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[ 5 minute read ]
Eggshells and me
Sally, my next-door neighbour left half a dozen eggs on my doorstep again. This time she was not reciprocating my gift-giving of tomatoes though. That's alright; good neighbours experience that special kind of relationship that others do not. I 'get' the weeds on my other next-door neighbours drive when he is not there; it stops him using weedkiller. Getting his weeds is easy; I just run a shovel along his concreted drive. After a few years of this treatment the weeds have learned to be obedient and don't put long roots down while I am still being vigilant. That special relationship might mean not talking to each other for a year or so.
Sally, is an enigma to me. She is the sort of person that can make me feel foolish and at the same time interesting. She intrigues me. But often I over-think things; simply because I have spare capacity to dwell. Maybe that is why people think I am a dim-wit: I follow too many rabbit-holes.
I don't know what to do. When I left tomatoes on her doorstep twice she left me eggs twice. Now there is a third half-dozen on my doorstep but I didn't give her tomatoes, did I...did I? It is the date of the egg-surprise that troubles me.
A few years ago, I was thoroughly schooled in manners by a Chinese woman; from the mainland, I might add. To define her a little more, she spoke Mandarin as her first language. I have had dealings with the former Hong Kong Chinese; a little experience is enough to have an expectation of what to expect from the next encounter. However, the Mainland China Mandarin-speaking woman shamed me.
I used to own a Europe-wide home and business relocation entity (business). Many of the moves would be international. I met the Chinese woman at Cambridge University for her move to London. She had just finished her final studies and was going to her London home. The arrangement was for the evening with a 8pm start in Cambridge. She was very polite and respectful; but Cambridge students invariably are because they know they do not have full control of the situation. I was always very respectful in return because no-one likes to be in a new situation with limited control. I knew I was in trouble when, once we were on the M11 to London she asked if she could ask me a question.
'Uh oh!' I thought. 'What's this?' I wasn't worried about what the question might be but I recognised the measured and deliberately polite approach.
Years before I met the calm and polite woman, I had just returned from working in Greece and thought I would relax in the Republic of Ireland. At the time, I had an ear for accents and dialect and soon, because I find such things fascinating, integrated the Irish approach to asking for something into myself. Think respect for someone's time, attention and effort and you will be on the way to at least a peek through a hole in a fence at the wonderful Irish character of musical politeness.
When I came back from Eire (Republic of Ireland) to my home village in England I, one early morning, went to the village newsagent to buy some tobacco. The woman behind the counter was busy doing something, but I didn't really want to wait. What should I do?
'Would you happen to have, and if it is not too much trouble, half an ounce of Golden Virginia? And would you mind, when you have the time, selling it to me, please?' I asked.
She stood, rising from her crouched task and briefly stared at me.
'That is the most polite request I have ever heard', she looked at me in wonderment.
'I have just come back from Ireland.' Further explanation was unnecessary.
So, I know that extreme politeness can be both a mark of respect and a mask for impatience, but how was the calm Chinese woman asking for permission to ask a question? I don't remember the question, because it wasn't even remotely close to invasive or weird. I only mention her extreme politeness because it was evidence of her culture.
Once we had finished unloading her things, and I had met her mother who was also warmly respectful, the Chinese woman offered me some food. It was late and I needed to get home to rest because my team and I had a big job the next day. She insisted. I refused. She looked upset and insisted again, so I reluctantly acquiesced to eating with them. Her brother arrived with some food in those Chinese Takeway containers. he worked in a restaurant. I again told them that I cannot stay long. She insisted I take some with me but there were no more containers because the flat / apartment was empty. I reluctantly accepted, by now a little impatient to leave.
Most people will recognise an honour thing going on here. Finally it occurred to me. She offered me all the food and so I took it just so I could go. I had no intention of eating it but by now I was intent on getting home where I would still have to spend another two hours working on the office stuff. My head was about work while hers was about relationships.
At the time, I felt like I had pulled the wings off a butterfly, carelessly picked the only flower from a plant that only flowers once every ten years or once in its lifetime. I felt like I had walked with muddy boots across a child's painting. I was a vandal, a brute with no sense of what is important in human relationships. If you understand cockney rhyming slang, a berk.
I don't always remember my crassness in London but I am glad that I can and gratified for the experience and that It is important to me today. The time in Ireland and the meeting with a remarkable Chinese culture through the fine Chinese woman and her family make it difficult for me to know how to deal with the eggs left on my doorstep by Sally, my next-door neighbour. They are not a reciprocation of a gift. Neither are they solicited. They were left on All Saints Day (1st November).
I don't know what to do. I thought about carving some little wooden figures and leaving them on her doorstep, like saints or angels or something, but......
