My memory of summers in Europe is the smell of smoke from a coal-fired locomotive; the endless ra-tà-ra-tà-ra-tà of the wheels on the rail tracks; the grey poverty and desolation of the German post-war railway stations (so many of them on the trip from my home in the Netherlands to my grandmother in Switzerland); getting out at the borders and lugging the suitcases past customs and back into the train; and finally the wooden benches of the slow train of the last stretch, so hard but so clean… this was Switzerland where the railways had been electrified, food was not rationed and my favourite Lindt, Caillier or Toblerone chocolates was freely available—depending of course on grandmother's willingness to buy it for her brood, grandchildren alone there were six, two from Holland and four locals, that is, originally from Germany but they had moved in with my grandmother the moment they got travel permits after the war.
After rereading the above paragraph I wonder what happened to all the summers I enjoyed after I stopped going to Switzerland… camping in Yugoslavia and Corsica; driving a Vespa all the way to Barcelona only to find the hotly pursued girlfriend in love with someone else; or the summers I didn't go anywhere because I couldn't afford it, but still enjoyed the long lazy days…
So why Switzerland and the train journey through post-war Germany? I'm talking here about WW-II, not the more recent ones such as Iraq, or even Vietnam, which, as far as I have observed, already fades from our collective memories. What makes those Swiss summers stand out?
Uncomplicated happiness of a pre-adolescent boy, and not only pre-adolescent, but also highly impressionable, is most likely the number one explanation. Endless days with so many exciting activities that even the chores, strictly assigned by grandmother, like picking cherries and red currants, weeding the flowerbeds and mowing the lawn, were nothing but minor ripples on perfect summer days. The imprints those summers left on me have clearly outshone and outlasted all subsequent ones, even the summer when, on a Swedish beach, I made love for the first time. That was at a later age, still adolescent, but not so impressionable anymore.
The capacity to be easily influenced, is something one loses with age, and the older one gets, the less open one is to new ideas, opinions, beliefs. Stated differently, the window through which we look at the world is getting more and more opaque over the years, which thus directly affects our capacity to observe and absorb new impressions and new views. Although I implied as much in the previous sentences, it is important to understand that it is not an age-related process like facial wrinkles, but results from our growing desire to protect the self, and our fear of change and inborn laziness.
From the moment we are born we are subjected to a continuous flow of data which we store in our memory bank where it is processed. The resulting information is then entered on our (Personal) Map of Reality, which is our personal representation of the world around us. This map thus contains the information that was instilled into us, especially during our impressionable early years, by parents, teachers, role models such as sportsmen, actors/actresses, authors or even fictional characters, together with joyful or traumatic past experiences, knowledge, traditions, and our own thoughts and reflections. Some of these map entries might even be hardwired into our system, as the following example suggests.
In an interesting study, primary school children in Germany were shown a picture of three zebras standing in a group with their heads together, a fourth zebra was standing apart and this fourth one was not striped vertically like the others, but horizontally. Asked for their opinion, the children unanimously stated that the fourth zebra was bad and not allowed into the group… because it was different.
Although strongest during the formative years, the process goes on. We constantly make, adjust, distort and discard beliefs and update our vision of reality. Without the beliefs and the resulting map we would not be able to navigate our world and/or take action.
However, the map is but a representation, not the territory! And as anyone who has ever used a map will ascertain, maps are full of errors, or at best incomplete. In other words, many of our decisions and actions are based on faulty information, and thus will lead us up the wrong path.
Think of the following illustrations. Until in 1953 Edmund Hillary and Tensing Norgay reached the summit of mount Everest, it was believed that it could not be done and the foolhardy few who tried and failed, proved the belief. Nowadays it is almost a weekend excursion—in 2007 over 600 climbers made it to the top. A similar belief occurred in respect of the four-minute mile. Nobody, it was said, can run a mile in less than four minutes. That is, until Roger Bannister accomplished the feat in 1954. Since then it is no longer very noteworthy, as even high school students have managed to do so. And how is it that Denmark, a country with a population of less than 6m, continuously produces top badminton players, while Indonesia's 240m are barely scraping by. It looks to me that Danes are born with the belief that they are top players, while Indonesia has lost faith, the same way that Tiger Woods does not believe in his supreme capabilities anymore.
The above leads to the reversal of the statement seeing is believing. The correct sequence is believing is seeing (or doing for that matter).
The lesson here is that we are unquestionably able to change our beliefs, our Map of Reality, and thus our actions. Once we see that our personal maps are imperfect, our old beliefs are being challenged, and we are presented with an opportunity to change our map and the underlying beliefs. Check for yourself, what do you think of, or how do you rate, the various ethnic groups around you, and what are your general views on religion—sectarian, non-sectarian or secular? And have any changes recently taken place in your beliefs, that is, have changes been forced upon you from the outside world, or are they a result of your own observations and analysis?
Look at it like this: if you have observed the world through a pair of green-tinted glasses you will not have been able to see the colour white, as all colours will have had a green hue and white was therefore greened-out. Now imagine what startling changes you would observe if you were to lose your glasses. The primal reaction would probably be to run and get another pair… But wouldn't it be a perfect opportunity to adjust and update your beliefs!
This would not be easy—remember our fear of change and inborn laziness! And most of all it would require complete personal honesty and willingness to admit our (green and other) biases. Wow, that hurts.
Would it then be suitable for a government sponsored educational programme? I'm afraid not, as it would result in a standardised curriculum to be presented (or force-fed) by teachers who themselves would not necessarily believe in the need for a cleansing of the old maps and updating our database of beliefs. They would be poor teachers and the wrong role models, and certainly not suitable to bring about the necessary changes.
So what then? The promised Age of Aquarius (some of you readers might remember the 1970s and the musical Hair) has till now not materialised, yet. Do we just wait a bit longer, or is there anything we can do while waiting?
I don't know. But if you have an idea, please let me know.
