Saturday 29 October 2011

The most important thing

Once upon a time, not that long ago, I heard a whakatauki/proverb from Maori culture that tends to dog me wherever I go. The shortened version of the proverb is He aha te mea nui o te ao? What is the greatest thing in the world? The answer is he tangata, he tangata, he tangata. People, people, people.

This proverb has the ability to pop up completely unexpected and unsolicited and slap me over the head like a stout piece of timber. Every time it does I remember how important people are.

When I go to the supermarket and see the automatic checkout that has a machine instead of a person manning it.

When I meet someone who genuinely seems interested in me and hearing what I have to say.

When someone laughs at my jokes.

When someone takes time to answer my questions kindly and helpfully.

When someone welcomes me into their home and shares a meal with me.

When one of my friends tells me about travelling on a train overseas and strangers who did not speak English shared food with her.

When someone mocks something I have said.

When someone interrupts me.

When someone goes out of their way to help me.

Sometimes it is not always easy to treat everyone you meet with respect and with a servant attitude to put their needs before your own but I think it is a noble asiration to at least try. Afterall he aha te mea nui o te ao? He tangata, he tangata, he tangata.

Friday 7 October 2011

Pardon me your furball is making me sick

One day, many years ago now, a friend of mine said to me that the foibles of other people would test my character and make me a better person if I allowed them to. I had never really given much attention to the word foibles before he said that to me even though I was aware some people had funny little ways which were downright irritating.  However, now I know what it means, it has become one of my favourites nouns.

Foibles has a lovely ring to it. Foy  bulls.  Apparently foibles or furballs as I like to call them are a  minor weakness or eccentricity in someone's character. It is a minor defect and does not deserve punishment but it can be irritating or annoying. And if you think about it for a second furballs, the collection of fur that a cat sometimes coughs up and foibles, a minor weakness or eccentricty, are quite similar. Let me explain. And I must warn you this is no explanation for the weak stomached nor does it really have any scientific merit.

I base my observations from my viewpoint as an agricultural farm girl type of chick. After years of relating to cats I modestly consider myself quite an expert on their funny little ways.

You may not have had the bad fortune to have a cat attempt to cough up a furball on your bed in the middle of the night but I nearly did once. Fortunately the furball did not land on the bed because I woke up in time. The  cat plopped onto the floor with a well-aimed shove and delivered a wet, sausage shaped collection of strands of fur there. With an indignant flick of its tail it jumped back onto the bed and went back to sleep. I grumblingly found something to clean up the mess and took ages to get back to sleep because my feet were cold and my hands smelled of disenfectant.

You may also have never seen a furball in real life but I can assure you when someone coughs up a minor weakness or eccentricity it is just like they have egested a ball of fur from their stomach. It's a bit gross and embarressing and annoying.

For example let us think of a minor weakness like not listening. Some people, well many people, are not good at listening. They like to talk especially about themselves but they do not like to listen unless someone is telling them how great they are. It  is a weakness in their character. If you spend too much time with them it can get annoying and if you are in a group of people where one person talks too much it can be embarrassing. And depending on the situation it can even be a bit gross.

A bit like a furball really.

The great thing about foibles is we all have them. Little flaws and cracks in our character that have the potential to wind others up.The trick is we need to learn how to deal with the foibles of others which is easier said than done. I do not really have much wisdom on that except to try and deal with foibles in the similar understanding way to how I cope when my furry purry girl coughs up a furball.

I suspect that like cats often get more furballs as they get older our foibles become more apparent and harder to hide as we age. We also are less tolerant of other people's foibles.

The good news is while all humans have foibles not all cats have furballs which is where I guess the similarity ends.

Saturday 1 October 2011

Edible friends

I have discovered a good way to think about friends regularly is to associate them with food. I have been doing it for a long time now without realising it but recently two events  opened my eyes to this rather curious habit. Let me explain!! Example one I was in the supermarket and I saw crumbed sausages. Instantly I  laughed out loud, lucky no-one heard, and remembered Sue who I flatted with in Hokitika. Every so often we would have a meal of crumbed sausages because I think Sue was particularly fond of them. It became a joke between us because she liked them but to me they were like rubber bullets to eat. Not that I have ever eaten rubber bullets.

The second example was the day I found out Aunty originally from Kolkata had died in Tauranga. I had just been up to her 80th birthday party but a few weeks later she departed this world. I moped around all day at work, knowing I would not be able to make it to the memorial service but wanting to acknowlege the input she had had in my life. So I decided to make a curry for tea. I had beef in the freezer but I knew Aunty would not eat beef so I bought some chicken. I made the curry and some roti and remembered Aunty. It was a great curry and I almost dared wonder whether it would have passed Aunty's high standard of currying excellence.

Now I stop and realise this is what I do heaps of examples flood into my mind. I have a cup of earl grey tea and have a flashback to times when I shared a cup with Jen who is now on the other side of the world. George and pernod, Kim and avocado, Lochumlo and green beans, Gayleen and roti, Annie and cheesecake, Heidi, Raja and marsala, Olly and dahl, Marianne and hummus, Catherine and sticky rice, the list is endless.

I am separated from most of my friends who are spread throughout New Zealand and the world but they seem very close when I eat something that reminds me of them. And I guess if you can't be with people the next best thing is remembering the great times you have shared many of them over food.
The sucker is nailed. ( See earlier post 11/9/2001) It is hard to believe but after nearly three years and well over the prescribed 25 hours (more like 500) I have passed the two typing tests I needed to earn a diploma in journalism.
How do I feel about this I hear you ask? Well actually I felt a bit like the blackbird I hear singing with abandonment and euphoria every morning. Pretty stoked. And that is all I want to say about that.