A few days ago, the friend of my sister invited me to a gallery. She wanted me to see the works of a certain sector and write about its artists. Wishing to be of help and of use to society ( a case of noblesse oblige? but that sounds so haughty. whatever) I accepted the invitation even at such short notice.
She picked me up at 3 in the afternoon, hardly an auspicious time given the heat and the traffic but I tried to smile, and I think, succeeded. Then she talked about all sorts of sorry experiences she had about things borrowed and not returned, the dwindling volunteerism, how small my chair looked for me, etc. She asked if I wanted a drink as she drank from the container she brought. I demurred.
We reached our destination whose location she had described to me earlier and which I said I had never seen which made her give me a look of incredulity. Because I do reach that level of the building, I told her. Well, I realized I was not experiencing a blind spot all this time as that area had never been crossed by us. And I told her so.
When I saw the things they were selling, many of them hand painted, I asked if I could make a suggestion: to have other themes on them because they were nice, true, but would appeal to a limited market, i.e., foreigners and balikbayans or those wishing to buy pasalubong for family, friends and relatives abroad. After perhaps an hour or so, I was hoping to be offered a drink (water would have been okay), but nothing. I didn’t want to buy as the host might be offended if I did. I’m not sure. She’s not Filipino. Eventually, I made moves to go home and did. She said we should go to a town next week to see the artists. In at least three different locations so I could interview them.
I thought about it. Should I go? Am I obliged to go? I would like to help, but on my own terms. I had prepared a questionnaire which I thought should suffice — someone else can go interview them and I do the write-ups. But the host wants me to get a feel of where these artists are coming from. They are of my ilk.
Yesterday, I wrote and told her I wasn’t inclined to go on the trip. It can be very uncomfortable in the vehicle, getting off, getting on, in this heat and traffic. Before she must have read my email, she asked if I could go on Tuesday or Thursday next week. I told her I had emailed her.
Now, almost 16 hours later, no word from her.
I guess that ends what would have been a case of leaving my comfort zone in my wish to help. I now realize that leaving my comfort zone is something I should be comfortable about, rather than pushed to do so. That way I won’t be resentful, that way I’ll be happy. Selfish? Self-absorbed?
Have I finally learned to say “No”?
Finally…