Knowing our neighbour

In the Bible we are asked 'Who is my brother?' and 'Who is my neighbour'? And it may be that we are led to realise that, at a deep level, they are ourselves and therefore, to be helped when help is needed. Certainly in the countryside where I live, we help each other.

But do we actually know our neighbour? This question was borne in upon me the other day as I was talking in Catalan to a neighbour and friend.As a farmer's wife, Maria's way of gaining extra money is, and has always been, to make garrapinyades which are toasted sugared-coated almonds, and selling them to tourists at weekends and holidays in a small picturesque village near us. I've always known this, and seen her smiling face when I've bought packets of them for myself or friends. But, on this morning, did I, on a wet day, and after a long talk, really know her?

“Not a good day for business today, is it?” I joked, “where are the coaches and cars from Barcelona?”

“I'm waiting” Maria said, “today is the day for the Russians to come; they don't buy a great deal, they are here just to look around”.

“And your other customers?Do you know what other countries they come from?”

“The Spanish or Catalan drivers tell me. Or sometimes the coach has a guide who translates.” I persevered with my questions, curious about her knowledge.

“Who are your best clients?”

Maria smiled, “the English and the Dutch, without a doubt. They sometimes even leave a tip! The French are next, followed by people from Egypt, Israel and the Eastern Europeans.”

“And the Catalans?”

“So-so”, Maria rejoined diplomatically, “look, here comes a coach.”

And she left me to stir her boiling garrapinyades and placed the already-made ones on the table at her pitch in the square.After so many years, I actually thought that I did know one of my neighbours. Dear readers, in your so-busy lives, do you stop sometimes to know some of yours? And it may be that we are led to realise that, at a deep level, our neighbours, are ourselves.