A World Wallowing in So Much Hatred?
I wouldn't have written about this if it wasn't for the manner my mind keeps returning to it.
My wife and I went for "Wohnung Anziehen" in a little, prosperous-looking town called Heidesheim. Just off the train, we took a long walk because we weren't sure of how the only bus that operates in the town works. We also somehow wasn't sure of our way and the world's most trusted "Navi" wasn't much of a help since our internet connection chose that moment to go visit its ancestors.
But that's not what am concerned about.
We just finished our business with this beautiful family, and were standing at the bus stop - a 40+ minutes wait for the next ride into the city for our other appointment. There were no seats there. It's actually one of those bus stops on a narrow highway out of town which is usually marked out by just a signpost and nothing else. So our position was on the sidewalk, with a shrubby incline behind us and then the fence of one of the last buildings in the town. We have been standing for over 30 minutes and I've graduated from "forming hard person" in standing still, to interchanging the body weight from one foot to the other, and then to pacing. I was getting to that level where I was going to discharge all forms of pretence and take a seat on that sidewalk to justify the variegated "Looks" we got from different categories of people (in age and every shade of colour except ours), who were driving by in cars that defined the manner they perceived our presence there. It was obvious that the pair of us wasn't a common feature in that little, sleepy place, especially on a less-frequently used sidewalk busstop at the edge of town.
Did I tell you I once did it in Lagos?
Yea! I was going to South Africa for a few months. I had a sizeable amount of luggage - we always do! And I think I went to the airport too early. Came into Lagos that morning; had no other place to go, So I found my way to the airport and had to wait for over five hours for check-in to commence. Since there were no seats anywhere in the Hall, I didn't wait for a long time to decide to select a wall and then lowering myself to the floor against it and making sure I stared back at anyone who dared to even sneak a look. It was just me and the young lady (I borrowed that form of being true to oneself from) that were initially seated comfortably on the hard, cold floor. Then, before long, almost every other person was well seated. I still remember the hesitation that a friend who came to see me off had before he finally decided to join the trend. I could post the pic!
Back to my story!
It was like 30 minutes into the compulsory busstop standing: every bigger-than-car vehicle appearing in the distance somewhat raised our hopes that we were at least going to sit down after that long period of soldiering. Then one of such big automobiles was coming towards us. Of course, I'd confirmed it wasn't our bus. But it's a narrow road and the way the vehicles maneuvered their way through and the manner one driver waited patiently for the other in a seemingly synchronized and orderly fashion, was also a good distraction for me.
Then this heavy duty truck sped past, and immediately behind it was this Renault that is slightly bigger than a car. I can't remember what it's called. It was too close to the truck that we almost didn't notice it but for "the finger" directed towards me from behind the protection of the vehicle's windshield! Reflexively, my eyes followed the fast-moving vehicle and I could see the accompanying scowl from the owner of the significant finger, a young man who wouldn't be more than 12.
I asked my wife. She neither saw him nor noticed it. It was just me. And I was sure I didn't imagine it. I can still recall the boy's face: bespectacled, nerd-looking, lacking in much flesh and seated in the front passenger seat beside a man, the driver, who appeared to be his grand father, grand friend or whatever, but assuredly too old to be his father.
The boy didn't look so well and as much as I remember that face, the finger and the scowl, I could only wonder what battles this young life is going through in his own world that would make him sacrifice his middle finger in order to give a total stranger a negative impression of him and his community. And also, why he could so comfortably do that beside this aged man. That kind of act from me beside my father when I was his age, would have earned me a life-changing hiding which will most naturally start from his stopping the car and making me apologise to the stranger. Such little acts, one insignificant expression and an innocent bystander gets a definition of a people and their environment which may completely be at variance with reality.
And so are we! We have our battles. We have unpleasant realities and demons that often mitigate our joy. But we often pass off these unwanted happenings to others as if they are the cause. In the workplace, school, home, street, and even in foreign places, the "Other" (the one not like us) becomes our punchbag especially when we sense a little air of power, like the young boy seated in a moving car who knows that I can't touch him there. He wouldn't give a finger to the bully, probably his age mate, who makes him uncomfortable. I am not and would never be his problem. His demons are!
Wouldn't the world be a better place if we faced our battles rather than turn on "Others" and bare our claws on them when we sense a little breeze of relevance? I forgive you, child. Your little act does not define Heidesheim, nor does it in any way impair the goodliness of the wonderful friends I have made in Deutschland. Yours is peripheral and I pray you finally find a way to face your bitterness and become a happier person.
Am I back to blogging or is this a passing phase...?
My wife and I went for "Wohnung Anziehen" in a little, prosperous-looking town called Heidesheim. Just off the train, we took a long walk because we weren't sure of how the only bus that operates in the town works. We also somehow wasn't sure of our way and the world's most trusted "Navi" wasn't much of a help since our internet connection chose that moment to go visit its ancestors.
But that's not what am concerned about.
We just finished our business with this beautiful family, and were standing at the bus stop - a 40+ minutes wait for the next ride into the city for our other appointment. There were no seats there. It's actually one of those bus stops on a narrow highway out of town which is usually marked out by just a signpost and nothing else. So our position was on the sidewalk, with a shrubby incline behind us and then the fence of one of the last buildings in the town. We have been standing for over 30 minutes and I've graduated from "forming hard person" in standing still, to interchanging the body weight from one foot to the other, and then to pacing. I was getting to that level where I was going to discharge all forms of pretence and take a seat on that sidewalk to justify the variegated "Looks" we got from different categories of people (in age and every shade of colour except ours), who were driving by in cars that defined the manner they perceived our presence there. It was obvious that the pair of us wasn't a common feature in that little, sleepy place, especially on a less-frequently used sidewalk busstop at the edge of town.
Did I tell you I once did it in Lagos?
Yea! I was going to South Africa for a few months. I had a sizeable amount of luggage - we always do! And I think I went to the airport too early. Came into Lagos that morning; had no other place to go, So I found my way to the airport and had to wait for over five hours for check-in to commence. Since there were no seats anywhere in the Hall, I didn't wait for a long time to decide to select a wall and then lowering myself to the floor against it and making sure I stared back at anyone who dared to even sneak a look. It was just me and the young lady (I borrowed that form of being true to oneself from) that were initially seated comfortably on the hard, cold floor. Then, before long, almost every other person was well seated. I still remember the hesitation that a friend who came to see me off had before he finally decided to join the trend. I could post the pic!
Just removed it! Maybe later...
Back to my story!
It was like 30 minutes into the compulsory busstop standing: every bigger-than-car vehicle appearing in the distance somewhat raised our hopes that we were at least going to sit down after that long period of soldiering. Then one of such big automobiles was coming towards us. Of course, I'd confirmed it wasn't our bus. But it's a narrow road and the way the vehicles maneuvered their way through and the manner one driver waited patiently for the other in a seemingly synchronized and orderly fashion, was also a good distraction for me.
Then this heavy duty truck sped past, and immediately behind it was this Renault that is slightly bigger than a car. I can't remember what it's called. It was too close to the truck that we almost didn't notice it but for "the finger" directed towards me from behind the protection of the vehicle's windshield! Reflexively, my eyes followed the fast-moving vehicle and I could see the accompanying scowl from the owner of the significant finger, a young man who wouldn't be more than 12.
I asked my wife. She neither saw him nor noticed it. It was just me. And I was sure I didn't imagine it. I can still recall the boy's face: bespectacled, nerd-looking, lacking in much flesh and seated in the front passenger seat beside a man, the driver, who appeared to be his grand father, grand friend or whatever, but assuredly too old to be his father.
The boy didn't look so well and as much as I remember that face, the finger and the scowl, I could only wonder what battles this young life is going through in his own world that would make him sacrifice his middle finger in order to give a total stranger a negative impression of him and his community. And also, why he could so comfortably do that beside this aged man. That kind of act from me beside my father when I was his age, would have earned me a life-changing hiding which will most naturally start from his stopping the car and making me apologise to the stranger. Such little acts, one insignificant expression and an innocent bystander gets a definition of a people and their environment which may completely be at variance with reality.
And so are we! We have our battles. We have unpleasant realities and demons that often mitigate our joy. But we often pass off these unwanted happenings to others as if they are the cause. In the workplace, school, home, street, and even in foreign places, the "Other" (the one not like us) becomes our punchbag especially when we sense a little air of power, like the young boy seated in a moving car who knows that I can't touch him there. He wouldn't give a finger to the bully, probably his age mate, who makes him uncomfortable. I am not and would never be his problem. His demons are!
Wouldn't the world be a better place if we faced our battles rather than turn on "Others" and bare our claws on them when we sense a little breeze of relevance? I forgive you, child. Your little act does not define Heidesheim, nor does it in any way impair the goodliness of the wonderful friends I have made in Deutschland. Yours is peripheral and I pray you finally find a way to face your bitterness and become a happier person.
Am I back to blogging or is this a passing phase...?
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