Hi and welcome to ‘a handful of history’, my fortnightly sharing of real-life stories from around the world. All the narratives I pick are rooted in history one way or another, yet I feel that most of them carry themes and happenings that seem very present day-like. I create this blog out of love and curiosity for the field of human history and culture, and I’m happy that you find it interesting too. My blog and newsletters are free; if you want to help me keep it going, please join my newsletter. THANK YOU. Thanks for being here - let's dive in. Enjoy! Majken xx
How Not Winning Can Feel Like Victory
Every other night the novelist and non-fiction author, Pico Iyer, steps out of his apartment in Japan, climb up a hill for 15 minutes, and then head into his local health club. Here, three ping-pong tables are set up in a studio. Space is limited, so at every table, one pair of players practices forehands, another practices backhands. Then, choosing lots, the sportsmen select partners and play doubles. But at the end of a game, after an hour or so of furious exertion, none of them can tell who's won since they change partners every five minutes. But this is not a problem, quite the opposite, actually. “I can honestly tell you”, Iyer says in his TED talk "What Ping-Pong Taught Me About Life", “that not knowing who has won feels like the ultimate victory. “
In a typical western-thinking mind, you are taught that the point of a game is to win. In Japan, however, it's about making "as many people as possible around you feel that they are winners”, Iyers explains. “So you're not careening up and down as an individual might, but you're part of a regular, steady chorus.”
However, doesn’t this take out all the joy of the sports? One may ask. Well, it’s not possible to triumph for a very long time when you play ping-pong in Japan since one minute you win and the next you lose. “On the other hand, I never felt disconsolate”, Iyer says. When he flew away from Japan and started playing singles again with his English archrival, he noticed that he was brokenhearted after every defeat. “But after every victory, I couldn't sleep either”, he observed, ”because I knew there was only one way to go, and that was down.”
In Japan, a game of ping-pong is really like an act of love. You're learning how to play with somebody, rather than against her. This friendly ping-pong approach apparently also works on a high political level. In 1972, Iyer tells, an American ping-pong team was allowed to visit Communist China. The world’s two most potent powers - and fiercest enemies - finally met. After the game, both teams could claim they’d won, and the whole world could breathe more easily.
China's leader, Mao Zedong, wrote a whole manual on ping-pong, and he called the sport "a spiritual nuclear weapon." And it's been said that the only honorary lifelong member of the US Table Tennis Association is the then-President Richard Nixon, who helped to engineer the 1972 win-win situation through ping-pong diplomacy.
Chinese Costumes
On Rawpixel, I discovered this collection of traditional Chinese costume illustrations. They are from the (long) period of the Qing dynasty, which - according to Wikipedia - ruled China from 1644 to 1912. The vintage illustrations were made in 1932 and are free to use. Here's a couple more.
Illustrations: Emperor rope, Princess imperial costume, traditional Commander - military uniform.
Postcards From the Danish Grandfather
So I was reading the blog post “Keeping our Heritage Alive” written by the British author Carolyn Hughes.
One weekend, Hughes writes, her daughter asked her to reveal the stories behind different ancient objects they have in their house. Hughes is well aware of the importance of handing over knowledge like this to the younger generations before it’s too late, she explains. But like most of us, she somehow just doesn’t get it done. However, here’s a start. In her blog post, she picks three artefacts and shares what she knows.
As I scroll down the text, I first read about four ebony elephants from her maternal grandfather’s house. He was a hairdresser and chiropodist, and he travelled the world on ocean-going liners “tending to the feet and crowns of some famous people”.
Next is a quill box made in Ceylon, which also belonged to Hughes’ grandfather. Perhaps it was himself who brought it back on one of his travels? - Hughes wonders.
Last is a postcard album with cards that Hughes’ adventurous grandfather sent and received over the years. Mostly between 1900 and 1907. This object especially caught my interest because apparently “Monsieur Arthur, Coiffeur” was originally from Denmark. One of the postcards pictured in the text is written in Danish, and so are a number of the cards from the album, Hughes tells. She is, understandably, curious about the words written on them. “I really would like to know what they say because quite a number of the Danish ones include family photographs”, she writes.
After reading the text, I so understood Hughes’ curiosity about knowing what her uncle had written on those postcards! It’s a treasure to have such a collection going from one generation to the next. The handwriting is very clear, so it was not a problem for me to read the text, and I ended up translating the words and emailing it to Hughes. She was pleased to receive it. Sometime in the future, when she starts diving into the postcard album project, I have signed up to translate more of her family postcards.
I wish I had a bunch of postcards greetings from my ancestors myself. It’s such a charming way to get to know some more about your heritage, I think.
Carolyn Hughes is an author and has written a series of historical fiction books. She also runs a website with a blog. She is part of the History Girls - a blog written by “a group of best-selling, award-winning writers of historical fiction and non-fiction.”
Thanks for reading! If you have any questions or comments I'd love to hear from you! Just go here and send me your message. Thank you - Majken xx
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