It's my pleasure

I am still reflecting on the culture shocks that I experienced when I went to America. On of them was the extent to which everything there is monetised. Every one is tipped for whatever service they render and, although it is very friendly and generous it is really marked. I felt as if I should tip someone who smiled at me on the street.

They are a really generous people, at least in my experience, but service is offered for recompense. So, for example, in my hotel room when I had to stay overnight at an airport I found the following note in my room

I must confess that I was sorely tempted to leave a note expressing my delight that I had been a source of pleasure and inviting Melanie to call by if she were ever in England and wanted to have some more pleasure cleaning for me because my house could always do with it. I didn’t, of course, because that would have been to miss the point, which is for here a cultural norm, that she was establishing relationship between me and someone who has done something for me, in order that I could then offer recompense because to do otherwise would be unthinkable.

There are some things in life, though, that we cannot pay for, and sometimes the question is simply whether we are willing to receive.