Not quite the follow-up to my last post that I was intending, but I'm still on the subject of fear in the fields of England....
‘Would it kill you to say hello on a country walk?’ is the
question asked in
this article today and I found it quite apt.
What do you do?
Generally I say a quiet “hello” or at least smile. Seems
to me that if you’re on an empty path with no-one around apart from one
other person heading your way, who then passes within touching distance, it’d actually be quite odd not to openly acknowledge their existence. Even if only with a cursory nod of the head –
it doesn’t have to be some big, bold fanfare of a greeting, just a subtle signal
that communicates, ”I’m human and so are you”. At the same time, I know that when walking
alone it’s often to be exactly that – alone
- so a lengthy chat about the weather isn’t on everyone’s
agenda. But a smile
will do. A smile and a “hello” if it feels
right, and then on your way.
Yesterday I
went out for some fresh air and took a familiar route, part of which is up the long
drive to a manor house, open to the public.
You can park along it too; people
often leave their cars on the verge and then walk their dogs across the
adjacent fields.
As I made my way down it I passed a lone parked car and
was faintly aware of a grey-haired woman behind its open boot – some yards away to my right. Bearing in
mind what I said above, I turned my head briefly in her direction and
smiled. It was one of those vague expressions
you cast out when you’re not really sure… not close enough to speak but not far
enough away to pretend you can’t see the other person. It was little more than a glance really. I
couldn’t even see her response as she was obscured by the raised boot of her
hatchback but I wasn’t bothered, the point was I’d just acknowledged her
presence with a quick friendly gesture as I went by.
I was still walking away when I became aware of her voice. I thought she must have had a
child in the car, or perhaps a dog – I couldn’t tell. She sounded cross, though. Oh dear, maybe it was a hen-pecked
husband?! But she was also getting
louder, as if to compensate for the increasing distance between us – as if for
some reason she wanted to keep me within earshot. Then I started to tune in to what she was
actually saying…
“…Oh yes, that’s it, laugh at me. You just laugh, why don’t you? Oh, because my boot doesn’t work and I’m having
to hold it up with my hands, oh yes, that’s very funny, isn’t it, and you think
you’re so clever and you….” etc. etc. etc.
She got louder….. this was sounding very aggressive now… really shouting. As I got further away it was developing into quite an indecipherable tirade and all I could
make out was
“you…. (something
or other)”
“(something or other) you”
“(something) YOU (something)”
and it suddenly dawned on me who this “you” was:
Me !
I know, I know, I should have just kept walking away but two things were
bugging me – one was that I still couldn’t
really understand if she was talking to me and if so I wanted to know - why? what? The other thought flashing through my
brain was that, while I’d walked merrily past, was she actually struggling with
her car and thus perceiving my benign smile as rude (in the way that you would
if you dropped your bag of shopping all over the street and someone went by
with a grin without stopping to help you pick it up)? I know, I over-think these things. But
perhaps I could make up for this misunderstanding by helping her now; maybe she
was in trouble, and frustrated? So,
anyway, I stopped. I walked slowly back towards
her and I said – very gently – “I’m sorry, but were you speaking to me…?”
Studiously avoiding looking in my direction, she yelled angrily,
“NOT PARTICULARLY!” (Weird). She was short and stout, probably in her early‘70s, apparently sober, very well-spoken, neatly dressed and unbelievably stressed.
By now I could see there was definitely no-one else in the car (no
hen-pecked husband. At least not here).
I wanted to be
conciliatory, calming. “I'd only smiled to say
hello,” I ventured, not moving any closer “I didn’t know if you wanted
some help…” but she drowned me out, almost hysterically –
“Go away!
Go away!
GO!
AWAY!”
I don’t know if I can impart here quite how weird it
was. I'm sure it just sounds daft, but
it was so bizarre. I think it felt
particularly surreal because I was simply taking a tranquil country walk in a public place, minding my own business, at peace with the world and with myself, when I suddenly
found myself on the receiving end of this abuse and misplaced aggression, and
from someone whose external appearance seemed at odds with her behaviour, if you know what I mean. She
spoke to (I mean, shouted at) me as if I was somebody else, someone who wasn’t me. I’m a fairly small, non-threatening, middle-aged female… and here’s
an older woman bawling at me to “Go away!” like I was some kind of thug. That’s what got to me, I suppose.
I muttered “Okay, bye” (no idea why!) turned back around and walked briskly home,
but was surprised to find after a few minutes my legs started to feel wobbly
and my eyes began watering. Silly, I know,
but I guess it was just a bit of a shock.
I also wondered what was behind it all, what else she may do or had already done, and if she will get the psychiatric help she needs. Something's clearly wrong.
Plus I’ll be more careful about smiling at people in the
future. And I've kind of gone off the idea of walking up that route again. Shame.
