No pain, no gain?

I can never bring myself to pick up and keep money I find lying around.
On the streets, in shopping centers. Anywhere.
It is not because of germs or some strange phobia. I just refuse to keep it.

Hold on...there is a method to my madness.

Many years ago, I attended an International Scout Jamboree (a gathering of scouts from around the world) held in Templer's Park, Malaysia. I was only 16 at that time. It was a rather long jamboree around 2 weeks. We camped out in self-made bamboo structure with a poncho (water-proof sheet) over it. It kept out the rain but little else. It did serve its purpose well. We cooked on the ground using wood fire and tin pots. A simple life.

Anyway, if you have ever been out camping, you'd know that food is a luxury. The difference between a Jamboree and a normal scout camp is there were lots of food stalls mainly catered for the international scouts and teachers. Our ultra-strict scout master only allowed us to cook our main meals. However, we could buy our meals for snacks or supper.

After many days of eating err...supplementary food, I ran out of cash. . I had a craving for the malay pau (Hey, when you are sustained by food cooked by fellow 16 year old scouts, everything else tastes good). As luck would have it, on the second last day, I found a 10 ringgit note lying on the ground. All mine.

As you would know, I spent it all. I did feel guilty and sensed impending doom but hey, cash = food.

As we were the host country and state, our scout contingent was the last to leave. In fact, because our scout master is some big-shot district commissioner, our scout troop (school unit) was the very last to leave. Before we left, we all took a last picture of us hanging on the bamboo structure.

Then the penny dropped.

The whole bamboo broke and sent us all falling down. 2 feet down. Not very fatal and we all had a great laugh. Until I saw my knee. Apparently, the bamboo chose to split right on my knee and it tore open a 5cm wound (a perfect square). The wound was white and for some strange reason, no blood appeared yet (the body is strange in that way).

Anyway, all the medical teams and transport had left the area hours ago. I had to get into a taxi cab and they sent me to the nearest clinic, which happened to be the local government health institute in the small town of Rawang. The 'doctor' or health worker was a clearly half-sleeping, half drunk man who didn't really inspire much confidence.

Well, to cut the long story short. It was a traumatic experience.

I blamed the darned 10 ringgit that I found.