Essay Adding value to tangible commodities By Kit Pancoast Nagamura	フレームで見る  英文をプリントする  脚注をプリントする
物の価値を高めるのは… 母親からプレゼントされたお気に入りのスカーフを身に付けて、筆者があるイベント会場を訪れたところ、そのスカーフを褒めてくれた人がいた。 筆者の頭には、かつてワシントンD.C.でタクシーに相乗りした女性の顔が思い浮かんだ。

Just before I became a teenager, I traveled by myself to Washington D.C. In that euphoric state one feels being young and out exploring the world alone, I struck up a conversation at the airport with a woman visiting the U.S. from Thailand. We shared a taxi into the city together, and en route, I noticed she was wearing a lovely bracelet in silver. The piece was Nielloware, intricately engraved with dancers and elephants on a black background, made by her mother. She took the jewelry off and showed it to me. I admired the craftsmanship profusely, and in doing so, started an unexpected chain reaction.

When the taxi stopped to let the Thai woman out at a busy intersection, she flung the door shut behind her, taking off without the bracelet. I immediately rolled down the window and called out that she'd forgotten her mother's gift. "I want you to have it," she called back, and before I could protest, she melted into the crowd. If I had been older or braver, I would have leapt out and run after her. Instead, I sat in the cab, the bracelet heavy in my hands, bewildered.

Later, my parents explained to me that in some cultures, if you admire a person's possession, that person might feel compelled, perhaps spiritually, to give it to you. A wave of guilt rushed through me. Nonetheless, I learned that an action viewed as polite or merely conversational in my culture, such as praising someone's belongings, could have unexpected ramifications in another. I also dimly understood that one could relinquish a cherished object into the hands of an unknown person, and shift the world slightly in a positive way. That day, I went from a child's perspective of "stranger = danger" to a new idea: "stranger = changer."

Over the holidays last year, my family and I vacationed in Thailand. My mother, who traveled thousands of miles to join us in Bangkok, bought me a hand-woven silk scarf there. It was a fabric of superb artistry, the pattern shimmering and wild, and I loved it.

We returned to Japan, and the evening my mother caught her flight home to the states, I attended an art opening wearing the scarf, symbolically keeping my mom's warmth close to me. The artist holding the exhibition, however, saw the scarf and — could you see this coming? I certainly didn't! — praised it. I had an immediate vision of the woman in the cab decades ago. I can't say whether it was the Thailand connection, mothers, memories or karma that triggered my actions, but I found myself giving my beloved scarf to the artist. He was mildly shocked at first, then elated. So was I, actually, and wondered how I'd tell my mom.

The truth of the matter is, I probably learned this kind of giving from my mom. "What goes around, comes around" is a familiar expression, and perhaps I was simply completing a cycle of this sort. But more than that, I've found that sometimes giving someone an object you value ironically increases the value of that object, securing it as a much greater treasure in your heart than it was in your hands.

Shukan ST: February 19, 2010

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