Last month, I found myself jetting back to Switzerland to take care of family matters. In just six brief days, I had the chance to reacquaint myself with Switzerland's approach to customer service, a world apart from what I've grown used to in Japan.
While Japan spoils you with customer service akin to royal treatment, Switzerland prefers more of a ‘meh’ approach. Here’s a few examples:
Fondue Night and the Battle of the Bread
On one of the evenings, my brother decided to take me to a restaurant in Basel that specialises in fondue and raclette - a cheese paradise! Now, as a Swiss native fondue is sacred, typically consumed in your coziest pyjamas at home.
A restaurant fondue was a novelty for me, and the restaurant came highly recommended by my brother, who had eaten there before with friends.
So, I felt quite excited about the new experience…until the waiter joined the fray.
Cooler than the Alps, he greeted us with the warmth of a glacier. Undeterred, we ordered drinks and the legendary fondue. But when my brother requested bread and butter, to start us off with, this didn’t go down well with the waiter.
‘Why would you need extra bread when the fondue comes with bread?’ he implored, eyebrows raised, as if we had just suggested sprinkling chocolate on raclette.
My brother, ever the diplomat explained that bread and butter were served last time, and he fancied a little something to nibble on before the cheesy feast.
Truth be told, it wouldn’t have been my first choice for a starter, but that’s entirely beside the point.
‘But the fondue is heavy enough without butter!’ the waiter declared, sounding like my doctor reprimanding me for my high choletesterol levels.
My brother calmly reminded him that bread and butter were served last time he was there, a statement met with an avalanche of disdain.
‘Well, if that’s what you really want, I’ll bring you bread and butter, though I don’t recommend it.’
Ultimately, after much grumbling and reluctant shuffling, he brought the bread and butter - but not without ensuring we knew he disapproved.
Bravo, Switzerland, for elevating rudeness into an art form!
To Tip or Not to Tip
The next evening brought a new adventure: sluggish serviceat another restaurant. The waitress mastered the ‘I’ll pretend not to see you’ routine, earning zero points for effort. My brother, the seasoned Swiss tipper, declared she wouldn’t see a single cent from him.
Which made me wonder: Why even tip in the first place, given that there is a 10% service charge included in the price you pay?
Fun fact: Switzerland officially abolished tipping about five decades ago. I’m just about old enough to remember the time when tipping was not only commonplace in my home country, but indeed expected, as it was relied upon to supplement low wages. But in 1974, it was abolished through a collective labour agreemen in the hospitality industry, which ensured that service charges were included in the published price, thus guaranteeing stable and adequate salaries for employees.
Imagine a land where service charges are included, and tipping is optional. Revolutionary, right? But humans love complicating simplicity. Within a few years, tipping snuck back in as an unofficial reward for a smile or stellar service - or punishment for its absence.
After almost 30 years in Japan, where tipping is as foreign as sushi with cheese, I chuckled at my brother’s passive-aggressive ‘no tip’ statement. In Switzerland, tipping has morphed into a reward system; in Japan, great service is expected. So much so that cases of customers verbally (and sometimes even physically) abusing service personnel, for not providing the expected level of service, are on the rise. It’s a different world.
Hotel Checkout and the Case of the Phantom Meal
Fast forward to checkout day. When the receptionist presented the bill, I discovered a rogue charge of around EUR 50 for a meal at the hotel restaurant - a restaurant I didn’t even know existed, let alone having stepped into.
The receptionist, unfazed, investigated the matter by calling one of her colleagues, to check whether a receipt with my signature was on file. Which, of course, turned out not to be the case.
Upon receiving that confirmation, she removed the charge, casually stating, ‘It was wrongly added. I’ll remove it.’
No apology. No bowing. Just efficiency as cold as the Alps. Had this been Japan, there would have been profuse apologies, a synchronised bowing routine, and possibly a heartfelt poem expressing regret.
Don’t get me wrong: We are all human, and we all make mistakes, and I’m a very forgiving person. But a simple ‘Sorry’ would sometimes work wonders.
Airport Retail Therapy under Suspicion
With a heavy heart (and lighter wallet - courtesy of a weakened Japanese currency), I ventured into Zurich Airport’s duty-free shop a few hours later, for some retail therapy.
It’s customary for me on visits to Switzerland to grab the maximum number of Swiss Grappa bottles that I’m allowed to bring into Japan, so this time was no different.
I put them into the basket, strolled over to the self-checkout terminal and proceeded to carefully slide the bottle sleeves over my precious purchase and placing them one by one in the shopping bag I had purchased. As I was doing so, I was interrupted by a booming voice beside me: ‘Do you want to pay?’ The implication? I might just pocket the goods and stroll off. Swiss hospitality strikes again!
To add insult to injury, the employee snatched my boarding pass, scanned it, and completed the transaction with the speed of someone who thought I wasn’t capable of basic motor skills. Efficiency? Sure. Charm? Not so much.
Business Class Dictatorship
Still reeling from the rude shopping experience, I was grateful for having had the foresight to pay for an upgrade for my return journey (still somewhat traumatised from an almost 15-hour ordeal in economy class less than a week earlier).
What could be nicer than spending 13 hours in blissful business-class comfort with top class service, right? But fate intervened in the shape of a hyper-efficient flight attendant, who didn’t seem to have been blessed with the ‘patience’ gene.
Before I had even taken my seat, he had practically teleported my jacket into the closet
Granted, our departure was slightly delayed due to the late arrival, but no reason to rush well-paying passengers like that.
And no sooner had I settled into my comfy seat, sipping a glass of champagne before take-off, than he demanded to collect my choice of breakfast - served more than ten hours later. What was the rush?
When it was time for lunch, he rattled off pre-meal drink suggestions before I could even open the menu and THINK - let alone put on my reading glasses.
I half-expected him to strap me into my seatbeltand dictate my choices for dinner. ‘You’ll have the chicken and the chardonnay (and no bread and cheese before the fondue…). Trust me, it’s for your own good.’ Swiss efficiency may win awards, but charm isn’t its strong suit.
Final Thoughts
Japan has spoilt me with bowing, apologies, and service that borders on psychic. Switzerland? A lovely mix of brusque attitudes, tipping dilemmas, and sometimes questionable customer interactions. But hey, reverse culture shock makes life fun - and gives us plenty to laugh about. Let’s raise a glass (of overpriced Grappa) to cultural quirks!
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