One of the local institutions for the mentally impaired had an ‘open day’ not so long ago. Somebody I know works there and she invited me to pay them a visit and offered to act as my guide. What a revelation! I always thought that everybody were in straight jackets and padded cells. Everybody seemed quite normal… well, that is until they spoke. In fact, it seemed so normal that I was scared that they’d keep me there so I did not stay long enough for my face too become familiar.
The hi-light of the day was undoubtedly the rugby match against another institution of the same kind. But they were playing a different game. The ball was played on the ground, off-side lines were not observed, and throwing punches was part of the game. When a loose scum developed everybody, forwards and backs alike, climbed in. The home team lost the match but certainly won the fights.
But all set aside, it was fun to watch. Discounting the handling errors (which were not blown at all), the game was quite flowing and the whistle seldom blew. And when it did, it took for ever to get the game to stop and everybody back to the point of the ‘infringement’. Methinks the whistle only went when the referee needed a rest. It also appeared that neither team had a kicker. Not a single kick at post, not even a conversion from squat in front of the posts, was attempted. It may be a rule; I don’t know.
During the game a troop of Boy Scouts came marching my way. They were halted and their leader, a tall guy with more decorations than Idi Amin, approached us where we were leaning against my car. Under a spray of spittle I was told that I may not park there. It was a clearly marked parking bay but saw it best to humour him and asked where I should park. He pointed to the adjacent parking bay and stayed until I moved the car before marching his troops off to where they came from. In the process I missed a try being scored.
After the match my hostess took me into an restricted area and when a half dozen or so older ladies behind a 2 meter fence had to be restrained for wanting to climb over the fence to get to me, I decided to leave.
But the visit left me with a few other impressions. Foremost it was the compassion in my hostess for this people. She was born for the job. Then there was a woman pushing a pram with a doll in it. I was told that she stole a new born baby to end up there and another fella, about my age was also pushing a pram; fitted with registration plates, reflectors & a horn and giving hand signals and blowing the horn from time to time as he went along. I wonder what went wrong in his life.
I always thought my hostess had a few nuts and bolts missing but now I understand her better. She has the same problem as policemen and primary school teachers. Have you noticed how policemen talk to everybody as if they are criminals and how primary school teachers address everybody like children?
Have a wonderful day.