Corat-coret Pesta Buku: Panas

Don't ask me what crazy notions I had that led to having a date with my not-yet-5-year-old son, Huzaifah to the KL International Book Fair. I thought of the trip as a reward for him - since he has shown more signs of being a responsible brother notwithstanding all the fumble-tumble sessions with Humaidi since he started kindie. At home, as I got him ready for our 'date', it seemed like a good idea. He was in good mood, all smiling, chattering excitedly.

But turned out, it might not be that great of an idea after all...

1. It was extremely hot on that Saturday.
Traffic from Putrajaya to KL was rather smooth, but the queue for parking space in Hentian Putra terminal was exteremely long - it took longer to park than to drive from Putrajaya to KL. Not something that one would welcome under the scorching sun. Especially since Huzaifah kept 'meratib', "Ibu, nak pergi pesta buku", "Ibu, jom pergi pesta buku", "Ibu, cepatlah pergi pesta buku," to which I had to patiently response, "Nanti lepas parking kereta, kita pergilah." Again and again and again...

2. It was extremely crowded that Saturday.
In fact - PWTC was more crowded on Saturday than on Sunday, when I made my solo trip. Or at least, it certainly felt that way. I know, it's only to be expected - what with the lure of good discounts, great bargains, meet-the-fan sessions, various performances (no, not by pop artists - more towards literature/books/comics related stuff) and all.

3. Over-zealous Grolier and (other similar companies) promoters who simply don't understand the word 'no' could really spoil one's moods.
They resort to whatever tactics possible to make sure your child stop at their booth and the parents had no choice but to sit down too. It's just bad luck that I have a five-year-old-son who could not resist normal-shaped mouth-blown balloon, what more bright, shiny, floating balloons of various shapes and designs. And more bad luck that Huzaifah is a fan of Mickey and his friends, making him an even more easy 'prey'. Arghhh!!!

4. There were moments when I felt my own tempers rising...
When Huzaifah said he wanted a Thomas (the Tank Engine) book, he really insisted on finding it, never mind that we had already gotten so many other books for him. We searched for it high and low, but could not find even a single Thomas book. At one stall, he saw the advertisement for a set of Thomas books at the back of an old copy of a British magazine.
"Ibu, ini buku Thomas!" he hurled the magazine at me excitedly.
"Ini bukan buku Thomas, ini iklan saja," I took the magazine and put it back in the box marked 3-for-RM10.
"Ujai nak buku Thomas! Ujai nak buku Thomas!," he grabbed the magazine back.
"Okay, okay, let's look for Thomas book, but this is not a Thomas book, so let's put it back in the box."
He grabbed it again.
I grabbed the magazine one final time, put it back in the box, and dragged him away from the stall.
"Over there, we might find a Thomas book over there, come on, let's go..."
But Huzaifah had already started throwing tantrums.
Wailing, shrieking, almost biting my hand, he struggled to get away from me.
I held his hand tighly and kept walking. Embarrassed but grimly ignored the stares thrown our way by passers-by.
Once or twice another parent would try to calm Huzaifah down too, but to no avail.
I picked him up, put his slippers in one of the plastic bags (the slippers were already thrown on the floor and a woman picked them up and passed them over to me, who was grateful for the help) and carried him as I ascended the escalator to the next floor.
I walked all over the exhibition hall, while carrying him and it was not until he grew confused by all the different booths on the different levels when I dared to put him back on the ground, and he stayed close to me voluntarily.

5. And then, there was the scalding hot tea...
Before we moved on to the exhibition hall across the river, Huzaifah asked for some food and drinks. All the walking and browsing not to mention the shrieking and struggling must had made him hungry. We went queueing for some juice and sandwich (for him) and mineral water (for me). All the make-shift cafes were operated by staff from Riverside Restaurant (if I'm not mistaken), so the price was a bit high. Which is rather disappointing - I would have thought the owner of PWTC could rise to the occasion and open up opportunities for small entrepreneurs to set up F&B stalls during KLIBF, you know, in line with the 1 Malaysia tagline - "people first". If you want to put the people first, (and we all know that the visitors to KLIBF are not sought after by lobbyist unlike visitors during a certain party's General Assembly season and hence could afford the high F&B prices) then the people should be given the choice to buy cheaper F&B from a few competiting providers. Not 'forced' to buy from a single provider that offer food at high price. Overheard were complaints and grumbles on "mahalnya makanan kat sini...", especially from those who looked like they have travelled far to come to the book fair (not locals of Klang Valley who are used to simiar prices at restaurants they frequent) RM3 for nasi lemak kosong or a glass of teh tarik, RM5 for diluted orange juice, RM6 for a plate of cold nasi goreng (which remind me of those selling for RM1.50 at pasar malam). Yes, food was rather expensive...

Anyway, I digressed.
After Huzaifah finished his cheese sandwiches and juice, he asked for more juice. I queued up to get another glass of juice.
Suddenly "PRAANNNGGG!"
One tea pot on the electric tea pot warmer containing teh tarik exploded, shattered to smithereens.
Part of the scalding hot tea spilled over to the customers in line, including yours truly.
I checked on Huzaifah who was standing right next to me and was horrified to see his t-shirt smeared with a large splotch of teh tarik.
I went down, to further inspect if any debris from the broken pot hit him, but alhamdulillah none did. But Huzaifah rubbed on his chest like he was in pain, just like I rubbed on my left hand where part of the hot water spilled.

I remember reading that a cup of hot liquid spilled over a toddler is equivalent to a bucket of hot water being spilled over an adult. Granted, Huzaifah is no longer a toddler, but the pain must be greater for him, the large stain bearing witness that at least a quarter of a cup of hot tea spilled over him.

Not one word of apology was uttered by the girl behind the counter.
Not one word of apology was uttered by the girl who cleaned up the mess in front of the counter, as she picked up the shattered pieces of the tea pot, a mug and all.
Nobody checked on the customer to see if everybody was all right.
Nobody apologized.
No one.

I was so mad that when I paid for Huzaifah's juice, I lashed out at the cashier, "Adik, tadi masa teko pecah, teh panas tu terkena anak akak. Habis basah baju dia. Ni, tengok ni...(pointing at the large darkened splotch) Tapi, tak ada seorang pun minta maaf..."
The cashier was flabbergasted.
"Akak pun terkena air panas juga. Tengok ni tangan akak..." I showed her the back of my left palm which had turned all red due to the hot tea spill.
"Akak tak kisah bayar makanan kat sini mahal, tapi customer jagalah betul-betul... Mana manager kalau nak komplen? Siapa pun tak minta maaf. Tak ada seorang pun minta maaf masa tu. Macam mana ni?"
I knew people were staring.
Peduli!

"Sorry kak. Sorry... Minta maaf..."
The cashier found her voice again.
I saw a well-dressed man emerged from the 'kitchen' and immediately turned my attention to him. Told him what happened and asked him, "Macam mana bila jadi macam tu, tak ada siapa pun yang minta maaf?"
Aren't the staff well-trained to react and response by putting the customers first above all else?
The tea pot might have exploded on its own, an honest-to-goodness accident, but its content had spilled over to some customers - so, can't the staff at least say sorry to the customers?
What is so difficult about that?

If such incident had happened in Japan, the girl behind the counter would immediately said sorry, "Moshi wake arimasen".
And the girl who cleaned up after the mess would also apologized.
Profusely.
Repeatedly.
And they would in fact checked on the customer's safety.
And those who would've gotten even a single spill of the hot tea would be compensated - maybe by an offer of free food or drinks or even more.
Customers always come first.

Yes, I have left Japan 18 months ago, but sometimes, it's incidents like this that made me wish I'm back in Japan...
Duh!