Checkmate

I relayed a story to Jeff while I was in Africa concerning our eldest daughter Jodi. I mentioned this story to my wife when I returned to the UK and she smiled as it happened so long ago. Last night, I also mentioned the story to Jodi who can remember what happened with great clarity, even down to the colour of the dressing gown that she wore.

We hosted a dinner party and during the early hours of the next morning one of my friends challenged me to a game of chess. He explained that he was particularly good and that it would be great to have a game as he had heard that I could play. I can’t dispute that I am a capable player. I declined the offer of a game, and the friend became a bit agitated. He insisted, and I continued to decline. My wife explained to our friend that I was pretty good and it wasn’t really worth setting up the board and pieces, for Pauline my type of playing was a bit different than what is often referred to in the trade as a ‘wood pusher’. It wasn’t that I couldn’t be bothered; it was simply that at the time I didn’t think that the game was worthwhile. The friend remained agitated and in the end I offered him the following challenge: I would wake up our daughter Jodi and although she was tired, she would beat him. If Jodi could beat him easily, then what was the point of our game?

He rubbished the suggestion that she would win, but we agreed a £5 bet on the result. This was quite a lot of money for Jodi aged 8 and given the year in which this occurred. I brought out a match play chess set, and set the board and pieces up. I then asked the friend to put his £5 by the side of the table. I went to Jodi’s room and woke her up and made the proposal, one game of chess and you go to back to bed £5 richer. Jodi was very tired, and I carried her into the lounge. Not a surprise given that it was around 2 a.m. in the morning.

Jodi was wearing her pink and white dressing gown when she sat down opposite her opponent. She promptly beat him, collected the money and thanked him and then went back to bed. We laughed about this story last night in Cardiff. Gavin never mentioned Chess again.

Table Manners

My eldest daughter Jodi and I met up last night in Cardiff to enjoy a Japanese meal and to take in a film. As we opened our sealed chopsticks and settled down to our feast, our thoughts turned to my experiences in Africa and we discussed eating habits. Elias tells us about the development of manners through an analysis of European development over several centuries. The African method is different than European eating habits, but who has it right? Jodi and I could see the value in using your right hand to eat, as you know where your right hand has been. I certainly took more care with what I used my hand for while I was in Africa. By placing individual washing bowls on the table, you also establish with certainty the cleanliness of those sat at the table. This position is strengthened by that fact that historically the poor could have ill afforded eating utensils and problems with clean water supplies would have made it difficult to frequently wash dishes and cutlery. Even when washed, these utensils may not have been clean. Therefore, the idea of partners sharing a meal may not be wrong. Yes, it is different from a European perspective, but the difference does not make it wrong. We have to consider the historical rationale behind the behaviour. The Chinese and Japanese may have overcome some of the problems of water, costs, and availability of items; by using simple circular, but deep bowls and eating utensils that are made from wood. These items would have probably been retained for individual use rather than used as a shared eating resource. The Asian development of eating habits is different than that in Europe or Africa, but again, it is simply different and not alien. There appears to be a convincing argument to suggest the use of finger eating is borne out of necessity and common sense, coupled with better hygiene. This position may also apply to shared meals between family members, and in many ways suggest that the African way of eating is superior to our European sensibilities. Jodi and I enjoyed our meal, and we both used our chopsticks throughout, only turning to a spoon for the soup. The meal was a feast, but the discussion provided a greater feast of knowledge and understanding.