Swimming
Since I am trying to improve the strength in my leg after the operation, I thought I would swim as much as possible. In Kazakhstan, there is a sanatorium not far from our house that has a pool, but it costs $22.50 each time I want to swim. It’s a great place to get some exercise. The reason I have paid the incredible price is that any other place I could go swimming would mean a 30-40 minute drive through horrendous traffic. Besides the price, the only thing less than great about the swimming at the sanatorium is that they guest swim like they drive.
I had been swimming back and forth in the same lane for 10 minutes when family decided they needed to cut right across the lane to get to the side of the pool. As I got closer, they were hanging by on the ropes beside my lane. I thought they might be waiting for me. I kept swimming, and just as I was nearly passed them, the mother moves out right in front of me. I hit her.
I thought about how I should handle the situation. I could get mad and splutter along and tell give her instructions on pool etiquette. She wouldn’t understand, and I’d be a grouchy old man. I figured the best way for me to handle it would be to apologize and tell her that I am sorry, but I didn’t see her. When I went to say I was sorry, however, she wouldn’t have anything of it. She put a sour look on her face and seemed disgusted at me as she waved her hand in dismissal and walked away. So that was the worst resolution to the conflict. She didn’t see that she was intruding on ‘my’ space, she didn’t accept my apology, she didn’t even agree to disagree; instead, she didn’t grant me even the right to be anything more than an annoying fruit fly that needs to be swatted away.
One great thing about our stay in Amsterdam is that we are near a public swimming pool. The pool here in Amsterdam costs $4.62; it was opened in 1912. On the walls, there are pictures of it being used as a hospital during WWII. Another great thing about the pool is that it is walking distance from our hotel. We reserved two nights at the Owl Hotel, planning to meet with the adoption social worker today and then move to Belgium tomorrow. After we got here, though, we negotiated with each other and decided that we didn’t want to move all the time. Yesterday, we looked around for hotels—there are many in the area—that had rooms available later on this week. We couldn’t find much—but I DID help out a Russian-speaking family that was having trouble making anyone understand what they were saying.
Today, I went to the swimming pool again and on the way home, I found a hotel for less money AND free wireless internet—the best of all possibilities.
Since I am trying to improve the strength in my leg after the operation, I thought I would swim as much as possible. In Kazakhstan, there is a sanatorium not far from our house that has a pool, but it costs $22.50 each time I want to swim. It’s a great place to get some exercise. The reason I have paid the incredible price is that any other place I could go swimming would mean a 30-40 minute drive through horrendous traffic. Besides the price, the only thing less than great about the swimming at the sanatorium is that they guest swim like they drive.
I had been swimming back and forth in the same lane for 10 minutes when family decided they needed to cut right across the lane to get to the side of the pool. As I got closer, they were hanging by on the ropes beside my lane. I thought they might be waiting for me. I kept swimming, and just as I was nearly passed them, the mother moves out right in front of me. I hit her.
I thought about how I should handle the situation. I could get mad and splutter along and tell give her instructions on pool etiquette. She wouldn’t understand, and I’d be a grouchy old man. I figured the best way for me to handle it would be to apologize and tell her that I am sorry, but I didn’t see her. When I went to say I was sorry, however, she wouldn’t have anything of it. She put a sour look on her face and seemed disgusted at me as she waved her hand in dismissal and walked away. So that was the worst resolution to the conflict. She didn’t see that she was intruding on ‘my’ space, she didn’t accept my apology, she didn’t even agree to disagree; instead, she didn’t grant me even the right to be anything more than an annoying fruit fly that needs to be swatted away.
One great thing about our stay in Amsterdam is that we are near a public swimming pool. The pool here in Amsterdam costs $4.62; it was opened in 1912. On the walls, there are pictures of it being used as a hospital during WWII. Another great thing about the pool is that it is walking distance from our hotel. We reserved two nights at the Owl Hotel, planning to meet with the adoption social worker today and then move to Belgium tomorrow. After we got here, though, we negotiated with each other and decided that we didn’t want to move all the time. Yesterday, we looked around for hotels—there are many in the area—that had rooms available later on this week. We couldn’t find much—but I DID help out a Russian-speaking family that was having trouble making anyone understand what they were saying.
Today, I went to the swimming pool again and on the way home, I found a hotel for less money AND free wireless internet—the best of all possibilities.
posted by James Martin at
3:47 PM
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