Here is a scenario that I think should be food for thought. What is nobler? To reward a waiter for good service with a generous tip or to give alms to a beggar? Here’s what got me thinking…
Somewhere in 1997, I distinctly remember a good friend of mine saying that the standard tip for a waiter at a wayside eatery, the likes of a Dosai ‘kade’ is Rs. 2/-…this was after he myself and another friend of ours who was two years senior to us in College had a soft drink to quench our thirst while going somewhere. I still remember that well. Of the change/balance money we got after putting money into the little plastic bowl like vessel to pay the bill, my friend Janaka Basuriya said that the standard/general tip is two rupees. By my reckoning after nearly 13 years, inflation has not affected the ‘Dosai kade’ tip rate in a dramatic way. Rs. 2/- could still very well be an accepted tip that befits the wayside eatery level staffer who serves its patrons from morning till late night. I have noticed that Rs.5/- is sort of becoming more of a ‘decent tip’ as opposed to Rs.2/-. But a tenner (Rs.10/-) is something of a rather generous tip at a Dosai kade or similar establishment. It is very much above the current ‘standard’ or norm that a waiter may expect.
And yes a tip is a reward by all means. A waiter should ‘earn it’ since patrons are not bound legally to tip, though it may be an ethical one. And what do we do to waiters who simply give patrons the cold shoulder treatment as if though he was just rudely disturbed while on vacation when a customer calls for service? Does a waiter who shows no semblance of good customer service deserve a few coins in return for the workload he performs? If his job description does not stipulate courtesy and ‘service with a smile’, does he deserve that spare change? There are instances where I made decisions at the outset that I shall not leave a tip simply because I felt the appalling service had no right to the reward of a tip.
So then what of alms? Especially when it comes to all those unfortunates who board buses bound to wherever and call on the humanity and generosity of the commuters to help them survive another day? As just about anyone knows mendicancy in Colombo is a profession. It has its regulations and regulations and standardized methodologies. It is a tenaciously controlled operation that generates big bucks to a whole stratum of society. A friend of mine once said that he read somewhere that if a person gives Rs.2/- to every beggar he meets in Colombo city within a day the result would be that the donor would have to join the ranks of those whom was generous to. Mind you its just two rupees we are talking of, what used to be the standard tip for a Dosai kade waiter.
I recall an incident from our childhood days when our family went to Mihintale. There was an old man who was very much the conventional wayside beggar with the outstretched hand form indicating a call for alms. We came across him as we climbed the thousand stone stepped pathway that forms the way to the sacred site. My grandmother dropped some spare change she had with her into the palm of the hapless mendicant and walked on. A couple of minutes later I remember there was a bit of laughter from the family whom I was pacing ahead of. Turns out that as my younger sister (who was trailing behind my grandmother) went past the beggar, he had called her over and handed her back a couple of coins, and told her to give it to back to our grandmother. There were two or three coins that were below Rs.1/- in denomination! The beggar had a standard of his own. And mind you this was when Rs.1/- afforded you two toffees! I remember we all had a bit of a laugh at the cheekiness of the mendicant who could afford to decide what is acceptable and not. What a beggar we thought. But we also felt indignant, there is no denying it.
Is giving alms to a beggar a legal requirement on the part of a citizen? Certainly not. But we do it, and on a daily basis, purely out of some inner compulsion to feel that we have helped a fellow human being who is less fortunate. But many are the times when I wish that there was some law against begging on board buses. With their wounds and woes in full sight and call, the mendicants of Colombo city can be a nuisance to commuters. The plight of beggars is at most times a façade. In the streets of Colombo what you see is rarely what you get. What lies beneath is a whole new thing all together. Beggary is a business.
My mother once reprimanded me when I said a few coins is enough when her intention was to give at least Rs.10/- as she hastily dug though the stuff in her handbag as a mendicant on crutches appealed for generosity as our car was waiting for the light to turn green at the Borella, Senanayake junction traffic lights. She said when you give you have to be generous and give something substantial. I’m very certain that it was the same beggar who on another occasion grimaced and hissed with displeasure muttering a complaint when she only managed to give a few coins.
To give to the less fortunate is meritorious. We ardently believe in giving. It is part of our civic duty one might even say given our lines of societal thought and the values they generate. So giving alms to a beggar is far more nobler than giving to one who already has. That’s only logical one could say.
The waiter serves an establishment that caters to your human need. The beggar serves the cause of charity and is part of a human need. One earns his keep, the other is not ‘positioned’ to earn it per se. but make no mistake both are at their vocation. So here is a question to ponder on in this day and age when we think of giving a jobless man a fishing rod and teaching him how to fish rather than give him a fish…If you had just one ten rupee note to give, who would get it? A waiter who has given you satisfactory service, whose average ‘tip’ would not be more than Rs.5/- or a member of the less fortunate who has taken great pains to put on a story of despair and misery and calling on your generosity?...would you reward good service or encourage beggary? For what its worth- A ten rupee question.
Somewhere in 1997, I distinctly remember a good friend of mine saying that the standard tip for a waiter at a wayside eatery, the likes of a Dosai ‘kade’ is Rs. 2/-…this was after he myself and another friend of ours who was two years senior to us in College had a soft drink to quench our thirst while going somewhere. I still remember that well. Of the change/balance money we got after putting money into the little plastic bowl like vessel to pay the bill, my friend Janaka Basuriya said that the standard/general tip is two rupees. By my reckoning after nearly 13 years, inflation has not affected the ‘Dosai kade’ tip rate in a dramatic way. Rs. 2/- could still very well be an accepted tip that befits the wayside eatery level staffer who serves its patrons from morning till late night. I have noticed that Rs.5/- is sort of becoming more of a ‘decent tip’ as opposed to Rs.2/-. But a tenner (Rs.10/-) is something of a rather generous tip at a Dosai kade or similar establishment. It is very much above the current ‘standard’ or norm that a waiter may expect.
And yes a tip is a reward by all means. A waiter should ‘earn it’ since patrons are not bound legally to tip, though it may be an ethical one. And what do we do to waiters who simply give patrons the cold shoulder treatment as if though he was just rudely disturbed while on vacation when a customer calls for service? Does a waiter who shows no semblance of good customer service deserve a few coins in return for the workload he performs? If his job description does not stipulate courtesy and ‘service with a smile’, does he deserve that spare change? There are instances where I made decisions at the outset that I shall not leave a tip simply because I felt the appalling service had no right to the reward of a tip.
So then what of alms? Especially when it comes to all those unfortunates who board buses bound to wherever and call on the humanity and generosity of the commuters to help them survive another day? As just about anyone knows mendicancy in Colombo is a profession. It has its regulations and regulations and standardized methodologies. It is a tenaciously controlled operation that generates big bucks to a whole stratum of society. A friend of mine once said that he read somewhere that if a person gives Rs.2/- to every beggar he meets in Colombo city within a day the result would be that the donor would have to join the ranks of those whom was generous to. Mind you its just two rupees we are talking of, what used to be the standard tip for a Dosai kade waiter.
I recall an incident from our childhood days when our family went to Mihintale. There was an old man who was very much the conventional wayside beggar with the outstretched hand form indicating a call for alms. We came across him as we climbed the thousand stone stepped pathway that forms the way to the sacred site. My grandmother dropped some spare change she had with her into the palm of the hapless mendicant and walked on. A couple of minutes later I remember there was a bit of laughter from the family whom I was pacing ahead of. Turns out that as my younger sister (who was trailing behind my grandmother) went past the beggar, he had called her over and handed her back a couple of coins, and told her to give it to back to our grandmother. There were two or three coins that were below Rs.1/- in denomination! The beggar had a standard of his own. And mind you this was when Rs.1/- afforded you two toffees! I remember we all had a bit of a laugh at the cheekiness of the mendicant who could afford to decide what is acceptable and not. What a beggar we thought. But we also felt indignant, there is no denying it.
Is giving alms to a beggar a legal requirement on the part of a citizen? Certainly not. But we do it, and on a daily basis, purely out of some inner compulsion to feel that we have helped a fellow human being who is less fortunate. But many are the times when I wish that there was some law against begging on board buses. With their wounds and woes in full sight and call, the mendicants of Colombo city can be a nuisance to commuters. The plight of beggars is at most times a façade. In the streets of Colombo what you see is rarely what you get. What lies beneath is a whole new thing all together. Beggary is a business.
My mother once reprimanded me when I said a few coins is enough when her intention was to give at least Rs.10/- as she hastily dug though the stuff in her handbag as a mendicant on crutches appealed for generosity as our car was waiting for the light to turn green at the Borella, Senanayake junction traffic lights. She said when you give you have to be generous and give something substantial. I’m very certain that it was the same beggar who on another occasion grimaced and hissed with displeasure muttering a complaint when she only managed to give a few coins.
To give to the less fortunate is meritorious. We ardently believe in giving. It is part of our civic duty one might even say given our lines of societal thought and the values they generate. So giving alms to a beggar is far more nobler than giving to one who already has. That’s only logical one could say.
The waiter serves an establishment that caters to your human need. The beggar serves the cause of charity and is part of a human need. One earns his keep, the other is not ‘positioned’ to earn it per se. but make no mistake both are at their vocation. So here is a question to ponder on in this day and age when we think of giving a jobless man a fishing rod and teaching him how to fish rather than give him a fish…If you had just one ten rupee note to give, who would get it? A waiter who has given you satisfactory service, whose average ‘tip’ would not be more than Rs.5/- or a member of the less fortunate who has taken great pains to put on a story of despair and misery and calling on your generosity?...would you reward good service or encourage beggary? For what its worth- A ten rupee question.
