My Good Samaritan Adventure
I walked to Food Town last evening, to get some stuff for supper. On my way back, at Grey Lynn Shops, I encountered two young Japanese, studying a map rather too intently. I asked them could I help to which they, in that peculiar Japanese way, refused, despite looking like they needed help – A LOT. I said were they sure and, in halting English, they asked me which way to go to “downtown”. I gave them the instructions, slowly and very deliberately so they would get it, I even repeated it all till I was sure they had it. They had it, they said. I said good luck and started to walk away but I noticed they were lingering, trying to form another sentence. I said in Japanese “how long? – about 30 to 40 minutes. If you’re fit…” They were so relieved and excited to find a speaker of their own language in their new neighbourhood. I felt awesome. How many times did that same thing in reverse happen to me in my first few months in Japan and how grateful was I for the passer-by.
Buoyed by my experience, I walked not another thirty feet, when I saw an elderly lady acting rather peculiarly. She stopped suddenly and started to sort of convulse. She then teetered, swayed and, with a great dramatic sigh, fell backwards her full length, cracking her noggin on the pavement as she went down. The wind fairly went out of her. I dropped my groceries (containing a full 12-sack of Mac’s Lager I might add) and rushed to her aid. In the middle of the drama I noticed that an Islander family whose van she had narrowly avoided clumping with her melon, rushed too – in the other direction, hustling their kids into their van and driving off at speed!
Anyway I asked my patient was she okay etc and could she move alright. She said just to get her a taxi, despite that I noticed her head was bleeding from the back and she was repeating herself, gibbering almost. She’d be in her 80s at least. I got her up onto her arse and, satisfied her back and neck were okay, got her a chair from the fish shop and sat her up, with the help of another unspecified Islander chap passing by (who redeemed his team instantly!). He went into the pharmacy to call her a taxi, as she requested though I had grim misgivings. Luckily Mr Bopal the pharmacist came out to see what was the matter and he recognized her as Gloria. Gloria by this time was reeling and chuntering like a monkey. Mr Bopal rushed to the surgery on the corner where luckily Gloria’s doctor was still in the house. He came out and I, the first aider, the first on the scene, was suddenly redundant. I stood down, deferring to the medical qualifications of the doctor and nurse but I don’t mind telling you I was a little miffed! I shamefully felt entitled to a thanks from someone. Instead, another doctor who had come out, an Indian gentleman said “okay, her own doctor is here, he knows her problems, you can go”. Harrumph!
In the space of ten minutes I had done a selfless thing and felt great about it then pushed it and done another good turn and revealed myself for the shallow bastard I undoubtedly am! Will I quit doing good deeds though? Not a chance. If you should happen to be the recipient of one, however, remember and thank me, or you’ll make an enemy of me, you ungrateful wretch!
