Thought Picnic: In an unfamiliar world

Circumstances of uncertain futures

Certain circumstances bring you into environments of almost outer worldliness, ones that never seemed to appear on the radar of your future years long before those situations become your reality.

I probably have had my fair share of such introductions to being given a hand for all sorts of situations where you find yourself vulnerable most of which has been in just the last two years.

I could well remember my falling so ill in Berlin that at the check-in counter the personnel had to come round to place my luggage on the weighing machine and then call for a wheelchair service to take me from lounge to aircraft and I was met by a greeting service at my destination.

Using help in helplessness

That was the easiest of them all, when I lay sick in hospital, I had literally lost every assertiveness of ego to defer to almost anything that was told me, there were times a spark of the old self materialised and the nurse would marvel as to how much I seemed to understand what was going on even if I could hardly help myself.

From a point of fierce independence, I have had to rely on a lot more people and services, learning as I go along that to access certain entitlements, I need to accept certain indignities, most of all the loss of pride and that does hurt to varying degrees.

They appear to care

However, I cannot but accept the fact that many of those on the other end listening to my tales are genuinely interested, quite sympathetic and ready to help.

In the many cases where I have had no knowledge of the workings of the welfare state, I have been informed that much of what I have contributed in times before when I was in rude health and in what was a pinnacle of ability and earning power counts towards the basis for assistance in the leanest and most vulnerable times.

Somehow, the hurdles just seem to be higher and more difficult for those that have generally been independent and oblivious of how the system works.

Singling the Double-Dutch of the system

Today, it started with a group session of making sense of liabilities, getting documents in some particular order and then having the experts wade through the maze of bureaucratic snags that make an impossibility of the circumstances that brought us here in the first place.

Much as I followed the whole introduction in Dutch, those of us not fluent in the lingo were expected to bring our own interpreters; I was not able to book one and I still found the personnel amenable enough to converse in English and take me through the processes.

The checklist of documents required to populate the folder provided differed from the list that came with the letter of invitation, there is much filing to be done back home.

It was worthwhile

I also got caught in the minutiae of understand some basic Dutch words where I thought a replacement service was a disconnection service – it does not get any easier and it informs the fact that formal Dutch classes are mandatory the moment I get myself back on my feet, the rudimentary stuff I have is just too warped and built on shaky foundations to be of value.

What I would take away from this morning’s session is not entirely clear but as the sun shines brightly out there, there is the hope that some direction will be provided. At least, as I left, I was told of the possibilities out there that I might not have availed myself off, they will do some research and help get the issues on track – it looked like a productive morning.

At my most vulnerable

Unable and incapable

I found myself in a place I never want to return to again, suffering from shingles but thankfully without the pain or the itch I was weakened to the point of vulnerable helplessness.

My being in Berlin for a long weekend only had me do something useful for just 2 of the days I was there, my hotel room was more a recluse but I had the pleasure of meeting Olumide of Loomnie.com though warning him first that if he had never had chicken pox before I was a seriously great risk.

We went to a Nigerian restaurant called Fifty-Fifty at Mainzerstraβe 17, not too far from Boddingstraβe underground station, unfortunately their website does not reflect their activities.

The atmosphere was mellow, the music was good and the food was excellent, the service was also very nice, our outlet here in Amsterdam just cannot compare on all those levels – one will return there but rarely to the one in Amsterdam.

On Sunday, I was completely put out, I had strength for nothing, my flight back home the next day was to be very late because I had planned to do things on the Monday – I could not face that tomorrow that I had to book an earlier flight back home.

It was becoming so obvious that I needed help, my taxi driver walked up to get my luggage, my voice was failing from weakness, and this was not I.

All the help I could get

When I got to the airport, the check-in for my flight was running late, at one time, I was crouched down, then kneeling down; the check-in clerk came round from his side of the desk to lift my luggage unto the belt.

After I was checked-in, the clerk asked if I would like some assistance to get to the plane, in my condition I obliged and at that point I realised, I had never been so vulnerable and helpless like that ever.

I like my comforts, I like service, but they are all as a result of a strong disposition for things being taken care of with expertise, professionalism and well, service.

A realisation in self-pity

As I turned away to go to the lounge, I just broke into tears, the clerk had phoned up the lounge to take care of me, arranged a wheelchair service to take me to the plane, arranged for a caddy to meet up with me in Amsterdam and help me to whatever transport I required.

When I got to the lounge, the lady was expecting me, as I sat down she came over to serve me a drink which again exposed my vulnerability, but she was cool about it and said she was there to help.

45 minutes later, the wheelchair arrived, I was through customs sat in the wheelchair, into a goods lift and then onto a bus because the plane was not on any of the airport gangways. I was first on the plane and others joined some minutes later.

An inaccessible airport

I could not eat but I drank lots of tonic water, the flight was smooth and comfortable, when we arrived in Amsterdam, I had to wait for most passengers to get off. The airport caddy took my rucksack and walked me to the concourse vehicle that I rode to the lift near baggage reclaim.

Interestingly, I have noted many times before, the airport at Schiphol is not fully accessible, I do wonder how those who are more incapacitated make it round the airport.

The caddy helped collect my suitcase and walked me to the taxi-rank where I got a taxi home. My neighbours let me in and prepared a pot of soup for me.

The night was quite easy, one thing I have noticed is when I am ill, I just have periods where I am completely helpless and suddenly I feel strengthen and able to do usual things.

The shingles are now moving past the blister stage to the drying-up stage, I have been spared the pain or maybe I have a higher pain threshold than I thought I had.