Enough with the baby-slapping!

November 14, 2006
Archive


Ok, I'm sorry, but I have to get something off my chest. I have seen WAY too many moms hitting their children lately. And I'm talking really smacking their kids, their SMALL kids, for the tiniest little things. Like the kid is in a shop and touches something, and the mom says 'don't touch that', and pulls the child's arm really hard. And then the kid tries to touch it again, or whines just a little bit (like quietly says 'owww'), and then the mom just goes nuts, pulling the kid, and slapping him and yelling. No one in the store had even noticed that this child was being disruptive (cause he wasn't), until the mom hits him and yells, and this upsets the child of course. I don't know what to do in these situations, cause a.) it's not my child, b.) it's not my culture, and c.) it's not gonna change anything except make the mom more angry. But I feel horrible seeing this stuff happen constantly, everywhere, and some true violence over NOTHING at all. It's just so unnecessary and disproportional. I mean, violence is never ok, but it's not like the kid went up to the sales person and kicked her in the shins and told her to f-off, or anything like that. It's just crazy. Ok, that's all for now, thanks for listening.

In other news, here's what the gym is like: I decided that I would go and enroll in the gym down the street, like I'd been meaning to do for the last month. It's an old crummy gym, but so close to my apartment that I won't be able to make excuses for avoiding it. Even if this gym is crap, at least it's something. It's located above a grocery store, with a street level door leading to a very steep and long flight of stairs. Above the door is a sign “New Gym” and an arrow pointing directly up the stairs. I climbed the stairs and began to smile as I heard the ridiculously loud reverberations of the FlashDance theme song coming from the gym. I had visited a few weeks before, just to look at it and get some information, and had a met an older woman who was extremely kind and helpful. This was the owner's mother, who looked after the place occasionally. On a second visit, I found no one there who could actually help me with the inscription, so I went back later with the required papers and money, to finally, hopefully, sign up and get started. Each time I had visited, the gym had been empty. But this actually pleased me as it meant I could probably use the equipment whenever and however I wanted, without the pressure or timetables of other members. Still, the age and quality of equipment is a disappointment.
I met with Sylvie, the owner, to give her paperwork and money. Sylvie and her husband owned the gym, and were both former champion body-builders. The gym is covered with posters and pictures of them at the height of their muscled careers. I sat down opposite Sylvie, and commented on one of the posters. “Is that you? Very impressive!” I said. “Yes, that's me, but it's nothing” Sylvie had modestly replied. “Yes, it's very good.” I insisted, looking at Sylvie's muscled thighs stick through a bikini. “Oh, it was for a competition," she told me. "But that was a long time ago.”
I, used to the procedures and pressures of gyms in the U.S., was surprised by the informality of the whole thing. There were no releases to sign, or tours and introductions to the equipment made. There was no card or check-in procedure, no questions about my experience or background, no rules stated or regulations covered. Just a name and address given, some cash and a photo, and I was hand-written into the ledger book that acted as a membership database and told she could start whenever. I asked if I had to present myself to someone when I came, so that they knew I was enrolled and paid and legitimate to be there, and Sylvie answered that it would always be either her or the Monsieur (Mr. Olympus himself) there, and they would know me. So,I thanked the bodybuilder, and left.

Working out there has been interesting too. From being the only woman (and told on my first visit that I should follow the 'female workout' posted on the wall - I noticed there wasn't a 'male workout' posted anywhere), and from having to say hello to everyone I run across in the gym (one man even came around and shook EVERYONE's hands- talk about the spread of sweat and germs!), to using hand weights that are held together with splitting pieces of wood. All said, though, I really like this gym. Friendly guys, great location, decent equipment, and lots of motivational posters- Sylvie and the Monsieur never looked better!