I’m having a moment. It was spurred on by talking with Xtine, who is on tour in the Netherlands. I was reminded of how much I like the Dutch aesthetic for design. Everything is considered. I remember walking by an alley in Amsterdam with Stephan and noticing the beauty of the fence at the entrance. Whereas in America it would have been a utilitarian chain-link fence simply intended to keep people out, there in Holland it was far more. It was a beautifully designed and crafted expressionist ironwork fence, with these wonderful talons curving down from the top. As Stephan said at the time, “they probably said to themselves, ‘let’s see how fantastically impressively we can urge you to stay out of this alley’”, instead of most fences, which simply say “bugger off”.
Anyway, I’m reminded of this by the completely opposite experience I’m having here in Guatemala. Here, aesthetics do not matter one bit. Neither does civic pride. Thus, you have trash strewn everywhere, building supplies left about when construction is long since finished, and a general lack of care about such things. Inevitably my analysis is judgmental, because I prefer the considered aesthetic. I also recognize that my position is inherently imperialist, and I look forward to my viewpoint evolving as I learn to see how the locals do. They either don’t see the trash or don’t care, and I’m wondering why.
Some of it simply comes down to economics – if they can’t afford paint, then the walls are left unpainted. But it goes beyond that – our roof, for example, is typical – clotheslines are haphazardly tied to available re-bar in a random fashion, such that the hammocks hanging up there are unusable because of the clotheslines in the way. Furthermore, although part of the roof is covered from the rain, most of the clotheslines are not under this part. The result being that the hanging clothes get soaked if the family forgets to bring them in when it rains.
Here’s my point: It looks to me like the clotheslines, the “steps” leading to many businesses, the pathways, the furniture, the computers, everything – were assembled quickly in a moment of need, and have been stuck that way ever since because no one cared to think that it could be any other way. It would only take me an hour to clean up our roof so that it would be both functionally more usable and aesthetically more pleasing. It would take half an hour to repair the chairs at the cafe down the block, or to wash the walls at my house so they weren’t so grody. It would take two people a couple of hours to clear the path of large rocks leading to my friends’ house so that everyone isn’t stumbling around in the dark when they’re trying to get home.
They’re certainly not afraid of hard work around here, on the contrary. So I’m stymied why this culture doesn’t recognize the simple things that could be done which would vastly improve the general sense of things. Then again, that statement came from my world-view, not theirs. So to put it another way, why am I so bothered by all of this?
hey josh,
yes, Holland is beautiful. I love it there. It is interesting to hear your questions about design and the appreciation of it. I wonder if the culture you are experiencing has a different logic in regards to design. For instance, what if their focus on design is on organizing time as opposed to space? Also, I am imagining something beautiful in the haphazard rush to move on to the next project or idea without considering the finish of the current one. Perhaps it is about giving up a sense of control? Allowing the anarchy to take over?
Good points, Stine. I could definitely stand to give up some of my sense of control. Always a wise prescription for traveling.
But I don’t see any evidence of organizing time as opposed to space, in fact they’re just as disorganized in that regard.
Arnie just explained it to me a bit, since she grew up in a similar fashion. They simply don’t see the mess, therefore they’re not bothered by it.
But my question remains – ok, so they don’t share my same sense of aesthetics, but why do they not see the practical things they could do to make their lives a bit better?
For example – my family’s high chair – whenever one of the older kids drags it through the kitchen to get the baby closer to mom, it makes a god-awful sound that mom winces at. All it would take is a bit of tape on the feet of the chair and it would glide without making that sound. But mom chooses to wince at the sound every day rather than consider that there might be a way to avoid the sound altogether.
To me, one of the great tragedies of the human condition is when we don’t acknowledge our power to change things. Any of us has the power to change the world, all we have to do is step up to the plate. Look at Gandhi.
Maybe the wince is a good thing ~ maybe it is a sound that reminds her how grateful she is for her children, the one using the high chair as well as the one helping bring it closer to her. One of my favorite quotes “Most people don’t know that there are angels whose only job is to make sure we do not get too comfortable and fall asleep and miss our life.” I could fix my pacemaker scar, which would be an asthetic improvement to most people, and cause less pain when the scar tissue pulls. But I don’t, and I won’t; I always want to be reminded how lucky I am, how I am forced to give up control, and to love me as I am.
That being said, I am obsessively Felix Unger organized, and use the remote like (most) of the rest. But I don’t try and change the choices other people make anymore, unless they are truly endangering.
I miss how you make me think, Shers…
MWAH!~