When I first started studying history, I had an amazing and
sudden insight: people throughout time--no matter when or where they had
lived--were just like me. I'm sure for
most people this was an obvious conclusion, easily reached by everyone except
someone who had spent the first half of his life studying machines.
For me, however, the idea that, if I really studied people from a
certain time or place, I could eventually understand them and realize that our
commonalities were far greater than our differences was quite an epiphany. (For those of you who don't know, an epiphany
is that sudden moment when you are studying late at night, all alone, and have
a mental breakthrough. Like Archimedes, you jump up, yelling "Eureka, I
understand it.")
An epiphany is the second best feeling in life. If you don't know what the best is, you
probably shouldn't be reading my blog.
And through the years, I think I have been fairly successful at
climbing into the heads of people who lived during the times I have
studied. I haven't been very successful
with slave owners or the French in general, but overall, I think I have done
okay. People in the past are easy, the
people I have the hardest time understanding are the people in the world today.
Thirty years ago, my wife and I made a trip to Zhongshan,
China. This was so long ago that most
people still called it Red China. China
had just started opening up its free economic trade zones and we were among the
first to visit. This was a great time to
visit China--the whole country was on the verge of a dynamic tidal wave of
expansion, but the most common vehicles on the road were bicycles and weird
reproductions of a 1949 Ford stake bed truck.
This was a country with one foot in the future while the other was
firmly planted in a time before I had been born. The China we visited was closer to the 1940's
than the present.
My wife and I had lunch at the Chung Shan Hot Springs Golf Club,
which boasted a golf course designed by Arnold Palmer. Strangely, the golf course--the first in
China--also boasted a Ferris wheel.
While we ate our meal, we had a perfect view of the Ferris wheel, and
about a hundred yards past the carnival ride, we could watch a farmer plow his
rice paddy with the help of a water buffalo.
I asked, and my guide assured me, that the expense of riding the Ferris
wheel was well beyond the means of the farmer.
I still wonder what the farmer thought about as he labored behind
the water buffalo. Did he feel anger at
a world that could afford the incredible extravagance of wasting so much money
on a Ferris wheel while he labored in his fields using technology that was
thousands of years old?
I have to admit, the farmer is not the only person in today's
world that I have trouble understanding.
I have visited sweat shops in Honduras and watched while children made
soccer balls. Do those kids ever get to
play with one of those balls? I have had
my share of mindless jobs where the fingers do the work while the imagination
soars to an imaginary escape. What do those children think about as their
nimble fingers sew those seams? Are they
grateful for a job that feeds them even as they make toys for children far
luckier than they are? Do they hate
those children?
What do those people think about as they labor to make the
endless stream of crap we buy: that cheap and useless garbage that our country
squanders its fortune on? (You know--the
the x-ray glasses, the bobble-head dogs, and the chia pet dolls, etc.). What does a man think about while he works
desperately to make items that possess no conceivable practical value? Does he hate the people who degrade him with
pointless labor or thank them for the employment that feeds his family?
A Roman farmer two millennia ago probably worried about his
children, the fight he had with his wife, and what the weird aches and pains he
was experiencing meant about his future health.
He worried about the price of his crops, the weather, and his livestock. I can understand that man, but how do I ever
understand the man who plows his field in the shadow of that Ferris wheel?
I'm still waiting for that epiphany.
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