HOW TO SPEND 2 HOURS IN A BAD FASHION
(scroll down to read in Indonesian)
This is how: make an appointment with a gang of five blokes you barely know, and see where it leads you to. I did it last week, and I’d call it “hospitality gone mad”.
They were my seniors at uni; way above my year. I happened to be in emailing terms (every once in a while; the “how are you doing” stuff) with some of them, and when they announced their visit to my town, I was prompted to say, “Do come and let’s meet”. It was hospitality; a value Indonesians most treasured and were known of.
Well, people make stupid decisions from time to time. Last week was my time, and as I sat waiting for them for half an hour, I could easily depict what was coming.
They were of course nice, kind-hearted, good sort of fellas. It was not for them to blame that they lived in worlds I knew little of. They had their own language and topics. I ended up being the social outcast –not by design, I’m sure. Mind you, in most cases I LOVED learning about people and their lives, but they were too busy with themselves to let me start my civil attempts. And so there I was, curled myself in a ball right there in the corner, while the big blokes were laughing at their own jokes. Words reduced me to some occasional “Really?”, when I had the chance of speaking at all. Most of the time I was just smiling sheepishly and wondering what morass it was that I let myself be bogged down into. If hospitality had permitted, I would have got up and leave. But I was an Indonesian after all, and Indonesians were not supposed to do that.
The worst blow was when he (one of them) started preaching at me. I swear to God I stared at him in a startled, obvious dismay. He would have understood what he trespassed - had he been more sensitive-, yet he went on with his “moral lecture”. I thought of some possibilities: 1) snapping him off, 2) laughing at his verbose attempts, 3) walking out right away. But I checked myself. Again, politeness ruled.
And I knew he intended well.
To tell the truth, in the beginning, all of us intended well. They didn’t wish to be perceived as neglecting me while in town. I shared the opinion and wanted them to feel welcomed. But the fruit of all these kind intentions was 2 hours wasted in a bad fashion. Because in fact, I didn’t need to see them and they didn’t need to see me. My time was precious, and so were theirs (probably more!). In scenes like this, we should have let “hospitality” halt at the point where nobody got hurt.
Moral of the story:
The next time someone you hardly know, someone you don’t care enough about, someone you do not need/want to see, says he’s in town, the best policy is to text him, “Really? That’s good. Enjoy your visit.” and nothing more. It saves trouble.
I don’t think the gang cares enough about me to read my blog, but if by chance they do, I know I’m in trouble.
Well you see, blokes, I appreciated that you spared your precious time for me, but let’s be honest to admit that the rendezvous wasn’t fun.
posted by eloque @ 4:14 AM
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