On Customer Service & Patience

Remember this one? Today I thought I’d see how far the legalization of my Dutch BA had gone. I submitted the papers back in September 2009, and we’re now some 8 months later, so I figure I’d give it a try.

My little proof that I have submitted those papers

The papers aren't ready.
The excuse was that they could not reach my university (even though I had given them the personal e-mail address of the person in charge, and I had written him that he could expect a mail from the Lebanese Ministry of Education), and so they sent it back to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs who sent it the Lebanese Embassy in Holland who would then try and contact my university. That is an interesting set-up, I think. Personally I think they’ve lost my file somewhere in the mail, but they’re not willing to admit. We’ll see. The lady at the desk said that it might take quite some time. So I guess that’s another 12 months.

A chrome shark in downtown Beirut

This got me thinking about my Christmas cards. Remember those Christmas cards that never got their destination? I mailed 25 Christmas cards to various destinations in Europe on December 1st , but none, I repeat, none, reached its destination. I mailed Libanpost 3 times in December, I called them in January, was given an e-mail address of an employee (a Miss so-and-so) so I could take up my case with her; but no reply.

So I thought I’d give that one another try as well. I called their Customer Service Desk. The first 11 times I get a lady on the line of Customer Care (ahum) who then transferred me to this machine:

"All our agents are currently busy. Please hold. Your call will be answered shortly, ……… We are sorry to keep you waiting; all our agents are still busy, thank you for holding ……We are sorry to keep you waiting; all our agents are still busy, we will transfer you to the customer’s mailbox."     

And then you’re basically cut off.
The 12th time I told her she’s better not transfer me but listen to my story.

"Well, Miss so-and-so is not here, she’ll be back in two weeks,” and the lady was ready to hang up.
“Miss so-and-so was going to look into this affair in January, and she didn’t, so I don’t think I need to wait for her.”
“But she knows about your case.”
“But she didn’t do anything about it.”
“Oh.”
Silence.
“Can I have your phone number? I will ask our supervisor, Z.O. , to call you back.”
“And if he doesn’t?”
“He will. We are here till 5 o’clock. I will tell him.”

Lots of tourists in downtown. These seem to be for the Middle East or maybe the Near East.

At 16:55 PM no one had called, of course, so I called again. This time I demanded to speak with Mister Z.O. right away. It seems the nastier you get on the phone, the faster your access to the forces higher up gets.

Mr. Z.O., bless his heart,  has only been working for LibanPost for two months, so he’s still full of energy and ideals. Won't last long. On top of that, during the conversation it occurred to him that he’d been to school with the cousin of my husband, which constitutes for some type of wasta. He said he’d investigate the matter, and call me back.

I’m in no hurry, I’ve got patience (that’s how I’m going to reach 91) .