Traveling within Italy is a special test of patience. Admittedly, since my first travels there in 2001 to now, Trenitalia has stepped up its game considerably; breakdowns, delays, and late departures are less and less frequent on regional, intercity, and high-speed trains alike. What with the advent first of the high-speed Frecce (rossa, bianca, and argento) and next of the concurrent Italo high-speed train line connecting major points of interest, one can get almost anywhere within two to four hours. But logistical problems persist, more frequently among users of these new services than in the administration of the services themselves.
Traveling out of Italy is no exception. As I was reminded Monday flying back to North America for a conference, Italians - especially older Italians - continue to struggle as Italy attempts to update its approach to domestic and international travel, not always successfully.
To start: here a few facts about airline management in Italy. Alitalia, Italy's largest airline carrier, was founded as Linee Aeree Italiane in 1946. Although it enjoyed an illustrious reputation for many years, it also suffered consistent financial problems and labour disruption that led to its bankruptcy in 2008. After many failed attempts at making good of government assistance, it was liquidised and partially purchased, that year, by the private Compagnia Aerea Italiana. A band of Berlusconi's acquaintances, they preserved the Alitalia name and the "Italianness" of its brand, but made distinct changes to the Alitalia's operation, at the expense, of course, of Italian taxpayers. Most notably, in 2009, they sold 25% of Alitalia's shares to AirFrance-KLM, consistent with "old Alitalia's" belonging to the SkyTeam partnership since 2001.
It bears mentioning that the lion's share of Alitalia's problems purportedly stemmed from its treatment of pilots and crew members, who often lamented unfair or disproportionate retribution. Labour squabbles of this kind have all but become synonymous with Italian workforce practices across the field - in the air, on the ground, and mostly in government subsidised federal entities. Between 2004 and 2010, Alitalia witnessed a number of (perhaps fundamentally ineffective) strikes. By the end of 2013, it again sat on the brink of bankruptcy, and announced the implementation of a 500 million euro rescue package.
Of course, since very few official policies are made transparent in Italy, Alitalia's use of this new 500 million euro rescue package remains a mystery to Italian people, who see no material manifestations of it at Alitalia and SkyTeam counters at airports. On Monday at Peretola, I saw no agent on stand-by at the automatic check-in machines, only two on duty at the check-in counters, and no one directing traffic between them. Person-to-person check-in was made unavailable, as travelers were instructed to print their own boarding passes and make their way only then to check-in counters for baggage drop-off, where their luggage - but not their boarding gate - was labeled. At Rome Fiumicino last summer, I waited an hour in line at the passport check point because too few kiosks were open to service the passengers of three contemporaneously landed flights pouring in, many of whom, not knowing any better and undirected by airport staff, wound up in the wrong line, slowing the process for everyone. Things are slightly more organised at Milan Malpensa, but customer service remains outside the list of priorities even there; information is provided in a clear and coherent way, but only to anyone seasoned enough to know where to look for and find it.
It is very possible that Alitalia personnel is bearing the brunt of budget cuts; it would not, after all, be the first time they did. It's just as likely that what I saw at Peretola spoke to a renewal and attempted upgrade of airport management practices across the board in Italy and alongside the digitalisation of daily customs more generally. In theory, check-in machines were installed there to replace human bodies with the same basic function; it seems logical that the remaining human bodies present should offer services not covered by the automatic machines. Likewise, and catering to an at least minimally educated population, clear signalisation should do just as well as a human body at directing airport traffic and ensuring the proper following of procedure. What is not being accounted for in either case, however, is the learning curve necessary to make the switch from old to new practices in a country that in many ways is stuck in the 1990s.
In other words, these airport "upgrades," not yet universal, simply don't work in Italy because many Italians lack the cultural preparation to receive them, and because visitors to Italy, already in unfamiliar territory, are unrealistically expected to understand them without assistance.
Fundamentally and historically, Italian culture is based on human interaction "outside the lines." When eating at a restaurant, it is often very much possible to order something not on the menu by asking for it explicitly, or being brought a plate of the chef's personal recommendation. Automatic tellers of any kind are few and far between in most Italian cities, and even in places where they are more available, people often prefer to stand in line and be serviced than to service themselves. As my boyfriend put it, Italians as a people are accustomed to presenting themselves money (or, in the case of airports, passport) in hand and receiving the service they need. Fai da te (do it yourself) is only a very slowly growing concept in Italian cities -- it doesn't even exist outside of them. This reliance on human interaction might owe in part to the fact that many services rendered in Italy are "outside the lines," too -- illegal, under the table, or otherwise illegitimate. No matter, asking the average Italian to read his way to the right automatic check-in teller at the airport, print his boarding pass, and queue up in the right line - and not in the open space reserved to SkyPlus passengers - without trying to cut in front of those who got there before him is, I won't say an impossible feat, but a very deliberate summoning of a headache. All the more so when dealing with an older generation of Italians who will and do block up automatic check-in machines for half an hour at a time because they don't know how to navigate the interface and can't find anyone around to help them do it.
That is not to say that the situation can never change, that Alitalia must forever resort to catering to a population that is unaccustomed to progress and not yet prepared to deal with it. Italians of my generation, cell phone users since the age of 16 or 18 years old in most cases, navigate these and other new policies with ease and often help those who struggle to do the same. But there are other solutions to the problem of this lack of clear communication. A change in marketing, a different distribution of expenses, the on the ground presence of at least a few non-disgruntled personnel to direct users to the right places and procedures might be a more appropriate place to begin overhauling a system that has grown too expensive to support its users. Airports, at least in theory, are locations of international hospitality. Relying exclusively on the shrewdness of the ideal traveler is an unrealistic burden on those who are not.
One of Alitalia's mottos, and the title of this post, is "Muoviamo chi muove l'Italia" -- we move those who move Italy. Perhaps it would be advantageous to Alitalia to stay true to its promise and consider the basic needs and characteristics of those it aims to service (or have service themselves).
No comments:
Post a Comment