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Opinion
[ 5 minute read ]
Reality trumps Generosity
Neutral bent into Joy withered by Reality
I was in my local city a couple of days ago. As I crossed the thin river I noticed a man taking photographs on the pedestrian bridge. He politely stopped me and showed me a photograph of one of the universities. It is an image that the world recognises my local city by.
'Excuse me, [ugly man]. Do you know where this is, please?' I did, so I told him what the name of the university is and gave him directions for where to find it. I got on my bicycle, and intent on doing some food-shopping at my favourite meeting and talking place, ALDI, pedalled off.
After about two minutes I stopped. That man, I thought, is by himself and a visiting tourist to the city. He is also Asian. His culture may regard my cold response as rude. I know that coach-loads of people visit my city just because it is a university city; no other reason. It is not Bicester with shoes to attract visitors or Beamish with olde worlde (sic) Victorian-Edwardian stuff, and it is not York with narrow streets that show how close the upper storeys of building were to each other. That man, as a visitor, might feel that he has not properly visited my city unless he can get a photograph to match the one on his phone.
I had already explained to him that it appears that the photo was taken from university property and he may not be able to reach the same position. I changed direction and made my way to find him on the route I had directed him on. I shall be his tourist guide, I decided.
He was surprised when I found him and told him I would take him to the other side of the college that he wanted to photograph, and then take him to where the photo on his phone was taken. Many British people would brush that level of attention off. 'Er.. no thanks. I am fine. Er... thanks though.' He, however, was not British and readily accepted my attention, though he was surprised that someone would help him so eagerly.
I showed him around the tiny city and he got some great shots of the college he was 'touristically' attracted to. When we got to a gate that separated the public from the college grounds (where the photo on his phone was taken from) he did not want to pay a large fee for entry into those college grounds just to take his own photo (the fee was actually for entry into the inner areas and surrounding land, but he had a train to catch). But, even though I had fortuitously shown him the more public view from the market square in the city, and some other areas unique to the city, which be snapped on his phone, I left him feeling as though I had still not done all I could. The man had traveled from India to England to visit his sister in Manchester for two weeks and had caught a train to my city as a tourist, simply because it is an iconic city. I got home and as I settled down realised I had miserably failed in the task I had set myself. My task was to completely lift him into a wonderful experience that he would never imagine might actually happen. I have spare money and I had a couple of days of time free, while he would only use a couple of hours of it. My resources were ample to make his visit much better than I offered. I should have paid his entry fee to the college so he could get his photo. I should have bought him lunch and given him, if I could find one, a souvenir. It might have cost me no more than £40 and only some of my time to make his day really special.
Of course, he was delighted to be feted as a valuable person such as I obviously held him to be, and he wanted to take my photo to remind himself of the man who helped him. Of course, I didn't let him; for a number of excellent reasons.
We might look at this as someone (me) who, having gotten home, in hindsight fantasised about being generous, and having not, in reality, spent any money does not have the same thoughts that reduced financial resources would actually induce in that person. I could not hold any conceptual manifestation of regret because I had incurred no cost to myself; the supermarket was still there when I got there, and I had a great conversation with a Chinese woman on the Special Edition Pepsi that tastes of gingerbread and the toffee on her toffee-apples, and how sugar and a tiny amount of water in a microwave for four minutes might be ten, or six, or twenty-nine seconds too long.
My spending options did not change as a consequence of my encounter with Indian man and he should be pleased that he was noticed and momentarily befriended in a city he was not familiar with. Yet, I could have done more. I know better. I also know that it is highly unusual for someone to offer themselves such as I did; and it might scare a lot of people.
However, let's go back to ALDI and the conversation with the Chinese woman at the checkout with many tins of Special Edition Gingerbread-flavour Pepsi and three toffee-apples.
Plainly, the Pepsi is a Christmas marketing strategy and I never see toffee-apples for sale, but I used to quite a lot. Ah! Maybe it is Halloween coming up that brings ginger-bread flavoured Pepsi onto the supermarket shelves and Guy Fawkes night, or Bonfire night, that makes eating toffee-apples more interesting than at other times in the year. (This revelation is today's thought).
'A Christmas thing?' I asked.
'Yes. They are ginger but not hot!' she replied while waiting for the person in front of her pack their bags and pay.
'No, gingerbread is a confectionery, a cake. It is sweet and spicy.' I offered. 'The toffee-apples are for Christmas? Do you follow the Christmas traditions?'
'The older ones do not, but the young ones do.'
'February'. I said.
'New Year.'
'You know you can make toffee to put on apples?' i asked. Of course she knows.
'I don't know how.'
I know the checkout person who had started passing the Chinese woman's goods past the scanner. 'Kay.' I called, 'Making toffee. Sugar and evaporated milk?'
'That's fudge.' Kay said.
By now I knew that the woman behind me at the conveyer-belt had heard the three-way conversation ahead of her, so I turned to her and asked, 'Excuse me. How would you make toffee?'
I often forget that people are private creatures and many of them switch themselves off in public. Now here is the contrast:
'Well, there are lots of ways to make toffee!' She didn't elaborate.
I mentally stared at her in shock. The toffee we are focusing on is the toffee that surrounds an apple to make a toffee-apple; brittle with some kind of flavour to it?
She didn't know how to make toffee, I concluded; which is why she wobbled. To her mind, I had probably exposed her as inadequate in some way, and she needed to cover her self-imposed feelings of ineptitude as best she could. Except no-one ever feels it right or necessary to expose other people unless they feel inadequate in themselves and have something to prove. You know? Belittle someone else with public abasement so by inference the abuser seems superior to an audience. Of course, I realise that if she had told us how to make toffee to put on toffee-apples she would by implication admit to eavesdropping. In ALDI I drop all pretence of having those kind of restrictive manners. Everybody hears everyone else and that is what makes shopping in ALDI so much fun.
Me; Anustum, the Indian man; a Chinese woman; Kay, the checkout person with a degree; and a mature woman who seemingly carries a level of embarrassment with her in ALDI. I shouldn't have addressed them all.
My day which started as neutral, was bent into joy by accessing my genorosity and openness, became sad when reality struck.
Reality trumps Generosity
All my posts: https://learn1.open.ac.uk/mod/oublog/view.php?u=zw219551
or search for 'martin cadwell -caldwell' Take note of the position of the minus sign to eliminate caldwell returns or search for 'martin cadwell blog' in your browser.
I am not on YouTube or social media
[ 5 minute read ]
Reality trumps Generosity
Neutral bent into Joy withered by Reality
I was in my local city a couple of days ago. As I crossed the thin river I noticed a man taking photographs on the pedestrian bridge. He politely stopped me and showed me a photograph of one of the universities. It is an image that the world recognises my local city by.
'Excuse me, [ugly man]. Do you know where this is, please?' I did, so I told him what the name of the university is and gave him directions for where to find it. I got on my bicycle, and intent on doing some food-shopping at my favourite meeting and talking place, ALDI, pedalled off.
After about two minutes I stopped. That man, I thought, is by himself and a visiting tourist to the city. He is also Asian. His culture may regard my cold response as rude. I know that coach-loads of people visit my city just because it is a university city; no other reason. It is not Bicester with shoes to attract visitors or Beamish with olde worlde (sic) Victorian-Edwardian stuff, and it is not York with narrow streets that show how close the upper storeys of building were to each other. That man, as a visitor, might feel that he has not properly visited my city unless he can get a photograph to match the one on his phone.
I had already explained to him that it appears that the photo was taken from university property and he may not be able to reach the same position. I changed direction and made my way to find him on the route I had directed him on. I shall be his tourist guide, I decided.
He was surprised when I found him and told him I would take him to the other side of the college that he wanted to photograph, and then take him to where the photo on his phone was taken. Many British people would brush that level of attention off. 'Er.. no thanks. I am fine. Er... thanks though.' He, however, was not British and readily accepted my attention, though he was surprised that someone would help him so eagerly.
I showed him around the tiny city and he got some great shots of the college he was 'touristically' attracted to. When we got to a gate that separated the public from the college grounds (where the photo on his phone was taken from) he did not want to pay a large fee for entry into those college grounds just to take his own photo (the fee was actually for entry into the inner areas and surrounding land, but he had a train to catch). But, even though I had fortuitously shown him the more public view from the market square in the city, and some other areas unique to the city, which be snapped on his phone, I left him feeling as though I had still not done all I could. The man had traveled from India to England to visit his sister in Manchester for two weeks and had caught a train to my city as a tourist, simply because it is an iconic city. I got home and as I settled down realised I had miserably failed in the task I had set myself. My task was to completely lift him into a wonderful experience that he would never imagine might actually happen. I have spare money and I had a couple of days of time free, while he would only use a couple of hours of it. My resources were ample to make his visit much better than I offered. I should have paid his entry fee to the college so he could get his photo. I should have bought him lunch and given him, if I could find one, a souvenir. It might have cost me no more than £40 and only some of my time to make his day really special.
Of course, he was delighted to be feted as a valuable person such as I obviously held him to be, and he wanted to take my photo to remind himself of the man who helped him. Of course, I didn't let him; for a number of excellent reasons.
We might look at this as someone (me) who, having gotten home, in hindsight fantasised about being generous, and having not, in reality, spent any money does not have the same thoughts that reduced financial resources would actually induce in that person. I could not hold any conceptual manifestation of regret because I had incurred no cost to myself; the supermarket was still there when I got there, and I had a great conversation with a Chinese woman on the Special Edition Pepsi that tastes of gingerbread and the toffee on her toffee-apples, and how sugar and a tiny amount of water in a microwave for four minutes might be ten, or six, or twenty-nine seconds too long.
My spending options did not change as a consequence of my encounter with Indian man and he should be pleased that he was noticed and momentarily befriended in a city he was not familiar with. Yet, I could have done more. I know better. I also know that it is highly unusual for someone to offer themselves such as I did; and it might scare a lot of people.
However, let's go back to ALDI and the conversation with the Chinese woman at the checkout with many tins of Special Edition Gingerbread-flavour Pepsi and three toffee-apples.
Plainly, the Pepsi is a Christmas marketing strategy and I never see toffee-apples for sale, but I used to quite a lot. Ah! Maybe it is Halloween coming up that brings ginger-bread flavoured Pepsi onto the supermarket shelves and Guy Fawkes night, or Bonfire night, that makes eating toffee-apples more interesting than at other times in the year. (This revelation is today's thought).
'A Christmas thing?' I asked.
'Yes. They are ginger but not hot!' she replied while waiting for the person in front of her pack their bags and pay.
'No, gingerbread is a confectionery, a cake. It is sweet and spicy.' I offered. 'The toffee-apples are for Christmas? Do you follow the Christmas traditions?'
'The older ones do not, but the young ones do.'
'February'. I said.
'New Year.'
'You know you can make toffee to put on apples?' i asked. Of course she knows.
'I don't know how.'
I know the checkout person who had started passing the Chinese woman's goods past the scanner. 'Kay.' I called, 'Making toffee. Sugar and evaporated milk?'
'That's fudge.' Kay said.
By now I knew that the woman behind me at the conveyer-belt had heard the three-way conversation ahead of her, so I turned to her and asked, 'Excuse me. How would you make toffee?'
I often forget that people are private creatures and many of them switch themselves off in public. Now here is the contrast:
'Well, there are lots of ways to make toffee!' She didn't elaborate.
I mentally stared at her in shock. The toffee we are focusing on is the toffee that surrounds an apple to make a toffee-apple; brittle with some kind of flavour to it?
She didn't know how to make toffee, I concluded; which is why she wobbled. To her mind, I had probably exposed her as inadequate in some way, and she needed to cover her self-imposed feelings of ineptitude as best she could. Except no-one ever feels it right or necessary to expose other people unless they feel inadequate in themselves and have something to prove. You know? Belittle someone else with public abasement so by inference the abuser seems superior to an audience. Of course, I realise that if she had told us how to make toffee to put on toffee-apples she would by implication admit to eavesdropping. In ALDI I drop all pretence of having those kind of restrictive manners. Everybody hears everyone else and that is what makes shopping in ALDI so much fun.
Me; Anustum, the Indian man; a Chinese woman; Kay, the checkout person with a degree; and a mature woman who seemingly carries a level of embarrassment with her in ALDI. I shouldn't have addressed them all.
My day which started as neutral, was bent into joy by accessing my genorosity and openness, became sad when reality struck.