Journals of a Hotel Manager

The busiest season which in hospitality industry jargon called ‘the festive’ is officially underway.  It is characteristically evident by a full hotel, unusually large number of families and boisterous children, endless buffet, better dressed guests, and a depleted stock of champagne.  This is often the most trying season for hotel staff as well, who work overtime while the rest of the world enjoys the holidays.

Despite the economic crisis, our hotel occupancy has soared and will maintain its momentum well into the New Year.  On top of that, the owner of the hotel has decided to come and spend his festive season here with us, with a family of fifteen in tow.

I am planning a pre-festive gathering in my accommodation tonight.  All expatriate managers live in apartments and small houses on hotel grounds, near the parking lot.  It will be a good opportunity to charge their (alcoholic) batteries before the crunch.  But this morning my gregarious resident manager Lincoln, a loveable dude from Philly, came in to work with an ashen face.  During the entire morning briefing he muttered no word, especially when Mastra reported that the God of Rats prayer ceremony had gone successfully and we were to expect the rat problem to be resolved.

By noon Lincoln was pale and perspiring profusely.  I urged him to see a doctor but as the man he is he said he just needed some rest.  In another 20 minutes he couldn’t even walk himself back to his house.  We put him in a guest room that was out of order.  Poor Lincoln was not himself and was constantly in the bathroom.

Our in house doctor went to check on him but couldn’t find anything wrong except that he was very uncomfortable.  We put Lincoln in a car and drove to the nearest local clinic, where a blood test showed abnormally high white blood counts.  Lincoln was apparently doubled up in pain with a hugely bloated belly and running a fever.  Perplexed and worried, the clinic decided to evacuate him to a hospital in the capital.  The last I heard was that Lincoln was in a helicopter being rushed to the capital.  His next of kin, his sister in Philly, had to be informed and I also had to inform my boss of this development just in case anything worse was to happen.

I am facing a full house for two weeks, owner’s visit and the festive without my resident manager.  Life in hospitality industry is never dull.

Poor Lincoln, his festive is surely ruined.  I hope he recovers soon.  He will be missed at our party tonight.

© 2008 Global Hotel Nomad (SH)