Many moons ago, my appendix tried to kill me. I ended up having it removed during an emergency surgery late at night. Afterwards, I felt scared and sore and was vomiting. A cleaner walked into the room and noticed my distress. Her name was Esther. I’ll never forget her. She had pale blue eyes, a face marked with acne scars, and her shy smile revealed a missing tooth. She hesitantly came towards me, probably aware that private patients thought of her as “poor white trash”, and she put her hand on my shoulder. She stayed with me for the next few hours, calming me with her presence, comforting me until the nausea passed and the pain settled. I often wondered what happened to her. Judging by the way she spoke and carried herself, I assumed she may have had a tough life and was probably not afforded the same chances others had. Yet, despite the obstacles she had to overcome, despite her background and her job description, she took time out of her evening to serve a stranger. I wonder how many people would do the same for her based on her social status?
If you are a regular reader of the blog, you’d know that I recently took a trip to the Netherlands. I won’t wax lyrical about the beauty and efficiency of the place; we all know few destinations compare to Europe in Summer. What did strike me daily while abroad was the respect people showed each other regardless of status, wealth, education or position. People took pride in their work. The waiters waited on you and knew that you would appreciate them, not by tipping them (which they don’t expect by the way), but by treating them like you would treat your investment banker or dentist. It was striking that people did not view relationships as transactional. You were not polite to someone because their status could help your career, and you were not more respectful because some smart professor could help you get that tenure. You were not friendlier because the milionaire’s access to wealth could open doors for you. It was refreshing that all people and all work was respected. When people are paid properly and fairly, they tend to do what they are good at. Nurses can nurse, teachers can teach, gardeners can spend their days in garden centers moving plants around. The best South African nurses I know are sales reps now because of the way patients are allowed to treat them and because they get paid the most ridiculous salaries.
I’m not a trade unionist or an industrial psychologist, so I know there are other, much smarter people who can unpack how to rectify salary imbalances between occupations. Maybe financial renumeration should not be linked to the respect afforded to a person or occupation based on others’ options or sense of social value. One of my father’s most beautiful qualities was that he treated everyone the same, whether they were a plumber, a poet, president or pauper. I hope I can do the same.
In the late 90’s before the work we do now was even a fleeting thought on my radar, we had many corporate guests stay with us. I recall a lady – let’s call her Renown Mofokeng, who stayed at the lodges often. She was the first black female to become a partner in one of the top auditing firms. She would mention her degrees and position at every possible opportunity. Our driver took her to Sandton City (she said she battled to park her brand new Discovery and preferred to be chauffeured), where she bought Jimmy Choo shoes, Louis Vuitton handbags and Hermes scarves. She would leave her shopping all over her untidy bedroom, ensuring the staff saw the price tags. We could see she went out of her way to leave her room in a mess, always kept our driver waiting and would belittle our serving staff in the dining room. I noticed that she was especially mean and rude to the Pedi staff, people from her own tribe. At every possible opportunity, Renown rubbed in the fact that she had achieved something they would probably only ever dream of accomplishing. In one of our morning meetings, I challenged the staff and said, “Let’s treat Renown like she is the most important person we’ve ever met in our lives. The worse she treats us, the better we will treat her.” It was not fun, but we persevered. We would take her perfectly cooked breakfast back with gritted teeth when she thought she spotted a hair in her egg, or we would humbly go and exchange her Gucci suit when she said it was the wrong size (although she bought it too small), and almost daily helped her reset the aircon that she complained was broken. We spent many months showing her that we treat everyone the same, not because they are the great Renown Mofokeng, but in spite of it.
Thinking of people like Esther and Renown is the reason I love what we do here at the lodges. With Zazen’s NGO, people like Esther, who probably do not have enough money to afford health insurance, will be looked after at the end of their lives. We fundraise and plan and passionately believe all people deserve dignity. We can look after Renown too, not because she deserves better care, or because she’s insured, but because our carers see through the qualifications and the status and will treat the insecure human who had to work so hard to get where she is.
As I walked next to a canal in Utrecht, I thought of Esther and Renown. They are on opposite ends of society’s measuring stick. Esther gently served unnoticed. Renown demanded to be overly noticed, but they both remind me of the same truth: what we do here matters most when it is rooted in dignity. We serve, not because people deserve it, but because every human has the same value. Maybe we can begin to restore the balance — not by focusing on titles or wealth, but by continuing to show up with gentle kindness, no matter what.