Eldon-Online

Weight For It.

The reminders of ones own mortality seem, unsurprisingly, to be more frequent as one grows older but for some reason, at least in my case, they always appear to happen around this particular time of year. Five friends or acquaintances in the last three weeks alone and scarily, to me anyway, not one of them over 60. Were there underlying reasons? Perhaps in the case of two, yes, but the others were quite unexpected.

This alone sets one thinking, and having adopted a rather more sedentary lifestyle in recent years as sporting activities gave me up one by one, I discovered the distinct possibility that Michelin Man might have been modeled on a mirror image I was beginning to notice was following me around. Trying to ignore the fact that shirt collars were apparently shrinking in the wash, together with waist bands that suffered a similar fate at the dry cleaners, I battled bravely onwards. The need to meet deadlines and keep my work up to date was a convenient excuse. I was sampling any and all air line food because "it was something to do" on a long flight (actually, on short ones too). I was consciously sitting down to finish set meals at corporate events as it would have been rude to my hosts to leave anything on the plate (an old Westerner's habit - more as in "old Westerner", rather than an old habit - okay, it was how I was brought up! It was rude to leave anything, because it meant you didn't enjoy it and anyway, there were lots of people who would have been glad to have anything you left. )

Meanwhile my family were setting an example that I sort of missed. A new interest in training for triathlons from one, a continuing interest in extreme long distance planetary runs from another, a daily walk at speed from a third - and by proxy, of course, I was benefitting from all of this activity.

But then, another birthday slips into view and disappears, and younger friends who should still be around are suddenly no longer with us. The lifestyle begins to suggest (rather like the occasional doctor one sees), that even a modicum of additional exercise would not go amiss and, all of a sudden, the penny drops again.

Some years ago, about 2BR (two years Before Retirement) I think, I was wagered a decent sum of money that was to be handed over to charities of my wife's choice, were I to lose a fairly substantial amount of weight. I took on the challenge and won it, didn't know when to stop, and carried on removing further kilos. (I really understand how anorexia can get to people but, believe me, I was nowhere near that point!). However, in going down that path I began to look really old - no, seriously - to the point that I was asked at one time if I would say something publicly to reassure customers that I was actually well and healthy; they thought otherwise, it seems.

So now, senses restored, I am back in the groove. Thus if you see an elderly looking gweilo (I can call myself gweilo if I want to!) staggering slowly up Old Peak Road - all the way to the top occasionally - please don't break his concentration, or reduce his oxygen levels by speaking to him, but do give him a friendly wave, and pick him up if he has fallen over. If I start to look a little gaunt - the weight always comes off my face first which is a real nuisance - don't be alarmed. I actually look forward to the point when I can get back into my trousers without that sharp intake of breath prior to fastening them at the top, without bits of my neck hanging over my shirt collar, and being able to put on a different watch occasionally.

And if I reach my goals, there will be a couple of charities that should surely benefit from my own pleasure at having realised in time (hopefully), that while some things change you can positively help yourself.

以謙卑對待工作 (With All Due Humility.... Chinese Version)

I have been requested by a number of people to reproduce the Blog of 21 February 2009 in Chinese. Thanks to the help of a friend, a former journalist who offered to translate it for me, here it is.

據 南華早報 報道，當家庭傭工是極度丟臉的工作。你即管對數以千計在香港及全世界當傭工的菲律賓人讀出這段報道吧──他們當中不少人都擁有大學學位，只是不能善用其學識而已。然而在中國，當家庭傭工似乎是挺難為情的工作。

 

就讓我告訴你一段真人真事。這個故事與《南華早報》的報道只有兩處分別：首先是故事的主人翁（就把她稱為瑪利）沒有大學學位，其次是她從很久以前開展她的經歷。

 

瑪利生於蘇格蘭格拉斯哥其中一個最困苦的地區，家中還有五兄弟姊妹。在她的心目中，她的父親是一個好人，因為當子女上學的時候，他總會令他們的腳上有鞋可穿，不似其他小朋友般要赤腳上學。每當有新的紙皮時，就會經常更新六對鞋底。至於瑪利，則是個聰穎的女孩，經常在班上名列前茅，考試「只得」七、八十分的地理科，已是她表現最差的學科。可是瑪利幾乎每天遲到，被老師用皮條痛打。幾年之後，老師才了解她遲到的因由：原來她要先送妹妹上課才可回校，而妹妹的上課時間卻比她遲。但瑪利說，她不想為遲到找藉口。

 

由於要肩負養家的重擔，瑪利唯有在十四歲時輟學，並投身家庭傭工的行列，當起管家來。

 

後來第二次世界大戰爆發，瑪利加入軍隊服務。憑著她的技術及才智，瑪利很快便擢升為槍砲中士，無論被偏配到何方，都獲得極高的表揚及評價。隨著戰火漸漸熄滅，瑪利下嫁另一名中士──一個在訓練期間遇上的突擊隊隊員。不幸地，他在戰爭即將結束前陣亡，而瑪利及他的小兒子頓成孤寡。

 

長話短說，後來瑪利及小兒子獲一個家庭收留，更聘請了她為廚子及管家。那是一個十分寬敞的大宅，工作不可不謂繁重非常。雖然老闆是個通情達理的人，只是他們經常在家宴請大班賓客，瑪利不時都要在清早六時起床，整天不斷清潔及下廚，待晚上十一時才能就寢。然而她從未埋怨，始終逆來順受。當機會來臨時要努力爭取，同時繼續好好地過每一天。

 

瑪利默默地留在這個家庭，一直為同一對夫婦及其子女服務，直至七十二歲才決定放慢人生腳步，放下全職工作。在數十載的工作生涯中，她從未要求老闆加薪──她寧可要求有瓦遮頭，然後依靠丈夫去世時軍隊發放的恩恤金以及自己的養老金過活。

 

 

但瑪利的智慧從未因歲月而褪減。人到七十年華，她仍能在英國《泰晤士報》的填字比賽中打入倫敦市的決賽，只是她不願受公眾注目及承受比賽的壓力，才婉拒出席比賽。

 

瑪利的謙卑、她的慧根、她的忠誠、她的無私，為他人建立良好的工作榜樣。當家庭傭工值得羞恥嗎？這個念頭並不會在她腦海中閃過。她會說，工作就是工作──而如果在你的人生中出現其他的機遇，你就好好去把握它。

 

現在瑪利快樂地踏進人生的第九十個年頭，卻仍然一如以往般敏銳及獨立。她靜靜地過著舒適的生活，但若然她看見今天報章的標題，她應該會說「人們的期望實在太高了」，然後叫人不要再無病呻吟──在這個時世，不少人失去工作，還有工作可做的便應感到慶幸。

 

當我今晚致電瑪利時，我會告訴她這個故事──儘管她不會被稱為瑪利，我會叫她做媽媽！

...And "Mary" (Real Name) Is Surprised!

I want to say thank you.

My Blog "With All Due Humility, A Job's A Job" received an unprecedented number of hits during the week - so much so that I was quite overwhelmed. It was not that so many people have read it (and still are doing so), but the messages I received. Not just those that appeared on the site, and thank you for those too - but people who I never expected to comment. People who tracked me down. Some who I knew and many I didn't. But the comments were universally in praise of a resilient and resourceful woman who actually "sacrificed" much of her own potential happiness to ensure that I was able to take whatever opportunities came my way, (and for starters my leaving school at 16 didn't help!)

I did speak to her on the evening I published the blog, to tell her what I had done - and of course got told off in the process - but then I'm proud of my Mother, not ashamed of her!! But during the week, as I told her what was unfolding, she showed rare flashes of emotion and was herself really surprised that so many people had taken an interest in her story. I have promised to take her a printed copy of the blog when I go to see her next week but, in her soft Scottish brogue she said "But don't tell them where I live dear, I'm not ready for visitors".

Thank you.

With All Due Humility, A Job's A Job...

The height of humiliation, according to the South China Morning Post, is to work as a domestic helper. Try telling that to the thousands of Filipinas in Hong Kong and around the world, many with university degrees they can't put to good use. But, it seems, taking a job as a housekeeper is too embarrassing in China.

Let me tell you a true story. The only two points of significant difference between this story and the one in the newspaper are that firstly the subject (let's call her Mary) did not have a University degree, and secondly her life commenced many years ago.

Mary was born in one of the toughest parts of Glasgow, one of six children. Her Father, she said, was a good man because he always made sure his children had something to wear on their feet when they went to school, unlike many of the other children around them. The soles of the shoes were changed regularly, when there was a new piece of cardboard available. Mary was a bright child. Never out of the top two or three at school and where her worst subject was geography where she "only" got marks in the 70 and 80 percent levels. This, despite receiving punishment (usually the strap) almost every day for being late in the classroom. It was only some years later her teacher found out that Mary was late because she had to take her younger sister to school first, and the younger one started later than Mary. But, said Mary, she didn't want to go around making excuses. 

When she was 14 years old Mary had to stop school because the family needed her to work to earn money, so she entered domestic service as a housekeeper.

Ultimately the second world war intervened, and Mary joined the army where, due to her skill and intelligence, she rapidly rose through the ranks and became a gunnery sergeant, receiving high commendations and top marks wherever she went. As the war was coming to a close Mary married another sergeant - a commando who she had met when he was doing some training. Sadly he died just before the war ended leaving Mary a widow with a child on the way.

To cut what could be a very long story into a manageable tale, Mary found work as a cook/housekeeper to a family who were prepared to take her on with a baby. The job, managing an extremely large house was, to say the least, demanding. The employers were reasonable, but they entertained large numbers frequently and it was not uncommon for Mary to be up at 6 in the morning and not be in bed until 11 at night having had a full day cleaning and cooking. She was never known to complain - accepting (rightly or wrongly) that you play with the deck you are dealt. You take the opportunities when they arise, but you get on with life.

Mary was involved with the same family, parents and children, until at the age of 72 she decided she should slow down and stop full time work. Throughout her working life she never asked for an increase in pay - preferring instead to rely on the provision of a roof over her head and the pension she received from the army for the loss of her husband, as well as by then an old age pension.

Her intelligence never wavered. She reached the London finals of The Times crossword puzzle in her 70s, but declined to attend them because she did not want to be in any form of public eye, or the pressure that went with it.

Her humility, her grounding, her loyalty and her total lack of selfishness have provided for others a base from which to work. But humiliation for working as a domestic helper?? It would not have crossed her mind. A job, she would say, is a job - and if you can do something with the few opportunities you can find in life, then grasp them.

Happily, Mary today is in her 90th year and as sharp and as fiercely independent as ever. She lives comfortably and quietly, but of the headline in the newspaper today she would probably have a few choice things to say about "too high expectations", and to stop whining - be happy you even have a job, as there are many who don't.

I shall speak about it to "Mary" when I call her tonight - although I will call her Mum!

    

It Is Better To Remain Silent...or is it?

Writing a blog gives you a different outlook on the work of the media. Blogs are often an outlet - produced in many cases on a whim, but without deadlines. They can cover sensitive subjects that might not pass the censors knife, were they to appear in a newspaper or a magazine. Some governments, however, still manage to censor them by banning the site.

Unlike bloggers (some of whom are of course journalists), journalists on the other hand need to find items of "news", or comment on issues of the day, no matter what they really believe or want to do. They must attract and retain readers or viewers. And they need to do so within certain deadlines. It is a tough job - and for that I respect their skill.

Writing this blog in recent weeks has become somewhat hit or miss. I set out, when I started, with the intention of trying to put out something on views that were important to me, or that I was being asked about. Notes that I thought might interest people who valued an independent view or commentary on matters of the day. It was supposed to be regular, if not precise, in its issue date and four times a month seemed about right. Regular visitors to the site will have realised, however, that I have been much less consistent lately, and as a result although they may still find the content to be useful, its irregularity may diminish any perceived value. I cannot blame you, particularly when there is just so much already out there to read.

 One adage I was taught at a very early age is the one that reads "It is better to remain silent and be thought a fool... than to open one's mouth and remove the doubt". It is attributed to Abraham Lincoln, who is said to be President Obama's hero, but more about him later! (Obama, not Lincoln!)

 I have never been too worried about opening my mouth if I didn't know something and needed to ask, even if it might have made me look foolish. So I paraphrased the saying slightly into one that means you should only say something when you have something to say that may make a difference or provide clarity. Too often we have all come across people who offer opinions based on little knowledge or fact or who, in their own eyes, have the only correct and rational view, or who just like the sound of their own voice and don't know when to shut up.

 In the last couple of months we have been assailed with commentary on the financial woes of the world - commentary from many people far better qualified than I am. We have been subjected to a blast of media comment, the main purpose of which seemed to rest with trying to find people in the most desperate of situations and painting the most pessimistic picture they can. They have ignored totally those people who are trying to do something to help themselves. 

 As a result, I rather left it to others to express their opinions on the current state of affairs, And the opinions have varied greatly. From the overly pessimistic to the exuberantly optimistic - both wrong in my opinion. And now we are getting into the blame game without even having solved the problem.

Economists blaming credit addicted American consumers. Consumers blaming irresponsible banks. Investors blaming inattentive analysts and greedy investment bankers. Banks blaming over-eager mortgage brokers and lax credit rating agencies.  Academics blaming careless regulators and irrationally exuberant central bankers.  Henry Paulson blaming spend-thrift China. CEOs and others blaming the rumour-mongering media.

 Oh dear. Come on people - you all have some blame to share. Get over it and spend your time in trying to find some sensible, workable solutions to get the world out of this mess.

Remaining silent for any longer is clearly not an option - and as for Mr. Obama; next issue!

IN MEMORIAM - MAGGIE CHRISTINE GAUS (Née Peñaranda)

My Blog has been silent out of respect for a much loved Mother in Law and Friend who passed away unexpectedly but peacefully early this month. May she rest in peace.

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am in a thousand winds that blow,

I am the softly falling snow.

I am the gentle showers of rain,

I am the fields of ripening grain.

I am in the morning hush,

I am in the graceful rush

Of beautiful birds in circling flight,

I am the starshine of the night.

I am in the flowers that bloom,

I am in a quiet room.

I am in the birds that sing,

I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there. I do not die.

                    

                            (Attributed to Mary Elizabeth Frye)

In the meantime, the world goes on and at the urging of my family, I will continue very shortly.