Missing Something?

To my mind, to miss something is to long for that thing; from what is gone before.

If that's the case, then I miss very few things indeed.  I don't even miss my happy childhood for I have no urge to be a child again; nor do I want my childhood to catch up with me today. Now that's quite an interesting thought. Never quite thought of it this way till now.

I guess if I long for anything, it must be what could have been; and as what could have been never was, I couldn't possibly be missing it. So suppose I was ... am, "missing" something, that thing must be, could be, should be (in) the future. Alas to reach it!

Just Griping

I am guilty of loafing about on Facebook at the expense of my employer sometimes. At such times all I want to do is find out what I may have missed, what’s going on out there that needs knowing. Like perhaps who said something silly on radio; since I don’t do much listening myself or who died; since obituaries are fast gaining space on Facebook (I hope newspaper publishers and TV stations are taking note given the experience of email takeovers of much of the earnings of the likes of Ghana Post) and then I acknowledge messages and maybe write something silly or totally irrelevant myself; like this post.

  

The LIKE button comes in handy at such times. You know what I mean, “interesting but can’t stop to say anything” so.... “LIKE” or just plain “don’t know what to say” so ....”LIKE” and sometimes, “there’s really nothing to this but here’s a chance to holla at you” so..... “LIKE”. Indeed many other times all the reaction needed towards something is either an acknowledgement or an indication that one associates or does not associate with it.

The Poke buttons, well, I go easy on those ones simply because I experience a slight guilt trip anytime I imagine the pain I could be inflicting on people I call my friends. However, they make a pretty useful “what’s up?” or “hola there” sort of thing. Facebook language is something I am still getting used to. LMAO for example; what on earth is that? It took me a while to understand Lol and I am still not sure whether it means “Laugh out Loud” as someone told me or “Lots of Love” as another told me or both at will. I guess I will have to return to the subject of facebook-speak some other day.

Back to the LIKE button which is the subject of my grumbling; clearly I very much appreciate its presence. It’s just that I want, need more.  
To begin with, the LIKE button could represent different reactions for me as already observed. But it’s ambiguity does not disturb me – actually that works for me. It’s the fact that it has no alternative. While “share” and “comment” are relatively neutral by way of being non-committal or providing the platform for one to take a particular stance, “LIKE” is not. LIKE positively and undeniably demands a “positive” stance.  

Why my distress? I am an obstinate straight forward, no sudden turns, as is where is sort of person. In practice that means when I say “No” I positively mean negative. When I say “Yes” it means affirmative. When it’s a canoe, it most definitely won’t turn into a ship. It follows then that when I “Like” something, it pleases me and when I “Dislike” something, it displeases me.

So obviously I have a challenge on my Facebook “passing-throughs”. There is no dislike button on Facebook that I know. When I positively dislike something I have to do the next best thing which is remain silent. Perhaps a universal sensitivity to general human sensibility suggests that remaining silent may be a sensible thing to do, but I feel different. I prefer to let it be known when I positively do not like something; otherwise how else would it be known?

For example, a few days after I accepted his “friendship”, a childhood friend published a sexist poster and tagged me to it; I shunted him immediately (“de-friend” in facebook speak). Silence was not enough for my dislike of the material that time. Okay that may have been a bit on the extreme, but that’s exactly what I mean. There was no quick dislike button to put the message across! 

I posted a story some while ago on the brutal treatment of women in some parts of our world. I “liked” the story (i.e. appreciated the report) even though I found its message disgusting and the plight of the women unjust. Sharing that story on Facebook was my way of spreading the unjust situation that confronted many women and also hopefully marshalling condemnation of the situation. However I agonized a bit as I shared the story because the only way people would associate with the very same feelings I had about it was to “LIKE” it.

This Facebook experience with the “LIKE” button is just an illustration of our general tendencies towards feedback. Oftentimes feedback is labelled as positive or negative. Positive when it is pleasant, negative when it is unpleasant. And since “negative” feedback is also labelled “criticism”, we would rather not; and now I am deprived of a Dislike button. 

I think that feedback of “negative” sentiment is as important as feedback of a positive feeling. For eg, when I dress up and ask for an opinion, I want to hear that I look fabulous, sexy or dreadful if that’s what the true sentiment is. Not “oh you are okay”. What’s that? “Okay”. By the way I have determined from the general usage of “okay” that it means, “Not good enough” so next time you are tempted to say something is “okay”, please just say. “it’s not good enough”. Someone will get the chance to improve something.

As far as I am concerned feedback is always positive even when the content is not pleasant or the manner in which it is dished out is problematic because it is supposed to be the reflection of the true nature of one’s view on any particular matter.  That feedback then should be clear and unambiguous to be useful to whomever is receiving it.

So now where is that “sucks” button?

“Oh Taste and See”

A sweet woman I know who owns a shop once tried to get me to buy the sachet water she was selling. Toffee-nosed as I am I had asked for a small bottle of water but she had none in stock. Pointing to one of the variety of sachet water brands she had, she said; “fa wei. Eye de papa”. What she meant by this terrible transcription of the Twi language was this; “take this one. It’s very sweet”, alternatively “it tastes good”. That particular brand of water was very nice according to her and she carried on telling me just how sweet and different it was from the others. Just like comparing Fufu from bush canteen and Fufu from some other eating place.

The whole concept of “sweet” or good tasting water was, well a teeny weensy bit bizarre in my view but I hastily overlooked the comment as a marketing ploy and rather than get into a debate with her about what my primary school teacher taught me, I declared I was not thirsty anymore.

When my teacher said that water is colourless (transparent), tasteless and has no smell I felt no need to verify that teaching because at the time, there was no need. It simply had no taste and that was precisely the reason why I did not like to take my medication with water and pleaded for “caca cola” instead! But it may be better not to take the characteristics of water for granted. Turns out there is some logic to water being labelled “pure water” on the streets and the invitation to treat says it all.

akuyaafriyie@gmail.com

Belly Don Full

Except in a few select places, buffets are not my thing anywhere. They have a way of spreading all that is usual and available at home most of the time. When I am out eating I want to do something exotic or at least something I feel for so I prefer a la carte. Plus bounty food mounts actually cause me much distress for I have to exert too much energy in my view to decide what to eat.

                          

I was at my favourite weekend lunch place the other day and watched with both amusement and derision; a family of four display a different approach to buffeting. Mother, father, son and daughter were all fleshly well endowed. The males even threatened popping little tangerines on their chests and competed favourably with their female counterparts in the rubbing bums department. No sooner had they found seats than the young male was off food scouting. Following closely at his heels was Mother. Mother’s report back was necessarily more comprehensive than the young man’s declaration that he wanted fried rice.  The young lady quickly chirped her agreement with her brother’s choice, not forgetting to add “and salad!” Yep kids will always be like that and that’s okay. Drinks was Malta Guinness all round. It’s the drink for all those who “don’t drink”. So anyway, Mother Hubbard sets off back to the food with the kids. They return many minutes later from their exploits, glowing with pride and joy. The wide plates were heaped with jolloff, fried rice, chicken, bread, gravy, shito, and off course salad- the Ghanaian type. Ghanaian salad is the one that comes with all the works- the basics plus baked beans, sardines, salad cream, corned beef...you know. 

Each plate must have been pointing to the stack of plates at the buffet table and wondering what distinguished them for such attention. By the way, Mother’s plate also had some boiled yam and palaver sauce in addition! Daddy looked at the booty approvingly, shuffling his feet in preparation for his turn.

As the kids settled to what was to be a ferocious battle of the jaws, daddy left to fetch his bit; with Mother in tow. I wondered what Mother possibly could have forgotten. Daddy returned with a plate similar to those earlier described and Mother with a tray of three fat bowls all brimming with soup and at least four pieces of meat apiece. As the two adults approached their seats they started looking sheepishly about them as if expecting someone to relieve them of a burden. Luckily an extraordinary waiter whose eyes had keenly followed the pair came to the rescue with two smaller tables. It was then that their concept of buffet came home to me. As the waiter left the family, he remarked courteously that they could return to the buffet as many times as they pleased. It’s a buffet remember? I almost fainted!

I really can’t fault the bounty family for caring to make the most of the money they were to dish out after their meal. These things don’t come cheap. Their approach to buffets however is not confined to those who insist on eating more than their contribution to the cost of the food before them or stretch their bellies to contain more than their bellies would call enough of a fill or yet still those who believe it’s better to leave food enough for someone’s meal on their plate rather than leave it on the buffet for those who might actually eat it.

I have noticed, interestingly that when no contribution is made to the cost of the spread, the average Ghanaian belly’s elasticity tends to triple, probably through some biological messaging between the eyes and the mid section.  I think this must be researched. The phenomenon occurs frequently at parties ... and funerals too! On courses, meetings, conferences and the like where there are usually two “tea breaks” the scramble for pies, cakes and other little eateries takes minutes. If you are one of those who chit chat and linger to the table of goodies, chances are, you have developed a thing for “black coffee; no sugar no cream”.

akuyaafriyie@gmail.com