Wednesday 26 October 2011

Bitter irony, sweet truth

The bitter irony, the sweet truth is that you just don't see things the same after you have had kids.
Obvious to those who have, patronising to those who haven't, yet true.

This is not to say that childless people don't have insight, there are some extremely intuitive people in the world without children. Of course, not all people with children are either wise or intuitive. But, in general at some point after bearing children, there come a light-bulb moment and you think, "oh, THIS is what its all about...!".

Being of the annoyingly hard-to-describe variety of life changing events, if only for the sheer depth and magnimity of it, parenthood is left at that: "life changing". I guess that for those who haven't ventured it seems a totally flimsy, at best obvious and at worst totally self centred phrase: of course parenthood is life changing, caring for someone 24 hours a day, spending the money now spent on leisure on childcare and baby stuff is hard.

But, if that were all the changes becoming a parent encompass, then it would be inconvenient, but not life changing.

Becoming a parent means that a curtain literally lifts on your conciousness: the realities of life seem all too obvious when before they were obscured. The meaning of life itself is revealed, and this unifies you with all humankind, with every other parent on the planet. War seems crazy and inhuman in a whole different way: when you hear 'collateral damage' you know its not just faceless people, it is newborns, mothers in labour, pregnant women, children taking their first steps and learning to read that are killed. Repugnant on a whole other level.

It also connects you with all those that have come before, an ever marching, overwhelming ancestral line of humans. Being born: the thing we share with all humankind. It connects you with the future: there it is, your continuing DNA, another generation of it at least.

Personally I also felt connected to all female mammals (I'm sure having a 'mamalian' natural birth had a lot to do with this), of birthing, then suckling and tending my fragile young.

Sexual stereotypes start to clarify and ring true (to varying degrees depending on the couple). It becomes overwhelmingly obvious how a women can become enmeshed, enslaved, literally bogged down by the task of mothering and all the connected caring that can be snared along with it.

For me, as a woman the real essence, meaning and work of "woman" was disclosed. A woman's body, made for this- not made just to please oneself, ones partner or the world at large, but to carry child. A woman's feelings: the bodily cravings for the baby you have birthed and sustain, again an animal instinct. Surely, this must be what it is to be "woman".

Edges become rounder, hard hearts become soft: a parents heart is forever on their sleeve, or tugging at it. Pride is numbed and humbled, the ego becomes secondary to the frighteningly urgent and basic needs of your offspring. Vanity becomes less important and even the most narcissistic of people drop their standards with parenthood, if ever so slightly.

Another, harder thing: in this new world order, where things are understood with more clarity, you suddenly become aware that up until now you were almost not living. There is this crazy sense that now it has begun, now it has started, that now I see clearly. the conscious fallout of this is a sense of heightened creativity, the world is at our fingertips, there is just SO MUCH to do.

Ironically, being a parent especially of babies or young children, you are at the very worst point you can be to realise these things - time poor and sleep deprived you invent businesses, write articles, make lists and inventions and ideas as you push the pram, put baby to sleep or clear up after another long day.

That's the bitter irony, the sweet truth is that at the end of the day, it can wait.

Greek Lamentality

A friend of mine went to Greece last year, and when he came back he said he hadn't seen any evidence of the "crisis", as they call it. He told me that the people he had asked (friends of an elite Greek mutual friend he was staying with) about the economic crisis had replied "It's not us that's poor, it's the government." (Presumably whilst sipping their 7 euro Freduccino in Plaka or Scoffing lobster spaghetti on some beach in Mykonos.)

It's a sad but true example of one of the reasons Greece is in such a mess. Snobbery. Greeks are some of the absolute worst snobs I know, and I have lived in the UK. While in other countries it may be acceptable, or even cool, to wear for example 2nd hand clothes, for the vast majority in Greece it is literally anathema. Admitting to not having money is never ever allowed, and the competition to wear "markes" (brands) is outstanding, and starts at a very young age. This meant that in the late 90s, when the age of credit and borrowing hit Greece, Greeks lapped it up. A society that once passed on its wealth through property began to borrow at a phenomenal rate; new cars, second homes, travelling abroad, and, of course, long summers with the ubiquitous range of designer clothes, bags, and sunglasses.

The willingness to spend, spend, spend could be seen in another light. It is this very "carpe diem" or "joy-de-vive" (I can't think of a Greek way of saying it!) that lends Greece it's charm. It's something hellenophiles have fallen for for centuries: the feeling of promise, that everything is possible, that tomorrow doesn't matter and that the wine will flow without end.

Well, unfortunately the wine has stopped flowing. It is in times like these you would expect such a family based and seemingly proud nation to gather together and face the economic winter.

But society has become more and more fragmented; the people don't trust the government, the government have ceased to represent the people. The responibles at the top have not faced any of the corruption or overspending accusations, no heads have rolled.

There is another unsaid issue too, which is the unwillingness of most people to admit that everyone is responsible, not just the government, that each person has had their part to play. After all, if the government have overspent and cant pay it back, so have the people. If the government have been corrupt, so have the people.

Corruption is absolutely endemic to the population. It is not something just the rich do, or just the private sector. When my yaya goes to get her cataracts done on the public health service, she has to "oil" the doctor with 250 euros. This is a PUBLIC doctor in PUBLIC hospital. If she doesn't, she may end up with the trainee operating on her, which at worst could cost her her sight, like the uncle of a friend of mine who refused. When my Albanian friend went to give birth, she had to oil the (half Albanian, so not a racist issue) doctor 800 euros. That's probably at least 2 months wages for her and her family, who live on absolute pittance, being Albanian and all (don't let me go off on that rant!).

Everyone avoids tax when they can, and the richer you are the easier it is. A well known private doctor was in the papers recently for tax evasion: he had declared his earnings as 10,000 euros per year. He earned probably more than 10 times that amount. Cash in hand rules, if you ask for a receipt, you are scowled at.

So, yes, the rich can afford to think the crisis doesn't affect them for the moment: they have grown fat off tax evasion and easy work from their uncles. But as Greece gets poorer, as people get more desperate, can they avoid the notion that they too may be sinking with the ship, or will they be like the rats they are and leave?


Disclaimer: I am Greek, so I am allowed to criticise!