In English the word wealth has a broader definition, as opposed to just rich. Wealth can signify a greater range and diversity of riches, while being rich usually means you have a lot of money.
A kind of wealth is being able to take a holiday without needing too much permission. (I’m a freelance contractor so I what I gain in flexibility I lose in security.)
Recently, I was away for five days with friends in Rhodes, Greece. It was quite spontaneous and hastily booked. We all flew out individually, from our respective locations, and met in Lindos, a town on the eastern side of the island.
In early June, Rhodes is dry, reaching peaks of 30 Celsius, and ridiculously sunny. I looked at the English sunning themselves under the blistering UV, while my friends, two Czechs, and I took shade under sheltered sunbeds. We prefer not being roasted.
One evening we were sitting at a roadside restaurant after a hard day of swimming and lounging, lounging and swimming, and I got onto the subject of wealth, somewhat accidentally.
I was monologuing about my life in journalism, this life I’ve built as a freelance writer.
I contrasted it with another freelance journalist I know, who has built a very different life for herself in Seoul, Korea.
My wealth was in freedom, I said.
Her wealth is in the connections she’s built, over time.
(A cast of close friends, a network with depth, a partner, professional contacts, all built with care. She is quite a bit younger than me, but when I was in my twenties, I didn’t build such a close network, that she has done, when I lived and worked in Beijing.)
So I’ve lost something too, I said, as I talked over our plates of chicken souvlaki and Cretan salad.
In Rhodes, I wanted to chill to the max but was unable to since my two friends had other plans, some of which were antithetical to chilling to the max, but I enjoyed their company and being carried along by their whims, taking pleasure in not having to think too hard.
One evening, however, I chose to branch out a little. I left my friends, who did not prioritise dinner in the way I do, and went to get a cheeseburger. I sat there alone relishing my cheeseburger and a fresh orange juice. After eating my cheeseburger in solemn silence, taking my time with it, I was still a bit peckish. So I ordered gyros. I ate the gyros methodically and enjoyably, washing it down with another orange juice. It was glorious. To be alone, eating at my own pace (slower than average) and not having to wait, miserably, to eat.
After that, I walked to the square, and sat on a bench overlooking the sea, the natural harbour, with its boats and yachts, and listened to music while I waited for my friends.
Enjoying everything that belonged to me.
Enjoyed this!