Boot Polish
Money is better than poverty, if only for financial reasons. Woody Allen
Every country is unique in its culture, food, ethnicity, economy, etc. But people are pretty much the same everywhere. There will be the middle class always seeking to rise higher, the rich looking glassy-eyed at the plebians, and the poor eking out a living any which way.
……..So… this happened to us when my husband and I were visiting Turkey on a week-long trip. Firstly, let me tell you Turkey is a fantastic place for a fun vacation. You get the rich culture, history, scenic beauty and amazing cuisine. There is so much energy everywhere and it’s so festive. It had been on our bucket list for a while and for one whole week we were in a constant state of adventure.
Our first stop was Istanbul. A historical city full of hustle and bustle. The first day we just explored the city at leisure. We strolled down Istiklal street for hours (averaged 20,000 steps!). Munched on roasted corn and chestnuts, sipped divine tea, cooled off on delicious ice-cream, dined on fresh seafood and topped it off with the baklava made right in front of you. The air was rife with aromas of roasting meats, wail of the Azaan from a distant mosque, youngsters belting out rap music on the street. And throngs of people from all over the world shuffling along. A very lively city for sure. Dazzling shops with their amazing array of attractive goods lined both sides of the streets. The prices were a bargain compared to US. Needless to say, we went crazy shopping. Late in the evening, sated with great food and laden with umpteen shopping bags we ambled back towards the hotel.
I know we were walking slowly enjoying the evening. Suddenly a man walked past us briskly. We didn’t notice anything unusual about that till we saw he dropped something. It was a shoe polish brush. Being the gracious people we are, we promptly reacted. My husband picked up the brush and ran after him. “Sir, excuse me Sir, you dropped your brush”. The man turned around. He was an affable looking man in his late fifties, weather beaten face and a balding pate. He stood a whole of five feet tall and he had with him a box of shoe polishing paraphernalia. He was astounded when he saw the brush in my husband’s hand. He gushed and thanked us profusely. This was his livelihood he exclaimed; he couldn’t survive without this.
We felt good to be thanked so effusively. We did a good deed.
He then offered to polish my husband’s shoes. We were surprised and protested, that it wasn’t necessary. But he wouldn’t take no for an answer. He plonked his wooden box right there on side of the road and pulled my husband’s foot and placed it on it. He then proceeded to pull out various pastes and bottles and brushed my husband’s shoes till they gleamed. He also talked nonstop. He said he was from Ankara, the capital city and it takes him seven hours by bus. He comes to Istanbul because it is a busy city with lots of foreigners and he needs to make money. Life is so hard here, his wife is scheduled for eye surgery as her vision is so poor. He has seven children and he has to feed them and educate them. He wants them to have better jobs than him. By this time, I am in tears and my husband too is getting emotional. We contemplate our lives in comparison, living in the lap of luxury, pampering our children. We cannot even fathom the hardships of these people. I nudge my husband and tell him to give him a few liras as tip. My husband nodded in agreement “Of course! I will give him 100 liras”, he declared magnanimously.
We felt so big hearted. Philonthropic even!
Having done my husband’s shoes, he then turned to me. “Madam, I do yours”. I laughed and said no. I was wearing my comfy slippers with 2 strap, what was he going to polish on that? But he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “I give madam pedicure”. I was dumbfounded! What? Pedicure! Here! On the side of the road! This I’ve got to see. He then grabbed my foot and placed it on his rickety wooden box. I was startled. Thank God I was wearing pants! He took out a tube of something which had a pungent odor and applied it to the thin straps of my slippers. “I will give him 150 liras”. My husband announced grandly. I smiled on indulgently feeling very smug and altruistic. I now know how Melinda Gates feels!
Once my two tiny strips were polished, he said it’s done. I was like, what? All he did was put some goop on those strips. I felt deprived. I was expecting at least a little foot massage or toe nails buffing! But…. nevertheless the euphoria of benevolence still enveloped us. My husband then took out his wallet grandly and started counting the liras. At this point I was expecting the shoe shiner to be overwhelmed with our generosity and to refuse the money, maybe say that he was returning the favor etc. But we were just going to insist. Because we were nice people. When my husband placed the money in his hands, the man was suddenly all business and said it’s 200 liras. We stopped short. Baffled. He explained 120 liras for the gentleman and 80 liras for madam. My husband and I looked at each other, bewildered. He checked the money in my husband’s hands and proceeded to extract the exact amount himself and then, lo and behold! before we had a chance to recover, he brusquely picked up his equipment and sped away.
We stood there for a good few minutes staring at his receding back as awareness slowly dawned upon us. We had just been scammed. Together, we burst out laughing. For a moment we were feeling so good about ourselves, about the humble shoe polisher and here, the apparently smart intelligent American tourists were just conned. We couldn’t stop laughing. It was okay though… really. It wasn’t more than $10 for us but it must mean a lot to him for him to do this.
When you don’t have much and people depend on you, you do what you have to.
We didn’t begrudge him. We did feel stupid and that tiny scathing feeling of being used but……it is what it is.
We were in Istanbul for four days and we had at least two more brushes drop in front of us by fast walking shoe shiners. But by then we were seasoned tourists and duly humbled.
So, the next time you are in Istanbul….don’t pick up that shoe polish brush.
Sonia H Kumar.
