“Free foot massage, no obligation,” said the guide.
“Free, my foot,” thought I. Sorry, couldn’t resist the pun.
I was on a one-week budget tour of China. As with all these budget tours there is always a payback. The payback being that we have to visit a few places where they would try their level best to separate us from our money. These places were the silk factory, the tea centre and the bamboo factory. Yes, it was just sales pitch after sales pitch.
The last port of call was the Tibetan traditional medicine institute. We were led like sheep to a hall furnished with comfortable massage chairs. A team of young track suited personnel was on hand to take care of us. The foot massage was very pleasant, especially so since we had been walking quite a bit the in the previous few days.
However, I was not able to enjoy it fully – my mind was rather preoccupied as I knew any moment some slick salesmen would appear to flog us some ointment or pills. True enough he did appear. I must admit that he was a good speaker, mixing humour and some knowledge about the history and current affairs of our country to establish rapport with us.
Then he introduced, rather briefly I thought, some Tibetan traditional medicine. The reason for his brevity became clear later on when at least half a dozen very scientific looking men in white lab coats, led by a very imposing chief honcho in full Tibetan regalia, appeared. The first speaker was merely an emcee to warm up the audience until the “A” arrived. The “doctors”, under the watchful eyes of the chief medicine man, fanned out looking for targets.
A few of us had already psyched ourselves up to resist any “fantastic once-in-lifetime” offer. Andrew, being a medical doctor, had an advantage mentally and so he merely adopted an aloof look and rested comfortable in the massage chair. I took a different tack – I put on my most skeptical face and stared assertively at the doctors. It must have worked, for they gave us a wide berth.
The rest of our party did not get it easy. The white coats made sufficient impression on my fellow tourists, especially when they were able to declare, from merely feeling the pulse, that the tourists had liver, cholesterol, uric acid, diabetes, blood pressure or back problem. I realize that they had a high probability of being right. Most of us are at least fifty-five years old. We have entered the age bracket where one of these ailments is bound to be present. So, a number of our tour group dug deep into their pockets to buy a peace of mind.
The point is that they were sufficiently impressed by the scientist looking characters and their high priest looking leader. That is the way of the world. We are easily moved by impression and appearance. Judging people by outward appearance is a common human trait. Television advertisers know this, hence they would dress their promoters of products in long white coats and armed with clipboards to give them the air of scientific authority as they extoll the virtue of some particular brand of toothpaste or other.
Recently my friend Tom posted on Facebook an article that says the number of earned PhD degrees in the United States is 40,000 to 45,000 each year. The number of fake PhDs bought each year from diploma mills exceeds 50,000. In other words, more than half of all people claiming a new PhD have a fake degree.
For good measure he copied and pasted an advertisement that brazenly declared that for a suitable fee one can “get an accredited College Degree in 5 days without ever stepping foot into a college classroom or even doing course work”!
“What an affront and insult this is to us who struggled many years to earn the tertiary qualification,” said a very peeved Tom. I can empathise with Tom. He travelled to distant Scotland and was separated from his family for nearly two years to earn his Masters degree. Currently he has his nose to the academic grindstone to work for his PhD.
Well might Tom rant and rave but this is a common human failing (being impressed with form and not bothered to verify the substance) in the world and Malaysia included. There are, of course, two sides to the coin – those who are afflicted by this weakness and those who exploit this weakness. Hence, we witness the prevalence of the unmerited Datuk and PhD syndrome in our country. We all have heard the old unfunny joke, “if you throw a stone in the air in Malaysia, the chance is that it might land on a …”
However, whether we like it or not, outward (and superficial?) appearance does have its impact. That’s why there are a number of courses that teach people how to dress and carry themselves with poise to create favourable impression. Well, it is the way of the world; we just have to live with it.