19 December 2012

Small Kindnesses

As I've traveled, some of my most memorable moments have been the small kindnesses bestowed upon me by complete strangers.  It gives me hope for this tornado of a world we are now living in and reminds me that regardless of what is splashed throughout the media most people really are good at heart.

I can think of many examples since my first venture in 2007, but I am going to choose one to share from each country I have lived in.  Here is the first.

Italy


I was headed home to Siena, alone, via train from Cinque Terra.  I had been exploring the five cities that are woven within the coastal cliffs with a few friends but opted to go home one day early.  If I am recalling correctly I believe it was for some extra study time before an exam.

My route from Cinque Terra to Siena involved a few train changes, and the last change on the itinerary that had been printed out for me looked slightly different than the others, or than any of the layovers we had when traveling in the opposite direction.  I could not figure out why until I reached the station and inquired at the ticket window.  Apparently, the last leg of the trip would occur on a bus.

I should mention here that I would be arriving in Siena at about one a.m., and was reaching this final layover at about 11:30.  It was also my first time traveling independently within Italy.  I had signed up for the study abroad program alone, but met a fellow student at the Portland airport, and upon arrival in Siena immediately made some more wonderful friends; all of my transportation thus far had included at least a couple of them.  

After I showed him my itinerary, the man in the ticket window pointed toward the rear of the train station.  I went outside and looked around for a bus.  Nothing but some pedestrians, cars and a large white van across the parking lot. I had about twenty minutes until departure time, so I figured it just hadn't arrived yet.

One of the most useful lessons I've learned traveling is that sometimes, you just have to hope it works out.

So I was standing around, hoping it would work out, when I was approached by an Italian man.  A kindly face and dressed Italian casual, I would say he was in his late fifties, early sixties.  He struck up a conversation and we spoke in a combination of his elementary English and my barely above elementary Italian.

I learned that he had lived in Australia for awhile and that his daughter was currently studying there.  He liked it very much but he preferred Italy because there is nothing better than Italian food.  I can't remember what else we discussed, but I know soon I was starting to panic because my bus had not yet shown up.

He asked where I was going and looked at my itinerary.  He walked around and asked a few people, then came back to me and pointed to the white van across the parking lot.  "I think this is your bus," he said.  Whaaa?  White van, no back windows... not an ideal method of travel for a young girl on her own.

I think he saw my doubt and hesitation, because he walked over to the van with me to check it out.  There were several people (who looked normal enough, but who really can tell?) already seated in the van.  He spoke with the driver then turned to me and confirmed this was indeed my ride to Siena.

I thanked him profusely, got in the front seat (which was now all that was left) and said goodbye.

I don't know this man's name.  I don't remember what he was doing at the train station.

I do know that without him, without his generosity and concern for a stranger, I would never have realized that the creepy white van at the far end of the parking lot at midnight was my ride home.

While this is the main point of the story, the night hasn't quite ended.  As the van continued to stop and one by one each passenger alighted, I was soon alone.  Just me and the driver.  After midnight.  I was exhausted, but too paranoid and frightened to let myself doze.  "Please let me end up in Siena, please let me end up in Siena" was my mantra as we drove in silence.

Sure enough, or luckily enough, at about one in the morning the van dropped me off near the fortress on the edge of town.  It was about a five minute walk home from there, but as I stepped out of the van and thanked the driver I noticed light, a lot of light, coming from the center of the fortress and many people going in and out.  There were also lights strung up between telephone poles like they often do over the street at Christmas.

Okay.  Why not?  It's already been a night that has departed from the norm, why not cap it off.  I headed in to check it out.  Inside the fortessa a small carnival was going on, complete with rides, games, food and carnies.  Later, when I came back to explore with friends, we discovered the highlights ~ the chair twister (the one where you sit in a chair and it swings you around) and a haunted house ride.  Got some fantastic pictures out of that.

At the moment, however, I was too tired to venture out beyond the main entrance area.  I spotted a booth making crepes, and then noticed it made crepes with nutella.  I don't care how full or tired you are, you never, ever, pass up a nutella crepe.  I added sliced bananas to my order of nutellaey goodness, paid, and took one last look at the bizarre, colorful turn my night had taken before heading beyond the walls and back onto the dimly lit path to my apartment.

P.S.  I got some of the worse stomach cramps ever from that damn crepe.  Still totally worth it.  Long live Nutella.  


 

16 December 2012

How Important is a Name? (update...)

So I asked my followup questions at the first opportunity, and these were the responses:

How do they come up with the new name to ensure that one also does not have a bad fortune attached to it?
My co-teacher and her mother looked online.  Apparently there are many resources for this potential problem.

How many times might something like this happen?
Usually only once, but she has a friend that has changed her name three or four times.

I'm assuming they just change the first name, but I want to double check.
Yes, their family name stays the same.

My co-teacher added that she knows the whole concept sounds silly, but names are really influential and very important in Korea, and even if she thinks it sounds superstitious and illogical she also knows that it is valid and meaningful in her culture. 

How Important is a Name?

Today I discovered something very interesting about the Korean culture.

The topic came up, as the good ones often do, when my coteacher asked me a question about American culture.

"Are names really important?"

I told her yes, but the how we treat that importance is different than in Korea.  For example, it's rude to call a teacher by their name in Korea because a name is a special privilege.  In America, it would be rude to call the teacher, "Teacher!" because names are important in a different way--not acknowledging someone's name is seen as impersonal and sometimes as a direct affront.  People also often take pride in their family name, because it represents their personal and familial history. 

She then proceeded to tell me why she asked this question.  She said that in Korea, names are very influential on a persons life and sometimes an individual will bring a name to a fortune teller to see what future that name contains.  If the future is not a welcome one, the name is then tainted and the individual will most likely take measures to change their name.  She said to change your name is very easy in Korea.  She followed up by expressing she knew that this was just a superstition, but it is often a superstition that is valued enough to take precautionary actions.

Apparently this last weekend, her mother went to a fortune teller and brought her brother's name into question.  The fortune told was not preferred, so her mother will change her son's name.  My co-teacher's brother is in college. 

I asked then will everyone have to call him by this new name?  He has to tell his friends and coworkers and acquaintances that his name has changed?  The answer was yes--because if everyone acknowledges and uses this new name, it is believed that the bad fortune will change.

I have some follow up questions that I am planning on asking as soon as I get the chance:

How do they come up with the new name to ensure that one also does not have a bad fortune attached to it?
How many times might something like this happen?
I'm assuming they just change the first name, but I want to double check.

What is in a name depending on the culture and/or belief system is such a fascinating concept.  In Thailand, I was told that parents often give their children "ugly" nicknames because they believe that the spirits will not bother an ugly child.  All of my students had nicknames, and this superstition was definitely proven in a few.  For example, one girl was called "Moo" which means "pig" in Thai.  Or there was another with a nickname that meant "Baby Whale."  (Both of these students were obese, which brings up a whole new set of questions about the impact of a name.)

Most of my students had positive, or neutral, nicknames so I'm assuming this is a superstition not all Thai families ascribe to.  Some of them may have seemed odd, certainly, but not necessarily negative.  Boat, Bank, Ploy, Beer, Meow, Viju, June, Opor, and Wei to name a few.

I've included a few quotes about names that I thought were relevant and provided something to think about.

“What's your name,' Coraline asked the cat. 'Look, I'm Coraline. Okay?'
'Cats don't have names,' it said.
'No?' said Coraline.
'No,' said the cat. 'Now you people have names. That's because you don't know who you are. We know who we are, so we don't need names.”
~ Neil Gaiman, Coraline

“I sound contemptuous, but I am not. I am interested--intrigued even--by the way time erases real lives, leaving only vague imprints. Blood and spirit fade away so that only names and dates remain.”
~ Kate Morton, The House At Riverton 

“A name can't begin to encompass the sum of all her parts. But that's the magic of names, isn't it? That the complex, contradictory individuals we are can be called up complete and whole in another mind through the simple sorcery of a name.”
~
Charles de Lint, Dreams Underfoot 

“We seldom realize, for example that our most private thoughts and emotions are not actually our own. For we think in terms of languages and images which we did not invent, but which were given to us by our society.”
~ Alan Wilson Watts

“Call him Voldemort, Harry. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself.”
~ J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone 

“I’m not my name. My name is something I wear, like a shirt. It gets worn. I outgrow it, I change it.”
~ Jerry Spinelli

“Do you really want to know where we come from?" she said. "In every century, in every country, they'll call us something different. They'll say we're ghosts, angels, demons, elemental spirits, and giving us a name doesn't help anybody. When did a name change what someone is?”
~ Brenna Yovanoff, The Replacement