I’ve been thinking a lot about this quote from the latest book in the No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency series, “The Saturday Big Tent Wedding Party.”
“Pelenomi now invited Mma Ramotswe inside and sat down – with the natural grace of one accustomed to sitting on the floor. Mma Ramotswe lowered herself to the ground. One should not forget how to sit on the floor, she thought – never, no matter what happened in one’s life, no matter where one’s life journey took one. A president, she believed, should be able to sit on the floor with as much ease as the humblest herdsman.”
A chair seems like such a basic possession – even a necessity. Funny that I think of things as necessities simply because I’ve never been without them.
We have a grandfather/grandson team that works in our home, helping with cleaning, cooking and caring for the kids. Whenever they take a tea or lunch break, they sit cross-legged , facing each other, in the middle of the kitchen floor. When I offered chairs, Gopal, the grandfather, said, “No, thank you, ma’am. We are more comfortable this way.” And they do certainly look at home and comfortable, sitting together on the floor, eating their rice with the fingers of the right hand, as is proper, and conversing quietly in Tamil. Occasionally they’re joined by a relative, a woman who works in a nearby home. When she comes she walks into the kitchen and seats herself in one graceful, fluid motion.
I don’t sit on the floor much, and while it could be chalked up to a simple cultural difference, I wonder if there isn’t more to it than that. If I do get down on the floor, it’s usually to play with my kids, so there is something of humility in it, I guess.
The quote has also made me think about what’s really needed around here … I’m not planning to throw out my chairs, but there are plenty of other things that could probably go.
“Pelenomi now invited Mma Ramotswe inside and sat down – with the natural grace of one accustomed to sitting on the floor. Mma Ramotswe lowered herself to the ground. One should not forget how to sit on the floor, she thought – never, no matter what happened in one’s life, no matter where one’s life journey took one. A president, she believed, should be able to sit on the floor with as much ease as the humblest herdsman.”
A chair seems like such a basic possession – even a necessity. Funny that I think of things as necessities simply because I’ve never been without them.
We have a grandfather/grandson team that works in our home, helping with cleaning, cooking and caring for the kids. Whenever they take a tea or lunch break, they sit cross-legged , facing each other, in the middle of the kitchen floor. When I offered chairs, Gopal, the grandfather, said, “No, thank you, ma’am. We are more comfortable this way.” And they do certainly look at home and comfortable, sitting together on the floor, eating their rice with the fingers of the right hand, as is proper, and conversing quietly in Tamil. Occasionally they’re joined by a relative, a woman who works in a nearby home. When she comes she walks into the kitchen and seats herself in one graceful, fluid motion.
I don’t sit on the floor much, and while it could be chalked up to a simple cultural difference, I wonder if there isn’t more to it than that. If I do get down on the floor, it’s usually to play with my kids, so there is something of humility in it, I guess.
The quote has also made me think about what’s really needed around here … I’m not planning to throw out my chairs, but there are plenty of other things that could probably go.
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