transparency

Tuesday, July 24th, 2007

Surprise treats

Filed under: corporate life,surprises — alison @ 11:45

I was in Mississauga Monday when I discovered that I was working in Toronto Tuesday and possibly Wednesday. I sighed (ok, I fussed) and reserved a room at a good downtown Toronto hotel for Tuesday night.

To avoid traffic, and to be able to meet my counterparts before my day started to get an idea of what exactly I was expected to be doing in the Toronto office, I took my taxi in from Mississauga at 6h30 and was at my hotel before seven. They had a clean room for me right away, so I took my key and went upstairs to leave my bag.

Hotel doors have heavy springs to make sure they shut behind you every time. To get in you need to arrange your bags right behind you, unlock the door, open it and immediately turn around to hold it open with your bum, then back into the room dragging your bags. As I was backing in I heard the radio, which I thought was not quite right for this particular hotel: usually they have the television on softly – an in-house channel with wildlife – for a little light and a little company for business travellers hauling themselves in late at night. Backing past the bathroom, I noticed a towel on the floor. Turning around, I saw a naked man holding his pants in front of him. He suggested that perhaps I had the wrong room? I agreed that perhaps I did and went down to the front desk to tell them that I needed a different room and that the gentleman I had just disturbed probably needed a phone call.

For the shock and consternation they caused me, I got a free upgrade to a junior suite with a complimentary fruit basket and mini-bottle of maple syrup. I don’t know what the poor naked man got: I hope a free room next time he stays at the hotel.

Wednesday, July 18th, 2007

Veils

Filed under: naďveté,taxi drivers,the other,women — alison @ 21:21

[Exchange with Mark, on a train in Holland]

We were settling in our seats when a vision of loveliness floated by us in airy layers of black and brown chiffon. I immediately understood the Arabian Nights tales where our hero nearly dies of lovesickness after glimpsing the beautiful princess. How do you know a woman is beautiful enough to develop an adolescent crush on if she is draped in loose clothing that only reveals her eyes? Well, you do.

Mark started to become visibly agitated. I asked him what was wrong and we had the following conversation.

Mark: My friend would be very upset if she saw that.
Alison: What?
Mark: A woman veiled like that.
Alison: Oh. Why would your friend be so upset?
Mark: She would say the woman was oppressed.
Alison: She’s a young woman travelling alone. I’d say that’s a pretty good sign of emancipation in any culture.
Mark: She was married young.
Alison: Who is she? What’s her social background?
Mark: Oh, her husband’s a factory worker or something.
Alison: I don’t think so. She’s extremely stylishly dressed. I don’t think factory workers’ wives swathe themselves in silk to take the train.
Mark: Well anyway, she’s isolated and not integrated. She can’t read. She doesn’t even speak Dutch.
Alison: [Craning to get another look at the woman, now seated a few rows down] She’s reading a book.

Hm. What a veil can hide and reveal are not necessarily what you’d expect.

*** *** ***
[Exchange with a Greek-born taxi driver in Mississauga]

Taxi driver: Immigrants have more rights than Canadians these days. It’s not right.
Alison: You weren’t born in Canada. Do you think you have more rights than I do?
Taxi driver: No, but I’m old school. In my day immigrants came to Canada and adapted. Immigrants these days go too far. Just look at the problems muslims are causing with their veils.
Alison: A veil is a declaration of faith. I see a cross hanging from your rear-view mirror.
Taxi driver: They take it too far. In Quebec they were having all that trouble because the women wouldn’t take off their veils to vote. They had to make a law.
Alison: Well, I’m from Quebec and I can tell you that when I go to vote nobody asks to see my ID. All they want to know is my address. If they don’t need to see my face, then they don’t need to see my muslim neighbour’s face either. It should be the same for everyone.
Taxi driver: That’s right! The same here in Toronto! They just look at my address. No ID. It should be the same for everyone! You’re a really nice person, do you know that?
…
Taxi driver: You’re such a nice person.
…
Taxi driver: Well have a good trip home! You’re so nice, I wish you have a really good trip.

I’m trying to imagine what it must be like to have a job where you work for tips by deprecating a group you belong to. It reminds me a little of a scene in Black Like Me where the author witnesses an elevator conductor charging passengers a dollar to kick his ass.

*** *** ***
[Exchange with a Syrian-born taxi driver in Montreal]

Taxi driver: I’m muslim but I don’t like it when women have to wear veils. That makes me angry.
Alison: Aren’t they a statement of faith? Don’t women choose to wear the veil to make themselves visible as Muslims to everyone?
Taxi driver: You know what I hate? When those hypocritical imams get up in front of everyone and say so sweetly that you have to treasure and respect women. And you know exactly why their wives can’t show their faces. They’re hiding the bruises and scars.

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