“So, what do you do with a bunch of boys who never ask questions?” the guy said as we sat on deck, the engine muttering beneath us as our ship headed across the (now calm) Mediterranean, towards Greece, and eventually onward to the Middle East. We were both on our way to overseas jobs, I to Egypt, he to…..never did find out. Never even knew his name. But I remembered his story. A math teacher in one of those private British Schools, I guessed.
“I’d had enough telling them over and over again, ‘if you don’t know, ask, ask, ask.’ Nothing worked. Exasperated, I knew I would have to show them what I meant. The next day I came to class with a board, well, a plank of wood, almost two metres long. I greeted the boys, started the lesson and held that plank of wood during the whole session, shifting hands to write on the board, sometimes asking students in the front row to hold it for me when I needed two hands.” No reaction from the boys. Nothing.
“I couldn’t stand it. By the end of the session I finally asked, ‘Do any of you notice anything different about this session?’ Silence. ‘No one?’ Finally, I gave them a big hint. ‘Do you see what I’m holding?’
“AT LAST, one of the brighter boys said, ‘You’re holding a board’.
“’YES’ I said with enthusiasm. ‘Do you know why?’ Dead silence. ‘Do you care?’ I took a deep breath and shouted, IT’S TO GET YOU TO BE CURIOUS! TO ASK QUESTIONS! HONESTLY I COULD BE HOLDING A BABY AND YOU WOULDN’T NOTICE!!’”
The raconteur was still as frustrated now as he was when he first experienced the event. We laughed, then commiserated. But there was more. Our listening circle bent towards the middle again.
“A few weeks later” he began, “a teacher brought in her newborn baby to show off in the staff room. I asked her, ‘Can I borrow your baby for a minute?’ she hesitated, but agreed. I took the little bundle and entered the math classroom. Every hand shot up immediately. ‘Sir, sir, sir you are holding a baby!’ they said. At LAST!”.
The young man looked out over the blue blue water. “I wonder, have I made any kind of difference to those boys’ lives? What’s happening to them now? I still wonder.”
Well, it made a difference in my life. That story, on that ship to Egypt, took place sixty years ago. And it’s still embedded in my heart.
I am saddened by people who don’t care what’s going on around them, whose comments are always met with a, “whatever….”.
Six Surprising Benefits of Curiosity is a study from University College of Berkeley (California, USA) saying that curiosity helps us to survive because curious people explore and seek novelty. Curious people are happier. Curiosity boosts achievement. It can extend our empathy, strengthen relationships, and improve healthcare, by making more correct decisions on one’s own health. And somewhere else….but I don’t remember where ….another study says that curious people live longer, and more fully.
If you are curious, or know people who are, these results will not be surprising. I love being with curious people. There is more life in them, isn’t there, when they are explaining their latest discovery with delight, than with others who consistently pour out the negative. Even when you are not particularly interested in the discovery, you are drawn to their energy and excitement. Maybe, to wake up the world, we, too, should bring a plank to church, to the pub, on the train, or the theatre, and see what kind of reaction we get!
Recipe: What do you call this?
Is it a neep? A yellow turnip? A rutabaga? A swede? Whatever YOU call it, you might have one left over from your Burns Night Supper (where it would have been mashed in with the potatoes to accompany the haggis) or inherited one in your organic vegetable box. I did. Here’s a recipe to turn it into a tasty side dish…..well, it was tasty to me anyway.
Ingredients.
1 “thing” as above, peeled and diced
3 tablespoons olive oil
1 red chilli, finely chopped – with or without its seeds. Or use ½ tsp dried crushed chilli flakes.
2 – 3 teaspoons cumin seeds
1 ½ tablespoons honey.
Salt and pepper.
Line a roasting pan with baking paper, pour in the olive oil and the cumin seeds* and the diced vegetable. Mix well. Bake in a moderately hot oven 20 – 30 minutes (depending on the size of the dice) until lightly brown and almost tender. Drizzle the honey all over the vegetable*. Mix well, and return it to the oven for a few minutes to finish cooking. Season.
*if you don’t like roasted cumin seeds, just add them at the end with the honey.
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