It’s Wednesday and I left Tanzania last Saturday for Ireland. Tomorrow we depart Ireland and head for Romania, where I will be for two weeks. As I reflect on the last few days I am struck by how easily I slipped back into my world of privilege and affluence when I arrived at the Kilimanjaro Airport and headed for Ireland. Knowing I would be in the air for about 14 hours, including overnight, I inquired about upgrading to business class so that I could have a bed and lie down to sleep. I convinced myself I could afford the upgrade price, and so I launched myself into the land of the (relatively) rich and powerful. This means that I was greeted by name when I got to my seat, then offered a glass of champagne and an English language newspaper. I was given an IPad for the trip so that I could watch movies. There was a toiletry kit and a thick, fuzzy blanket waiting for me. 
The menu featured fancy appetizer, 4 different choices for dinner, and whatever I wanted to drink. When I went to the bathroom there was a toothbrush and toothpaste waiting for me, and lotion and soap. As I sat in my seat waiting for the plane to load and take off, the supervisor of all the flight attendants came to introduce herself to me and welcome me to Qatar Airlines.
(I must say that all this care and attention made me very uncomfortable. This is not really my world, and it was pretty obvious to anyone who might have been observing me. My seat was surrounded by buttons I didn’t know how to work. 
I was so clumsy and awkward that I spilled my champagne all over myself, and was then too embarrassed to mention it to anyone and ask for help. This meant that I smelled like a fermented beverage and I sat on a wet seat wearing wet pants for the duration of the trip.)
After dinner and a movie, I flattened my seat to a bed, curled up under my cozy blanket, puffed up my puffy pillow, put the eye cover over my eyes, and slept for a couple of hours before we landed in Doha, Qatar around midnight. The Doha airport was a sight to behold.
I was there from midnight to around 2am and you would have thought it was noon from all the activity. There was a very large duty free shopping area in the center of the opulent terminal, lined with all types of designer shops for clothing, jewelry, electronics, food, you name it they had it and were enticing all the passengers passing through to come spend money. People everywhere, speaking all languages, all religions but mostly Muslim men, women and children – not surprising given where this airport is located and it is clearly a crossroads for the Middle East.
When I checked in for this second leg of my trip, I was directed to an upstairs waiting area separate from the economy class customers. I boarded the 380 Airbus on the second level and learned that I had access to the airplane lounge. I did not end up going back to check it out as it was 2am and I had upgraded for the specific purpose of getting a bed and some sleep. Again, the flight attendants were fawning over me as I settled into my seat that would soon be a bed. Then someone came and handed me a package and when I looked inside I discovered a set of pajamas and slippers. Unbelievable! When the plane was in the air I ordered breakfast and told them what time I wanted it served, then settled myself into my bed. At the end of the trip I exited the plane separately from the rest of the passengers, and took a nearly empty bus to the next terminal while all the other passengers rode a different bus just for them.
In thinking about this experience, it occurs to me that there is a category of kindness that is reserved for certain people and not for others. The people who were so glad to welcome me in Business Class and provide for my every need were being paid to do so, pure and simple. With the purchase of the upgrade comes a certain expectation and feeling of entitlement. I am not comfortable somehow with the idea that just because I paid a little more money for a seat, that somehow I am entitled to be treated as if I were a superior person than the others on the flight. Yet I was happy to pay the price to get that extra service and privilege. But is it an issue of relative superiority that I can purchase my way out of the oblivion of economy class and put myself into the land of the ruling class? Or is it just an outgrowth of capitalism that I shouldn’t be ashamed of? I don’t know the answer, I just know that the act of buying my way into a privileged status made me uncomfortable, but I’m not sure why. There is nothing special about me, yet there I was being treated in a very special way, as if I somehow deserved it and others don’t.
It also occurred to me that there is a category of the truly rich and powerful who get such special treatment that they have separate entrances when they go to the doctor or hospital, who ride around in limousines, who never have to go into a retail store or cook or clean for themselves. 
These people rarely mingle with the “commoners,” except in the context where they are being served and waited on by those folks. The people serving the rich and powerful are being paid for their kindnesses and are never seen as equals by the people they are serving. How often do the truly rich, who live in the bubble of the rich, ever really know what it is like to be on the other end of the economic ladder? Are people entitled to feel superior to others just because they have more money and can afford to pay people to be kind to them and serve their every need? Again, I don’t know the answers, but the questions nag at me.
Ireland is a very beautiful country, with a very long history, and I very much enjoyed our short stay. The Irish are a friendly bunch, and are clearly used to having their country overrun with tourists everywhere. Even in cloudy and rainy weather the place is quaint, charming, and inviting. We have had very full days, but have been able to enjoy a taste of the essentials: Guinness, Irish Whiskey, Irish music, seafood chowder, homemade brown bread, seaside views and crashing waves on cliffs, and of course lots of cows and sheep. It’s been a lot of fun, and now we move on to Romania.
Hi Susan
Thanks for such an insightful series of posts. I am keeping up with your writing, but my comments are particularly suited to this post, and it regards the concept of “Transactional Kindness.”
For starters, I think there could be a blurring of lines when we discuss “Service”and “Kindness” in the same breath. Is it really kindness if the “service” is paid for? Or is kindness by definition (not the Oxford dictionary, but common usage) something “unnecessary” per se, but that someone wants to provide for another? In that way, the luxury on the plane – and good for you – isn’t strictly kindness. And how surreal for you after a month in Africa. (That being said, I am can relate and am also uncomfortable when other people wait on me to an excessive degree – even when it IS paid for. Not built that way I guess.)
I think another reason I used the term transactional kindness is that whilst in some cases kindness is a selfless gesture, not predetermined but on the spur of the moment or due to a specific circumstance, there are also times when the giver of kindness receives some reward. You know what I mean – paying the toll for the car behind you, or paying for groceries for someone in a store (I did that a couple of times last year). In both cases, one gets the warm tingle of “doing something nice” or enjoying the smile and gratitude of the recipient. A transaction has occurred in the same way I might buy chocolate; I paid something to experience something nice.
I am not sure that I have a point in all this, and certainly dont mean to belittle kindness, kind people, or the myriad of kindnesses we may give and receive each day – but your travels and commentary got me thinking!
Tim – thanks for your perspective. Yes I agree there can definitely be a transactional aspect to kindness, whether it is paid for or not, as you illustrated. And it is well known that volunteers get as much (sometimes more) benefit from the act of volunteering as the recipients of the act get, which makes volunteering transactional as well regardless of the stated motives. Also, I think it is possible to perform a paid-for service for someone without being particularly kind while doing it.
Is the definition of kindness dependent upon a purely altruistic act with no expectation of reward? I don’t know, maybe, but that seems a little limiting. I think the warm and fuzzy feeling we get when we are either the recipients or givers of kindness is a key ingredient to the eventual achievement of world peace. So is empathy, which we have much too little of in the world. So keep reading and keep commenting – I love the discussions!