The art of service

Service.
Some people seem to think that it's a dirty word, somehow demeaning or beneath their perceived status in life.
Last week I had two very different experiences of service, and they affected me in very different ways.
On Monday I stopped for petrol on the way to work.  After paying, I returned to my car and found the nice young forecourt attendant had washed my windscreen for me.  I thanked him with a smile and got into my car.  Unfortunately our car has an intermittent fault with the immobiliser - it sometimes refuses to start if you switch it off and then try to start the car again in short succession (as at a petrol station).  The car wouldn't start. The forecourt was empty, and I asked the attendant if he would help me to push the car to the side, as it needs to be left for about 20 minutes before it will go again.  He is a young man, early twenties at the very most, and I am in my mid forties (dressed for business in high heels and a smart skirt).  He refused to help me as "it is an ACC risk and I might hurt my back".  So he left me to push the car on my own... and try to steer it as well.  The forecourt has a slight bump in it, so that fuel spills run toward the centre rather than onto the road, and try as I might, I could not get the car over the bump.  The forecourt was still deserted, and there was nobody to help me.  There was no point ringing the AA because they could not fix the problem - it  just needed time.  The forecourt attendant and the cashier just stood in the doorway to the shop and watched me struggle.
I gave up and locked the car, there in the middle of the forecourt.  I rang my husband, who walked from our house, collected the keys from me at work and drove the car home. He tried to ring the petrol station for an explanation of why I was left without any help, but the cashier lied to him (told him that the forecourt had been too busy for anyone to help me) and hung up.
I got to work late (I had had to walk there), frustrated and angry at the way I had been treated.
I won't be using that petrol station again, and on hearing my story, neither will a friend of mine whose fleet of vehicles usually spends $12000 a week there.
On Tuesday I flew to Auckland on business, and stayed at a hotel there near the airport.  The service there was impeccable.  Every single staff member I met greeted me, looking me in the eye, and was courteous.  They seemed to anticipate the needs of our group and nothing seemed to be too much trouble.  The hotel was very busy, but nobody seemed rushed, nothing was hurried and every little detail was taken care of.  Needless to say, I didn't ask them to push my car for me (!) but I got the feeling that if I had then it would have been done instantly, and probably valeted before it was returned to me.  I left a note for my housekeeping staff, thanking them for the care they had taken in making my room comfortable and clean each day, and I made sure that I thanked the front of house staff as I checked out, asking that my compliments be passed to the duty manager for the courteous attitude of all the staff.  The receptionist beamed as I spoke with her, and stood straighter behind her desk.
I left the hotel feeling refreshed (even after 3 long days of brainwork) and relaxed.
I would stay there again in an instant if I need to overnight in Auckland.

The level of service we give others is a true advert of ourselves and our philosophy in life.  Going the extra mile for somebody is one of the highest forms of caring we can do on a daily basis.  It shows a sensitivity to their needs and lets them know that they are important and valued.
The flipside of that is that people want to be around you if you show this level of attention to them, and they are inspired to do the same for you.  This is the kind of world I want to live in.  It just seems to be a better place.... and it all starts with how I treat other people.

Home and away

Truthfully, away from home right now.
School camp for 3 days last week, then a 540 Km drive on Sunday to photograph the jetsprints, and now a 3 day conference in Auckland requiring a 5am start on Tuesday morning.
The good news is that I caught up with an old friend from my former school and we had a great evening together catching up on chat and gossip; and this morning I have had a gorgeous breakfast at the hotel.
Fresh fruit in abundance, beautifully scrambled eggs and hot tea... I've eaten so much that I might need a nap now before I start work! 

A challenging day today with the first tutorials for our first paper towards my Masters... yippee!!!

Back to normality!

I've just spent three days camping at school - no, not report writing season, but whole school camp.  I've never been in a school that does anything quite like this, and this year's was particularly successful.
We begin on Wednesday, at the end of normal school hours.  The younger students (5 - 7 year olds) go home on the bus, and the fun begins.  We pitch our tents (with some help for 8 and 9 year olds from an army of willing parents) which can take some time, and then have dinner together.  The extra adult tent-pitchers go home, and our senior students take over. They lead team building games for an hour or so - they learnt them at last week's leadership camp with our cluster schools - and then we have a twilight swim.
A game of spotlight goes down well once it is properly dark, and we finish our evening with warm milo and a cookie, all enjoyed while we're having a story.
Our senior students (9- 12 year olds) head off to bed down on our front paddock, and the junior students enjoy the luxury of large tents to small groups... a far cry from the following night, I assure you.
Thursday is a day for special projects.  We are joined by all the other students, so we have the whole school working together.  This year we are investigating the ideas that "everyone in a relationship has responsibilities" and "everyone is valuable - we just have to discover how".  As part of this we spent the day doing school beautification projects... being responsible for the environment of our learning relationship, and finding out that some people have hidden talents.  We built a giant sandpit, removed an old plum tree (no longer fruiting), painted our planters with cheerful patterns, weeded flower beds, planted native trees, designed and painted murals on our bounce boards and did a whole lot of sweeping and tidying.
We shared the results of our labours with our whanau (families) at a barbeque that evening before enjoying a dip in our pool, and then campfire singing.  A total fire ban means we got the campfire songs, but not the campfire... but smores taste just as good if you make them in a microwave!
We all slept well that night - even our youngest students who are enjoying their first taste of camping.  The junior tents are full to bursting tonight, but they don't seem to mind!  Last year we had a five year old starting school on the day of camp, so she stayed over in a tent that night... what an introduction to life at our school!
Friday is much quieter - we view the photos that have been taken while adult helpers move through the tents one by one, helping junior students pack their gear away.  Seniors are left to deal with their own, and then they strike their tents.  By midday school is looking normal again, apart from the mountain of gear that we squeeze into the school bus along with the remaining children.  By 1pm the staff are left in peace to finish tidying, and organising their rooms for Monday morning.
Phew!  Tiring, certainly.  Worthwhile?  Definitely!!  Our children have been at school for only four weeks of this school year, and now feel much more connected to each other, to other year groups in school, to our staff, and to their learning environment.  We have built teams, achieved things that we can look at every day for the rest of the year and think "wow - we built/painted/planted that!"
Powerful, real-life learning.
Who could ask for more?!