very strange.

Be that as it may, however, that is more than what I can say for Iberia!

Once in Rome's airport, it was a slightly mad rush to the gate. We kept thinking how British the thing looked. Spartan meets budget cuts and aims for design. If nothing else, it is functional.

And just as expensive to shop in as Britain's (and Spain's) airports.

When we arrived at the gate, it was swarming with (mostly) Japanese tourists. How odd, I thought, that they should fly Alitalia to Europe -we had seen some of them in our flight from Barcelona. A few minutes later, I saw that many of the women were carrying Gucci bags, Prada backpacks, Missoni sweaters....and then it all became clear!

Once on the plane, we discovered the anomaly that our flight from Barcelona had been. The seats were not very comfortable, nor were they spacious. Furthermore, the flight was packed. And I mean packed!

I think there was only one spare seat next to one of the window exits. Next to me there sat a middle aged Japanese couple. Next to my partner, there was a couple around my age. We were both lucky enough that the wife (small Japanese lady in both cases) sat next to each of us. In Spain this normally does not happen.

The husband always sits next to me to ensure I don't disturb or take away his wife (if only they knew!). It appears that in Japan they have other things to think about....or maybe they want me to take and disturb their wife! Who knows.

The first odd thing we noticed about the Japanese (and this has turned out to be first of hundreds...and counting) was the large amount of passengers wearing masks over their faces. Throughout the whole 12 our flight, they never took off the mask. We found it a bit odd. Especially when, at the back of the plane, a small self-service minibar was set up by the crew.

They would come over, pour themselves a drink, and lower their mask for a few seconds to take a sip. Then they returned to their sit and all, I think, slept with their mask on.

After being served dinner at around 5PM our time, we were not to be served anything else until about 1 hour and 45 minutes before landing at Narita Airport, one hour outside Tokyo. To say that I almost starved to death is cutting it short. Oh my God were we ever hungry! There were not enough saltines and crackers to keep us going on that plane!

I slept most of the journey but once I got up from my slumber, I stayed up until we landed. And, unfortunately, everyone's personal TV screen and entertainment center -located on the seatback in front of you- worked, but mine.

I told the crew about it, but they are not engineers. What can they do, other than reset it as many times as you ask them to? Nothing. And no, there was no chance of an upgrade unfortunately.

Finally, after a 14 hour journey from Barcelona (and 3 hours sleep before leaving), we landed in Tokyo.

And Oh! Mah! Gad! the things we were about to see!