Tourism is a “masala tea”

We sat in the newly-opened restaurant, styling itself on the trendy Indian fast food concept, quick, clean and easy on the purse. My companion wanted a typical vegetarian meal – “the kind of meal they used to serve at Greenlands,” a popular eating place in the austere 1970s for the middleclass.

Born a Sri Lankan, Peter has chosen Australia, where he has now resided for over 35 years, as his country of domicile. He was 16 when he arrived there. The adopted country has been good to him. He holds a government job in the transport sector. A public service career anywhere in the world is not dedicated to building fortunes. Yet, he is comfortable and secure; earning enough to indulge his passion for travel; Europe, South America, Africa, Exotic Asian destinations, the South Seas, Peter has seen the world.

Like to most immigrants to the West, the adopted country has given him an attractive air of assurance, a ‘let us fix it’ spirit, discernible in those living in dynamic societies, open and accepting. “Why is this road flooded or that drain blocked? Why is that driver sounding his horn incessantly or this government department not replying my written inquiry?” These are not hopeless questions or situations to which he is only a passive observer. Something can be done and ought to be done.

There is a huge gap between potential and reality of our tourism. Like the oil under the desert sands, tourism potential cannot be a success story without human ingenuity and application

Unique insights

Although there is no one of his immediate family living in Sri Lanka now, Peter still feels the “pull” of his land of birth. Having no close relatives to visit or sites to see, he returns regularly only to spend his holidays travelling around the country with no particular plan or purpose. In the course of his travels Peter has gained unique insights into the realities of our tourism industry from the perspective of a “guest”.

Clearly, tourism in Sri Lanka is not a success story relative to other destinations. Nature has been generous when bestowing her blessings on this small island. The things that the average visitor to the tropics seeks, the exotic culture, the beaches, the lush greenery, historical sites, are in abundance, and within short distances. Our roads, railway/taxi service, banking and medical facilities may not be up to the standards of advanced countries. Both our infrastructure and other services are erratic and patchy at best, and wont to break down under pressure.

But that weakness or irregularity may be one of the reasons a person travels, to experience something different to the accustomed efficiency and the predictability of his culture. In this day and age, it is really interesting that no one answers the phone at a government department, even at the Ministry of Telecommunication! If the frustrations of a weak system can be overlooked, they may even add to the quaintness of the place, an interesting experience perhaps!

Huge gap

Nevertheless there is a huge gap between potential and reality of our tourism. Like the oil under the desert sands, tourism potential cannot be a success story without human ingenuity and application.

“As I see it, tourism is fundamentally a matter of service and hospitality. Without understanding the idea of service or living the concept of hospitality, there cannot be a successful tourist industry. In many of the large shops I go into there is a kind of shop detective following you about. I never buy from a shop which treats you like a potential thief. Shoplifting is a concern all over the world, although the percentage of those who commit the offence is very small in numbers. In other countries they have more sophisticated surveillance. The crudity of a man following a customer around is unbelievable. How will you react if a friend you visit treats you in that manner, having his servant to follow you about?”

Less than satisfactory

Peter, I gathered, avoided the more expensive five-star type accommodation, preferring the smaller hotels. In Australia such hotels come with good amenities, the guest is assured of a comfortable stay in a clean and secure environment. But Peter’s experiences in the smaller hotels here have been less than satisfactory.

“They were not exactly cheap; some of them were only a couple of thousand rupees less than the so-called five-star hotels. In many of these small tourist hotels you find out that the air conditioner does not function, taps leak, the bathroom is mouldy, the paint peeling and the overall standard of hygiene pretty low. Many a time, I noticed human hair on the bed sheets, maybe from a previous guest.”

Peter was not the type of person to turn a blind eye to such neglect by a service provider.

“Did you not complain?” I inquired

“I did, however soon realised there was a huge cultural problem we confront. You know that maintenance and upkeep is not a strong quality here. It is always somebody else’s job. The managers are told to listen to the complaints of the guests with a smile. They do that, but nothing happens. It has to be reported to somebody else who has to report it to yet another. The owner of the hotel maybe living in Colombo, yet he has to be first told about the hair on the bed sheet!”

He paused: “These hotels reflect something deeply symbolic of the way things operate in the country. In the front of the hotel they may have a neat looking security hut with a uniformed gateman guarding the entrance. The kitchen, which will be in a dingy corner, will be unsanitary. This inconsistency is something nobody wants to grapple with or even think about. It is as if they are playing at being hoteliers, posing off as a serious service provider. They are happy to let the pretence be, call it ‘Paradise Hill’ or some such thing, but in reality everything about the hotel denies its grand name.

“On this practice of adopting grandiose names or making incredible claims, you feel that there is no meaning in the words used. Paradise Restaurant could be just dirty little eatery selling very cheap stuff. ‘Paradise’ could be even a health hazard! Titles like Hill Top, Beach View, Ideal Resort and Gourmet Food are used so meaninglessly. Hill Top could be in a valley, but it does not seem to matter.”

Service providers

It is difficult to conceive of a hospitality industry manned predominantly by persons who have never or rarely been service receivers. These service providers have no experience in the role of a service receiver in any form. For example, for the waiter serving your order at the table it is only a convenient livelihood, with no real understanding of his role, with no pride in his function. He has never been waited upon and has no concept of receiving a good service. It was an AC room the hotel advertised. Yet, when the guest points out that the AC is malfunctioning, in the mind of the hotel odd-job man he is just being fussy, what is wrong with a fan?

“I have eaten at many restaurants, particularly at those that operate near tourist sites. All they want is your money. They don’t care whether you enjoyed the meal or whether you were satisfied with the service. Sadly, I have not come across any restaurant that took genuine pride in their food or the quality of their service. In some restaurants the food was good, or let us say passable. But that was rare and again not consistently good.

“Tourism now is not the old case of a rich European booking in at a five star hotel and then being driven around by a uniformed chauffeur with a desperate looking ‘tourist guide’ for ‘company’. Today’s tourist wants a much bigger experience, eat at small restaurants, explore the local scene, do something physical like a trek in the jungles, take a bicycle ride, a train journey, sports , nightlife and so on. Most prefer to be left alone to enjoy these things. But that is not possible in Sri Lanka. The harassment of the visitor, by the parasitic element feeding off him such as the beach boys, touts, village toughs, tuk-tuk drivers, trinket sellers and so on is unbelievable.”

Apparent failure

We are in a region of the world which is competing hard for the tourist dollar. When we look at comparable destinations like Thailand, Malaysia or even the Maldives the degree of our failure becomes apparent. Thailand alone attracted something like 26 million visitors last year.

A hidebound approach, hackneyed ideas, combined with the prevailing ‘missing the wood for the trees’ mentality of the industry is not a recipe for success in the highly-competitive and dynamic hospitality industry. The problems facing the industry are complex and deep-rooted. It is a challenge requiring leadership of the highest calibre, as shown repeatedly in our country, a very rare commodity!

“Another problem which no one seems to care about is the unavailability of clean toilets in most places. If you want a fairly decent toilet, the only recourse is to drive into a five star hotel. In every other place I will not consider the available facilities as civilised. I think if the country is serious about its hospitality industry, personal habits and public hygiene must become part of the school curriculum. Today we have graduates whose toilet habits are dreadful.”

Having partaken our vegetarian meal, we decided to wash it down with a masala tea, price Rs. 125. But here we hit a problem. Peter follows a gluten free diet which keeps him off dairy food. He asked the waiter whether he could have his tea without the milk. The waiter looked as if struck by thunder.

"We are in a region of the world which is competing hard for the tourist dollar. When we look at comparable destinations like Thailand, Malaysia or even the Maldives the degree of our failure becomes apparent. Thailand alone attracted something like 26 million visitors last year. A hidebound approach, hackneyed ideas, combined with the prevailing ‘missing the wood for the trees’ mentality of the industry is not a recipe for success in the highly-competitive and dynamic hospitality industry. The problems facing the industry are complex and deep-rooted. It is a challenge requiring leadership of the highest calibre, as shown repeatedly in our country, a very rare commodity!"

“Masala tea is made with milk, sir,” he said, giving Peter the kind of look you may reserve for a retarded child. But Peter simply would not have the milk. This resulted in the waiter having a quiet conference with the other waiters and then all of them heading towards the kitchen. A little later the manager appeared with another man who I believed was a cook, perhaps the tea maker.

“Why don’t you make the tea with the usual spices, but without the milk, as the customer wants?” I suggested, being more familiar with the language. “But that is not a masala tea,” he remonstrated. “Does not matter what you call it. Just make the tea without the milk,” I insisted. They walked back to the kitchen rather confused and palpably unhappy. Perhaps they could not conceive of a customer refusing the precious milk in the tea while still agreeing to pay the appointed Rs. 125 for the “masala tea”!

Peter quite enjoyed his spicy black tea. I noticed that a film of cream had formed like a skin on my tea, as happens with milk when boiled. Next time at this restaurant it will be a “masala tea” without the milk, for me too.