Wednesday, 22 April 2009

• Blog Topic Situations

  After a period when personal blogs have receded to the edges of life's tapestry, there comes a day when they again recommend themselves as useful means of musing on the seemingly petty occurrences of daily existence.  Today was one of those times when potential topics stole upon me in a beguiling fashion.  Three titles gradually materialized, based on today's thoughts and experiences offering free writing opportunity.  They are:

  The Cross-Cultural Dilemma

  A Culture of Anger

  The Aura of Words

  The choice is mine. And I have made it.  Each of the three topics lend themselves to enjoyable posts (on my part as author.  If you find them tiresome, you are free to surf swiftly out of sight on the next cyber wave), however the topic will be:

  The Cross-Cultural Dilemma

   

              It was the last day of English Composition I class.  I strode through the door and settled myself comfortably in my customary front row seat.  Placing my laptop in service ready position, I waited patiently for the arrival of the instructor.   Presently she entered the classroom, her hand steadying her enormous leather handbag.  She took her place behind the teacher’s desk and beamed at the class.  “Good afternoon, everyone, it’s the last day of class.  Boo-hoo,” she made a sorrowful moue.  She proceeded to remove the roll sheet and ply her pen to the names.  I watched as I always did. My name had usually been at the head of the list.  “Andrew..is here,” she murmured, glancing at me and smiling as she did so.  “There he sits….stability itself. He’s always so regal.  Sometimes I wonder what he thinks of me.”

              My internal situation was somewhat unsteadied.  “Stability” insisted on offering a subtle stroke to the vanity although my sensible self immediately repressed it.  “Regal,” I mused.  “There is a first to everything in life, and this indubitably qualifies.  ‘Regal’ is not an adjective I have heard applied in terms of myself.  She is curious to know what I think of her.  She would, no doubt, think me overly stiff and critical.”  

  But she was going on to tell us of another class opinion that classified her as unconventional and eccentric.  I consoled myself as being average and naturally tried to modify the definition to make it my own.  “Zany” I thought, “would fit nicely.”

  The class continued as usual with the instructor explaining our last essay, following the brief lecture with time for a bit of a preliminary free write on our topics.  Toward the end of the period when we were preparing to leave, she gave her farewell remarks.  I listened with one ear as I typed sporadically in the throes of my rough draft’s composition.  My attention was arrested when I heard the phrase, “…would like a hug from everyone before they leave. It’s okay. I’m a social worker.”  Immediately my thought processes concentrated on the situation at hand and suitable plans of action.  “A hug,” I thought.  “How does one approach the solicited hug from one of the merest acquaintance?  I am not adept at the maneuver, having had little practice, and being raised in a culture limiting expression to (as I termed it later) ‘Hands across the genders’.  What should be the proper response?  Should I embark in lengthy explanations regarding cultural sensitivity and the rationale for self-restraint in the form of handshakes? Perhaps it would be good opportunity for pointing out the possible devaluation of the hug in today’s culture.  Should I say, ‘Could I please just shake your hand?’ “ These avenues all seemed the coldest route available.  At length as I packed up my laptop, stalling for time to allow the above deliberation, I came to a conclusion.  I noted that the men who were taking their turns, caused her to complain of their backpacks creating some impediment.  Therefore as the last one in line, I graciously waited to don mine and approached her meekly.  “I’ll give you your hug before I leave,” I said, and it was done. 

  In recounting the scene later, I was informed of the many genres of hugs from which one can choose in such scenarios.  And I listened attentively as one unschooled.     

                 

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