"Look at the worldly, at those who set themselves above the people of God-- have they not distorted the image of God and His truth? They have science, but science contains nothing that doesn't come through the senses. The spiritual world, the nobler side of man's being, has been rejected altogether, banned as it were triumphantly, perhaps even with hatred. The world has proclaimed freedom, now more loudly than ever; but what do we find in that freedom of theirs? Nothing but enslavement and suicide! The world says: 'You have needs -- satisfy them. You have as much right as the rich and the mighty. Don't hesitate to satisfy your needs; indeed expand your needs and demand more.' This is the worldly doctrine of today. And they believe that this is freedom. The result for the rich is isolation and suicide, for the poor, envy and murder; for while the poor have been handed all these rights, they have not been given the means to enjoy them. Some claim that the world is gradually becoming united, that it will grow into a brotherly community as distances shrink and ideas are transmitted through the air. Alas, you must not believe that men can be united in this way. To consider freedom as directly dependent on the number of man's requirements and the extent of their immediate satisfaction shows a twisted understanding of human nature, for such an interpretation only breeds in men a multitude of senseless, stupid desires and habits and endless preposterous inventions. People are more and more moved by envy now, by the desire to satisfy their material greed, and by vanity. Giving dinners, riding in private carriages, occupying high social positions, and having myriads of servants -- these are considered so important by some that they devote their whole lives to acquiring them and sacrifice for their sake their love for their fellow men, and sometimes kill themselves if they cannot obtain what they believe they must have. It is the same with those who are not rich. And, as to the poor, who cannot satisfy their needs at all, they just drown their envy of others in alcohol...That is why the idea of service to mankind and brotherly love has been dying out in the world; indeed, now it is often sneered at, for what can a man do who has become the slave of the innumerable needs and habits he has invented for himself? He lives in his separate little world, and doesn't care about the great world outside. The result of all this is that, today, when more material goods have been accumulated than ever, there is less joy."
The elder Zosima in Fyodor Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Quebec, Where are My 10 Pounds?
Upon reflection, what I find to be one of the good things about my trip to Quebec is that it can be used as a period of time for which I can make lots of observations and come up with explanations to things that need explanations. It is like being sent away for an experimental "living trip." Unlike regular day-to-day life that seems like an endless (well, relatively speaking) time of sleep and awake with some activity in between, the trip has a definite, short, time a defined space, a defined goal and a defined set of activities. The fact that it was a memorable trip makes it even easier to find explanations with fairly good level of accuracy.
So here goes my weight issue.
When not inflating my repetition numbers, I am usually navigating around the gym, looking through the windows or hopping on to the scale. So the gym is where I watch my weight, literally.
I noticed in my second week of stay in Quebec that I had lost 10 pounds. At first, I thought the scale wasn't accurate, but a friend confirmed that it actually was fairly accurate. Then I blamed the Kg to lb conversion. There must have been an error there. I thought the fact that my weight has not fluctuated much in the last 4 or 5 years made me deny the reality, which I confirmed after I came back from the trip. I have indeed lost 10 pounds during my 5 week trip to Quebec.
But how is that possible?
Stress? What stress?
Eating habits? May be. My eating habits were changed, as I had to eat almost entirely outside, and had no food that I could grab and eat in my room. At the same time, I did not spend much time in my room. My most frequent meals included: morning breakfast was usually a big meal with eggs, bacon and toast; lunch pasta with beef sauce along with a fruit; another lunch option was chicken/fish/beef with rice and a soup + juice. Dinner was either skipped because lunch was eaten late or eaten outside wherever I happen to be -- usually light food. Fast food was avoided as much as possible. In fact, the only fast food outing I can think of was to Ashton's for a poutine dinner. Even for a poutine, I noticed that the food I ate in Quebec didn't have "enough salt" so I had to add extra salt to it -- even to a food whose base is essentially French fries!
It must be the activities. There were lots of them. Many of them involved walking: I made a habit of walking on the streets of Old Quebec whenever possible, and was virtually walking there every Sunday evening. Walking was the most common of the activities. We walked for nearly two hours when we did our mandatory weekly photograph trips; we walked for 7 kilometers in total when we had a class trip; we walked from the pub in down town to our residence when the bus wasn't coming early enough...the list goes on. And then there was the hiking up the Jacques-Cartier Parc mountain, and there was the swimming, and the kayaking, and the other swimming...and the dancing, too. There were also occasional gym visits, and an intense soccer game.
It must be the activities then, and the walking, and the dancing and swimming, not Quebec, that took my 10 pounds away.
So here goes my weight issue.
When not inflating my repetition numbers, I am usually navigating around the gym, looking through the windows or hopping on to the scale. So the gym is where I watch my weight, literally.
I noticed in my second week of stay in Quebec that I had lost 10 pounds. At first, I thought the scale wasn't accurate, but a friend confirmed that it actually was fairly accurate. Then I blamed the Kg to lb conversion. There must have been an error there. I thought the fact that my weight has not fluctuated much in the last 4 or 5 years made me deny the reality, which I confirmed after I came back from the trip. I have indeed lost 10 pounds during my 5 week trip to Quebec.
But how is that possible?
Stress? What stress?
Eating habits? May be. My eating habits were changed, as I had to eat almost entirely outside, and had no food that I could grab and eat in my room. At the same time, I did not spend much time in my room. My most frequent meals included: morning breakfast was usually a big meal with eggs, bacon and toast; lunch pasta with beef sauce along with a fruit; another lunch option was chicken/fish/beef with rice and a soup + juice. Dinner was either skipped because lunch was eaten late or eaten outside wherever I happen to be -- usually light food. Fast food was avoided as much as possible. In fact, the only fast food outing I can think of was to Ashton's for a poutine dinner. Even for a poutine, I noticed that the food I ate in Quebec didn't have "enough salt" so I had to add extra salt to it -- even to a food whose base is essentially French fries!
It must be the activities. There were lots of them. Many of them involved walking: I made a habit of walking on the streets of Old Quebec whenever possible, and was virtually walking there every Sunday evening. Walking was the most common of the activities. We walked for nearly two hours when we did our mandatory weekly photograph trips; we walked for 7 kilometers in total when we had a class trip; we walked from the pub in down town to our residence when the bus wasn't coming early enough...the list goes on. And then there was the hiking up the Jacques-Cartier Parc mountain, and there was the swimming, and the kayaking, and the other swimming...and the dancing, too. There were also occasional gym visits, and an intense soccer game.
It must be the activities then, and the walking, and the dancing and swimming, not Quebec, that took my 10 pounds away.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Tip Ping
A couple of odd incidents occurred in the last couple days that involved an unusual clash between customers and servers.
The first one was at a bar close to campus. I purchase my first drink using my credit card. I wrote a one dollar tip for my five dollar drink. That's a 20 per cent tip, if we were to consider the "standard" tipping percentage. I was ready to order my second drink from the same server, when the server told me, even before I indicated my mode of payment, that, "to just let you know, in Quebec, when you make payments using credit cards, you don't pay for the taxes, but I do". So I'd have to make up for it using tips. In other words, he was telling me that I was not a generous tipper, and so I need to be one on my next payment. This struck me as odd by the obvious fact that I was being asked, in the most direct way possible, to tip more. The other fishy thing about the server's statement was the accuracy of the claim itself-- that he "pays the taxes." Usually at bars like that, the prices for drinks that you are told or are on the menu, are the exact amount that you pay (in addition to the universal tips, of course). So was the guy making that stuff up as a way of telling me to tip more? Either way, the simple fact that he directly suggested that I tip more was very irritating. The bar-setting and timing didn't encourage me to express my irritation, so I simply assured him that the taxes will be taken care of.
The second incident took place just this afternoon. I had lunch with a friend from the program at a place called Diana Cafe Restaurant. We were very satisfied with the setting of the restaurant and the food. We had lots of positive words to say about it throughout our entire stay, until my usually calm and collected friend started to speak in irritated tone and even cursing on our way out, after having paid his due using debit. What happened? Well, it turns out, our server demanded, in an even more explicit way, that my friend pays a tip of at least five dollars in addition to his $27 food and drink charges. This set my friend off to a mode of anger that erased all the good stuff that we had about the restaurant. It also made me pleased for having made a two dollar tip to the guy (had I been aware of the encounter before making my payment, it would have been zero dollars), but it raised a number of tipping questions: do we really have to tip?
At the expense of sounding like a cheap penny-pincher (I am not. I am just a student with a small pocket-- see my credit card use above), I have to also mention yet another tipping trouble that I had a few days back. This time, it wasn't the server who was the trouble, but another client. I made a remark to a client I had a small talk with at the counter that the server took too much time to take my order (because she was busy drinking and chattering with other clients) and so she didn't deserve more than what I left (a dollar and twenty five cents). This set the client off. She asked loudly and rather rhetorically, if that was how much I tipped where I am from. I told her may be not, but this tip was particularly "deserved" because the server did not serve me well. This set the woman even more on fire, and I gestured to add some money to the tip to see if she would calm down. Her friend told me that there was not point in doing that as the damage was already done and that I might as well save my money. So I did.
Strictly speaking, I don't see the point in tipping. The only reason I can think of that sort of justifies leaving a tip is the sense of guilt the consumer may feel for having treated the server/waitress, etc somewhat as a servant. Otherwise, what it is that we give extra money for? The server is doing exactly what they are paid to do: serve customers. Why do I have to give extra money to the bar tender that just took a few seconds to open a bottle of beer and hand it to me, and a few more seconds to give me the unnecessarily coin-rich change?
What about we look at it this way: this server is a hired person paid to do what they do: serve customers. By buying stuff at the location, the consumer is already contributing towards the server's job security. When the prices are set for the food, drink or other products, they are surely to include "service fees" that will go towards the server's wage. This is especially true at the heavily overpriced bars and restaurants that I've visited in Quebec City.
I never imagined that a supposedly voluntary act of rewarding a hired person would be taken so for granted to a level that it is explicitly demanded.
The first one was at a bar close to campus. I purchase my first drink using my credit card. I wrote a one dollar tip for my five dollar drink. That's a 20 per cent tip, if we were to consider the "standard" tipping percentage. I was ready to order my second drink from the same server, when the server told me, even before I indicated my mode of payment, that, "to just let you know, in Quebec, when you make payments using credit cards, you don't pay for the taxes, but I do". So I'd have to make up for it using tips. In other words, he was telling me that I was not a generous tipper, and so I need to be one on my next payment. This struck me as odd by the obvious fact that I was being asked, in the most direct way possible, to tip more. The other fishy thing about the server's statement was the accuracy of the claim itself-- that he "pays the taxes." Usually at bars like that, the prices for drinks that you are told or are on the menu, are the exact amount that you pay (in addition to the universal tips, of course). So was the guy making that stuff up as a way of telling me to tip more? Either way, the simple fact that he directly suggested that I tip more was very irritating. The bar-setting and timing didn't encourage me to express my irritation, so I simply assured him that the taxes will be taken care of.
The second incident took place just this afternoon. I had lunch with a friend from the program at a place called Diana Cafe Restaurant. We were very satisfied with the setting of the restaurant and the food. We had lots of positive words to say about it throughout our entire stay, until my usually calm and collected friend started to speak in irritated tone and even cursing on our way out, after having paid his due using debit. What happened? Well, it turns out, our server demanded, in an even more explicit way, that my friend pays a tip of at least five dollars in addition to his $27 food and drink charges. This set my friend off to a mode of anger that erased all the good stuff that we had about the restaurant. It also made me pleased for having made a two dollar tip to the guy (had I been aware of the encounter before making my payment, it would have been zero dollars), but it raised a number of tipping questions: do we really have to tip?
At the expense of sounding like a cheap penny-pincher (I am not. I am just a student with a small pocket-- see my credit card use above), I have to also mention yet another tipping trouble that I had a few days back. This time, it wasn't the server who was the trouble, but another client. I made a remark to a client I had a small talk with at the counter that the server took too much time to take my order (because she was busy drinking and chattering with other clients) and so she didn't deserve more than what I left (a dollar and twenty five cents). This set the client off. She asked loudly and rather rhetorically, if that was how much I tipped where I am from. I told her may be not, but this tip was particularly "deserved" because the server did not serve me well. This set the woman even more on fire, and I gestured to add some money to the tip to see if she would calm down. Her friend told me that there was not point in doing that as the damage was already done and that I might as well save my money. So I did.
Strictly speaking, I don't see the point in tipping. The only reason I can think of that sort of justifies leaving a tip is the sense of guilt the consumer may feel for having treated the server/waitress, etc somewhat as a servant. Otherwise, what it is that we give extra money for? The server is doing exactly what they are paid to do: serve customers. Why do I have to give extra money to the bar tender that just took a few seconds to open a bottle of beer and hand it to me, and a few more seconds to give me the unnecessarily coin-rich change?
What about we look at it this way: this server is a hired person paid to do what they do: serve customers. By buying stuff at the location, the consumer is already contributing towards the server's job security. When the prices are set for the food, drink or other products, they are surely to include "service fees" that will go towards the server's wage. This is especially true at the heavily overpriced bars and restaurants that I've visited in Quebec City.
I never imagined that a supposedly voluntary act of rewarding a hired person would be taken so for granted to a level that it is explicitly demanded.
Pow Wow
We attended a First Nations' Pow Pow festival at Wendake yesterday with a good friend. Wendake is a First Nations reserve just adjacent to Quebec City. The section of the town that we visited has a beautiful scenery rich in parks, at least one river flowing through the middle of the town, a mid-sized, but beautiful waterfall, and a number of bike and walking paths busy with people biking and walking.
It was difficult to get to the location of the festival, with seven people telling us seven different directions (most of them convincingly, a couple of them were not sure, but each suggested a pathway anyway). It took us at least an hour and half to get to the location, which should really have taken 20 minutes to get to. There was little frustration from our side though, as the walking-friendly nature of the town makes up for the inconvenience of having to miss an hour of the show.
The festival was a great reminder of what Canada really is comprised of: the diversity whose original starters are the aboriginal peoples. The show had a variety of arts and crafts display, and a series of dancing competitions. The dances were beautiful to watch, and they were mostly interactive, with many from the audiences participating.
The visit was very interesting for two other reasons that were purely coincidental as well.
In a very rare accuracy and specificity for a person you expect to meet at such events, a man with a cake in hand declared that we were either Somalis, Ethiopians or Eritreans. A conversation that begins this was was bound to be a long and interesting one. And it was. The man impressed us with his depth of knowledge of world, and specially African affairs. I wish to write more about the details of our conversation (which was mostly one way, given the immense factual and analytical superiority of the man to ours), but I can only say that I was deeply impressed to have had such a conversation in an unlikely setting.
On our way to the bus stop, we run into two elderly men who were also headed to the bus stop. We started a conversation, and we found out that they were from Maine, U.S. It was an informative encounter. Whereas I had no idea where exactly in the U.S. Maine was, I now know that it does not have a huge population and that many of its residents are French speakers, just like one of our new friends, who is bilingual. I am not to assume from now on that Canadians are the only ones that are supposed to be bilingual.
A few blocks from the festival location, one of our new friends calls out a man parking his car in front of his house. I didn't understand the exact conversation, but it led to us being invited into the house for a beer. The host and his friend were very welcoming. They cheerfully introduced themselves, and we were immediately handed a bottle of beer each, from a case that appeared to have been waiting for us: right by the door of the garage through which we entered, and the beer were cold, as if they just took them out of the fridge for us.
We were led to the backyard, where we chatted as if we were old friends seeing each other for a been in the backyard. I think the whole interaction was smoothenned-up by the easy-going nature of one of our new friends, but it also displayed the gentle hospitality of the host and his friend. We joked, told stories about our lives, made fun of someone's French or English, and took some pictures together. It was a sweet encounter, and, to me, it represented a big part of what Wendake is like.
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