I had this experience two nights ago at the hotel that warmed my heart but also made me think about the stark inequality in this world. I rang room service and ordered two small bottles of water. A while later, the doorbell to my room rang, and I answered. When I order room service at night, this one particular young man usually brings the food or drinks to my room. He walks right in and places my order on the table. I know he loves getting the job to deliver to me because I always tip $5.
But on this particular night, it was a different young man at the door. He looked shy, and he didn’t move to walk into my room; he just stood at the door holding a tray with the two bottles of water. I signed for the water, but then I asked him to wait a moment. I went and grabbed five one-dollar bills and gave them to him. He said thank you and left.
About ten minutes later, the phone in my room rang, and it was the young man who had just delivered my water. In broken English, he said he was sorry to bother me, but he wanted to know if the money I gave him was to pay for the water. I said, "No, I signed for the water, and the money was a tip for you." He sounded like he couldn’t believe it and asked, "Are you sure?" I said, "Yes, darling, I’m sure."
You see, it is moments like this that make me realise how unfair and unjust the world is. This young man likely works six days a week and earns maybe one or two hundred US dollars a month. He works in this beautiful hotel, constantly at the beck and call of guests he likely perceives as rich, living a life he will likely never be able to achieve. He is getting a firsthand look at a world he will never truly be a part of. He sees people staying in these luxurious rooms, eating exquisite food, drinking fine wines and cocktails, yet he can only dream of experiencing these things one day.
Why is it that I was born in a part of the world that affords me the luxury to save enough money to travel to faraway lands like Cambodia and have extra money to explore the local sights, experience the local culture, and eat the local food—all while unintentionally flaunting to the locals that I have just a little more money than they do? I do have more money than they do, and I know it probably sounds like I have a lot of money in general, especially with things like flying business class. But I really don’t. In Australia, I have a lower socio-economic status, and I often go without things I want.
This kind of reminds me of the situation with Nanny—she made a life and an income off of our lives. It’s similar to the people here; their livelihoods are dependent on ours.
Last night, I didn’t need anything from room service because I had already eaten, but I ordered a bowl of chips because I wanted to see that young man again. I wanted to talk to him. But when the doorbell rang, it was the usual guy again.
I talk about the equality of man. I genuinely believe we are all equal, and I have demonstrated this throughout my life in the way I’ve interacted with people. I have met two Prime Ministers, and I promise you, I spoke to them in the exact same way I have spoken to homeless people I’ve met on the street. I truly believe we are all the same, and I think we all deserve the same opportunities in life, especially in education and employment.
But then I come here, and I see the local people put me and all the other tourists on a massive pedestal. In the hotel and with my driver and guide, they likely do this to earn better tips, but even the people you meet just passing through—they press their hands together, bow their heads, and talk to you as if you are royalty. I don’t like it. I’ve experienced it in Tanzania to an even greater extent, but this young man who called me about the tip has made me think a lot about how unfair the world is.
Five dollars is such a huge amount of money to him—but why? Why was he born into a world where he has to work so hard just to earn a small wage? I don’t know if he has his own family yet—he seemed quite young—but that time will come for him, and he will feel even more pressure to succeed at his job and to keep it.
I think when I talk to people about the idea of a Universal Basic Income (UBI), it must sometimes sound like I don’t know what I’m talking about. In many ways, I don’t completely understand it yet, but the way I see it, the government would replace a complex social security system with a simple, non-means-tested income for everybody to cover costs like housing, food, and general living expenses.
When I get back to Australia, I am going to learn more about Universal Basic Income because I feel passionately that something like this should be implemented globally as a matter of priority. I know there is an argument that a system like this would deter people from working, but I disagree. I think most people have a natural drive to do something with their lives. The Universal Basic Income wouldn’t be enough for a luxurious life, so there would still be an incentive to work and earn money for things the UBI wouldn’t cover, like a better car, house, or travel.
But if everybody had the same amount—if everyone was given a guarantee as a birthright that they would never be without shelter, food, or the basic necessities needed to live a decent life—then I think we, as the human race, would fulfil our destiny to allow every single human being born into this world a realistic chance at living a safe, full, and enriched life.
I didn’t sleep much last night because my mother has arrived in London, and my brother contacted me to say he’s worried about her. He mentioned concerns about her mobility and memory, and it’s made him think something might be seriously wrong. Her mobility is an issue, but I believe her memory lapses are just a normal part of getting older—she is 78 years old, after all. Still, because he was worried, it made me extremely worried, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it which is why I couldn't sleep.
Back in Adelaide, I spend a lot of time with her, and I’m concerned about her being in the UK without me there to give her the "luxury treatment"—paying her bills, fixing her phone, working the television for her, and making phone calls on her behalf. Don’t get me wrong, she’s not an incompetent idiot; I just like to help her out, and I do it a lot. My brother, on the other hand, has two young children who are full of beans and a wife who, as I understand it, is quite unwell. So, looking after Mum is understandably not going to be his first priority.
I ended up sleeping in until midday today, and then I decided to go to the supermarket to get some more snacks. After catching the lift down to the ground floor, I was walking toward the lobby when my manager friend, Maky, came over to me and thanked me for the chocolates I left for him the other day. He told me he gave them to his son. We stood there and talked for about an hour, actually.
Maky is a very interesting man, and he spoke about his children—one who is 12 and the other who is 22. I thought to myself, "I bet his younger child is with a second wife." I have nothing to base that on apart from the fact that a 10-year age gap is quite big, and he’s a very attractive man, so there was plenty of time for a switch. Anyway, he talked about his career and life in tourism in Cambodia. He has also worked abroad in hotel management, so, as I’ve mentioned before, he is very highly credentialed.
Since I didn’t get Thy or Tim today, I decided to take a bajaj to the shop instead of a tuk-tuk, simply because they offer a little more privacy. You can see us below in traffic and as he dropped me back at the hotel.
