How genius thinks in the wee hours

For the past couple of months, twice a week I’ve had to make a roughly 6 mile round-trip journey on foot to get to the local high school where I observe and occasionally ‘teach’ lessons. As an avid walker, I usually enjoy these walks, though setting out at 6am on a cold winter morning isn’t the most ideal time for this kind of fun. By the time I get to school, it takes me about 15-20 minutes before I can properly utter a coherent word seeing as my jaw and cheeks are so frozen. Temperatures at that time of morning have lately been in the 15F/-8C range, which is more or less what I’m used to from the past few years of living abroad, though until now I’d never really walked quite so far at such an ungodly time of morning.

This morning, on my way back from school for the last time, I was walking along the pavement, minding my own business in a residential neighbourhood, when a man came out of his house. The following dialogue then took place:

Man: ‘Hey, can I help you find anything?’
Me: (a bit perplexed) ‘Um, no.’ (I certainly didn’t look lost at all, and I wasn’t weaving and stumbling into the road or anything.)
Man: ‘Are you lost? Do you need directions?’
Me: ‘No, I’m fine, just on my way home. Thanks.’
Man: ‘No problem, just want to make sure you’re okay.’

It took me a few minutes for this exchange to register, but then it got me thinking (what else am I supposed to do on a 50 minute walk?). In general, outside of bigger cities in America, people generally don’t walk to get places, especially when longer distances are involved (Yes, you’ve heard this one before, it’s yet another one of my diatribes about the lack of public transportation and how nobody around here walks – but bear with me here, this is important!). This guy had probably seen me a few times and thought I was casing the neighbourhood or something: they’re not used to idle walkers round here.

The first time I showed up at the school, when signing in at the visitor’s desk, I left the spot for license plate number blank. The secretary noticed and asked me to fill that out. When I told her I didn’t have a car, she was absolutely astonished: ‘Where do you live? How did you get here? You walked? All that way? Are you crazy?’ Whilst walking home one day, a classmate driving by noticed me and offered a lift: ‘Where’s your car?’ he politely inquired. Three teachers, on separate days, have all asked me: ‘Was that you I saw walking this morning?’ whereupon, instead of answering ‘Yes, you numpty, thanks for offering me a lift!’ I meekly replied ‘Yeah, so what’. Cue same incredulous looks and cross-examinations.

So, generally, people in these parts (by that I mean the US, of course) tend not to walk long distances unless they are doing it for purely exercise purposes. I constantly see people, often two plumpish middle-aged women, power walking, clad in their pink and lime green designer workout gear with reflective patches interspersed amongst their outfits, feverishly waddling their hips and swinging their arms. Then there are the frequent joggers as well. But I never see people out for casual strolls. This was one thing – there weren’t many, mind – that I liked about San Sebastian, the couples, the families, the groups of friends, out meandering aimlessly along the promenade or boardwalk with no real purpose in mind. I realise that I don’t exactly do that when walking to and from school, but there’s still a certain overlap in MOs here.

That’s not all. Today I had an amazing revelation. This is what an over-active/over-analytical mind does to a man; either that, or the lack of sleep and the bone-chilling cold and the hazy state of mind. All that, combined with the fact that I’m an aspiring social studies teachers, and I suddenly started ruminating and drawing all sorts of parallels between the power walkers/joggers – not something nearly as prevalent in other countries, I’ve found – and the pace and frenetic nature of the American way of life in general. To crudely generalize, and without going into too much arcane detail, America is certainly more hectic and cutthroat a society than many other countries, and I’m thinking business-climate here. Everything moves at a faster pace, everyone is in a rush and life will quickly pass you by if you stop and linger for too long. It didn’t take me long to bring politics into this, and the thought popped into my head that in America, politicians run for election, whereas in Britain they stand for it. What fascinating and profound insight! How on earth this popped into my head, I don’t know, but that’s what tends to happens to warped masterminds like myself.

I’m not making any connections to Britain in this case, but it was just the first thought that sprung to mind. And now, dear readers of other tongues, I ask you this: what verb do you use in your language in the context of running/standing for election? I genuinely don’t know what other languages use, but I’m suddenly dying to find out. I want to know what the rest of the world uses, so I’d much appreciate it if all of you could let me know. I shan’t sleep until I find out.

I just had to share this within 12 hours because otherwise I would’ve banished it to the back of my brain where it would have rotted away for an eternity, lost to the world forever. But there you have it: the power of early-morning, over-active thinking. Try it sometime. At the very least, it’s good exercise. For the legs anyway.