Plastic culture -"we love Ya !"

"We have told people how bad plastic bags are for the environment, we had advertising campaigns, but people still use plastic bags."

Joseph had dropped himself on the sofa in Madame Pickwick's house in Syngapore's1) Chinatown.

"The government has even asked businesses to charge for plastic bags. But it's not made much difference so far."

Madame Pickwick stood smoking a long white cheroot and looking at her plants. Her place was like an urban jungle of flowering, medicinal plants. She put down the cheroot, capped the end, and and slowly blew white smoke through her nose, turning to face Joseph.

"Yes, you worked really hard, I saw the articles."

"Why do people not change ?

Don't they understand ?"

Madame Pickwick drummed her fingers on the table, looking at Joseph, evaluating what to say.

"Ritual,"

"Ritual?".

"Madame, some tea?" voice asked from the stairs. The speaker's head was just visible in the stairwell.

Madame raised one eyebrow and looked at Joseph. He nodded, Madame nodded and the head disappeared.

"What else can we do ?" Joseph held his hands palm up, "I've tried everything I can think of."

Madame Pickwick, looked at him, but said nothing, the question had largely been rhetorical.

The head that had asked about tea came up the stairs, carrying a tray of dried fruit, spicy tea, and three cups.

Madame helped her set the table. The tea bearer was about half of Madame Pickwicks age, a little taller and had classic Chinese features.  

"Let me introduce you," Madame Pickwick gestured to Joseph, "This is Joseph."

"I'm Chellah."

Joseph stood up to shake her hand.

Chellah simply stood looking at him, her hands at her sides then sat down.

Joseph tried to hide his shock  

Sat down abruptly and took a dried fig.

Chellah held out a cup for Joseph.

He took it, without making eye contact.

The sounds of the street markets in Chinatown drifted up to them.

"Balcony ?"

"Sure."

They moved everything to the balcony.

A broad couch surrounded by pot plants, some the size of small trees, decorated the balcony.

Shorter plants crowded as high as the bannister.

They moved everything to the long thin table in front of the couch.

The flat was on the top floor of one of the higher buildings facing north over Chinatown.

The towers of the financial center in the distance, the colourful houses of Chinatown below them.

Madame Pickwick caught Joseph's eye:

"How did you feel, just now ?"

"When you couldn't shake hands ?" Chellah added, she spoke with a slow melodic rhythm.

"You, you mean you did that on purpose....?"

Chellah laughed and looked at Madame Pickwick.

"How did you feel ?"

"Stupid, confused, a bit annoyed."

"You said couldn't understand why people keep using plastic bags."

"You mean habits ?"

Madame Pickwick shook her head.

"It's more than that, shaking hands is a ritual, it's what we do naturally," Chellah said.

"When you stop a ritual you need to replace it with something else. The momentum of expectations can't just stop, you need to redirect it in some other way," she continued in her melodic way, "otherwise people feel 'stupid, confused, a bit annoyed.' "

"Ok I get it, " Joseph took a deep breath, picked a date and some almonds and leaned back, "wrapping things in a bag, is a ritual. The sale isn't finished until it's in the bag."

Joseph looked at Madame Pickwick, at Chellah.

"You want to stop people using plastic bags."
Joseph nodded, picked up a cup.

"Before plastic, paper was used." Chellah looked him in the eye,

"And before paper ?"

"Bring your own bag."

"In Korea they used a bojagi to wrap and carry things in, a furoshigi in Japan. They're pieces of cloth," Madame Pickwick added.

"You use one don't you ?" Chellah asked.

"Hmm...yes."

"You had the same one for over 10 years, I think ?"

"Twenty."

"Ok, so what can we put in place of the bag giving ritual ?" Joseph asked, standing up and  walking to the bannister.

Chellah laughed and shrugged, "Good question, and did you notice that with plastic bags it is the seller who gives something to the buyer ?"

"Hmmm.... that's a good point," Joseph paced between the bannister and the door.

He stopped looked at the two ladies on the couch, "Any ideas ?"

Chellah smiled and looked at Joseph, "you got the basic outline." She paused, "By the way: have you forgiven me yet?"

"You mean 'have I got over my embarrassment and wounded pride ?"  

MarketPlace supermarket, Sule Square, Rangoon.

"Have you ?"

Joseph laughed and reached for more nuts.

"Thank you, I got the message."

"But you didn't answer the question."

"How about I answer it tonight at Fullerton ?"

Chellah shook her head, "no time. I have an hour before a meeting at three, let me show you something you haven't seen in Chinatown ?"

Joseph, looked at Mme Pickwick.

"Twelve noon tomorrow ?"

She nodded and waved them away.

She looked out over the roofs of the houses.  In the street below she saw Chellah guide Joseph to the old warehouse,

She would introduce him to Master Wu.

No telling what the old master would make of Joseph.

She picked up her cup, added some more tea, and leaned back, watching the reflection of the sky on the surface of the tea. 

1) A parallel universe version of Singapore.

Limits of education.....

"We can educate people about the dangers of junk food"

We can educate poeple to do the right thing....

we can educate people to behave better...

education  has limits.... 

What  limits? 

Let me tell you a story.....

"Is Orion in ?"

Yes go on in."

Elsa pushed her way through the heavy thick curtain, a scent of cloves, cinnamon and  aniseed greeted her.

The old master sat in his cave, he was already pouring tea and waving her to the pile of cushions opposite him.

Three yards  on his right the cave terminated in a huge opening, a sheer drop of 130 yards, with a bird's eye view of the Sea of Sand, the great desert Umi-Jabour.  They were close to the top of the cliff  and the dry air from the desert blew past  the open mouth of Orion's cave.  He was the only cliff dweller who refused to install a window. "Keeping the door closed works just as well", was his reply to anyone who was naive enough to ask him about it.

Vultures soared on the updraft coming in from the Sea of Sand. Elsa dropped herself on a cushion.

"I don't get it," she looked at Orion and took the cup he offered her.  

"The facts are clear.  It's been proven over and over that this food causes diabetes, high  blood pressure and  stroke. It's junk food of the worst kind.

We showed  videos of the victims, we had survivor testimonials, but only a handful of people came forward and asked  questions and in the end it made  no difference. Just as much of the stuff was sold."

She  shrugged and  sipped her tea. Orion nodded for her to continue.

"In fact more of it's selling now."

Orion looked at her for long time.

She was tired.  

Her work had taken its toll on her.

She believed in what she was doing.

They both watched the circling vultures. The sun was setting, already the naked  desert sky  sucked the heat out of everything. The icy cold fingers of space probing for the tiniest source of heat.

Elsa wrapped her hands around the cup, letting it warm her fingers and breathed in the smell of cinnamon,  and  cloves.  

How did Orion get cinnamon at a time like this ?

There was nowhere she had heard of where they  were  growing it.

Orion looked at Elsa, the hint of a smile on his face:

"You presented the evidence and no one cared, Is that it ?"

"Yes, we showed them the effects of eating that......sh....sh.... stuff," Elsa replied, "they knew it was really unhealthy, but they didn't change. I don't understand".

"You don't understand why they don't listen ?"

"I dont understand. It's so simple, so clear."

"I think you know why. I wouldn't listen either."

"What do you mean ? You wouldn't listen  either. Why not ? "

"You are going to war".

"War ?"  Elsa put down her cup.

"We are doing good."

"That's what they all say."

"Who?"

"Those who make war. Every war is fought for a 'great good, noble cause'"

Elsa shook her head

"No! WE ARE helping people be healthier."

"Really ?"

"Yes, really."

Orion's eyes shone with intensity.

"Do you really care about their health or that no one followed you? Are you upset that no one listened to you? "

Elsa leaned back on her cushions, she felt the sharp rock wall dig into her.

She looked out at the now dark desert.

"Both."

Orion shook his head slowly, his eyes smiling, his mouth a  solid line. "You can do better than that."

Elsa continued staring out at the desert, not moving her head.

They sat in silence.

The wind whistled on its way up the huge sharp cliff face, carrying the dry dusty, tang of Umi-Jabour. There was a raw honesty about the desert, clear rules, life and death, 'this is who I am, no matter who you think you are, I am Umi-Jabour, and you are here on my terms'.

Every child was taught this, every child knew to respect the desert.

Her face to the vast endless desert, she spoke quietly:

"I wanted to be the hero who saved the health of a city."

She looked at Orion, "is that so bad ?"

Orion smiled deeply, "no."

"Then why do you say we made 'war'?"

"You did."

"How?"

"What were you really saying ?" Orion took her cup filled it and pushed it back.

"Isn't it something like:

We have THE TRUTH,  WE HAVE THE SCIENCE, therefore you MUST listen to us: You MUST stop eating this junk food. We have the evidence !"

Orion leaned back, watching Elsa.

"Was it a fair paraphrase ?" he asked her.

Elsa felt the cold of space, from the cloudless sky. Her hands tightened around the warm cup,

She nodded, looked at and noticed  the  pin prick,sharp light of the night sky.

She turned her face to Orion and looked him in the eyes.

In a hoarse voice she said: " .. not only that, I was hoping for gratitude, to be thanked."

Orion met her eyes and said nothing.

She looked  at the master, tears ran down her face.

Orion sat quietly, his face softened.

His eyes grew moist.

After a long while Orion stood up, and pushed his way through the thick curtain.

His visitor remained sitting, staring at the place he had occupied, dried salt tracks on her face.

When he returned moving backwards through the curtain, his hand full with plates of food and a jug of water, Elsa jumped up and took some plates and the jug from him.

Dates, figs, oil, nuts, dried fruit, beans and strong spicy tea was the evening meal.

He put down his load and lit a small candle in a glass lantern. Like the open cave, and thick curtain, Orion would not allow modern  things in his private place.

"I understand now why no one followed us." Elsa said as she took a fig.

Orion nodded and examined the spread.

"But I do want to help" she looked at the old master until he stopped and met her gaze,  "and so do the others."

Orion nodded and ate some beans.

"So what will you do ?" he asked her.

Elsa smiled, she knew his maneuvers, he had pre-empted her question and thrown it back at her.

"Go back and ask more nicely."

"You mean beg people to do what you think is right ?"

No.

" Hope they will follow you then, for their own ood ?"

Else felt the heat of anger rise to her face.

No

"Good. Then what will you really do ?"

Orion asked as he helped himself to a date.

Elsa shrugged, "Actually I was going to ask you that."

Orion chuckled. "You already know the answer."

"And you are the master, to help the student find the truth within them."

"A text book quote but I will let it stand."

His face grew serious: "Can I tell you what won't work ?"

Elsa nodded, shrugged.

"As long as you still believe you are saving people, and that you have the truth, people will sense it and stay away..

You can hide your belief you can try to trick them,  put out sweeteners, but people will take your sweet bait and leave you with nothing".

He looked at Elsa, "Oh I guess some will follow you, for their own reasons, that have little to do with you came for."

Orion poured two cups of tea.

"But your aim you will not fulfill. So...."  he spread his hands palm up, smiling at her, "what will you do Elsa ?"

"You make it sound like having the truth is bad, like trying to help people is bad."

"No. The truth is the first step, it's essential.

but there is more.

If you use truth as a weapon to force people you will get paid in kind.

Having a truth is no problem.

Having The Truth usually is.

Thinking you have the whole of it is.

and using it as a weapon to force others to accept it, is war."

"So what do we do ?"

Orion lifted a shoulder, looked at Elsa, relaxed, "You tell me."

"If we didn't think we had 'a truth' " Elsa looked at Orion to make sure he had heard the 'a', "we wouldn't be out there trying to help people."

Orion nodded, leaned back and  sipped his tea.

"Forcing or begging people, I understand now. But...."

Orion waited.

Elsa said nothing.

They sat in silence.

"Do we live there and demonstrate a different way." Elsa spoke quietly.

Orion listened, drinking tea.

"We spoke to people, already, we gave lectures..." she added even more softly.

The master nodded.

Elsa leaned back, "what can we do?"

Orion looked at the deep night sky, pulled a thick blanket around himself and pointed to a one near Elsa. "My master wouldst say unto thee:

'Thou has tried the way of war, overt and covert.

Thou art now ready to leave the path of separation.  Follow the way thou hast wanted to since the beginning.  Thou  knowest of what I speak.' "

Orion  took a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Elsa had wrapper herself tightly in her blanket and watched the night sky, the desert.

It was past  midnight when Elsa woke, finding herself alone in Orion's cave.

A candle burnt in an alcove  by the thick curtain door.

---o---

Over the decades Elsa and her people became known for their work in the outlying lands.

The respect and courtesy they  showed to all, drew the people to them in  great numbers. Some even came from places that had not been charted or recorded.