The world's a funny place. I suppose this could happen in your country too, but what I am about to tell you took place recently in the Czech Republic, where I live with my girlfriend and our two sons.
You may or may not have heard, but the Czech government is in a bit of a mess this year. We've lost count of how many times the government's resigned and been reformed. It's not surprising that often one ministry doesn't seem to know what another is doing, what with all the frequent changes. We're all getting a little bit bored with it.
Anyway, one story that hit the headlines recently and caused a lot of discussion, even in the sleepy village where I live, is worth telling.
The Czech Republic has beautiful countryside, much of it rolling hills, a lot of it forested but mostly it's down to farmland, with big fields that stretch to the horizon. It's not like England, where the fields are mostly small and rimmed with hedges. A typical Czech country road has no hedges but winds between the fields, between nicely-spaced rows of fruit or nut trees. At this time of year (spring) the whole countryside is full of colour from the fruit blossoms; apricot, cherry, plum and later apple and pear. During the very cold and snowy winters the trees mark out the roads. Many of these trees are very old, planted in the 18th and 19th centuries when what is now the Czech Republic was part of the Austrian Empire, and are treasured as part of the country's heritage.
So you can imagine the hoo-hah that ensued when the Ministry of the Environment made a survey of all the trees and discovered to everyone's horror that the Transport Ministry had stealthily cut down about a third of them (how come no-one noticed?), and when asked why, the Minister of Transport responded that they were a danger to drivers and caused a lot of accidents. What did they do, leap out into the road suddenly to surprise a passing car? Pressed further, the Transport Ministry admitted that due to rising maintenance costs it was cheaper to remove the trees altogether than to prune or trim them once a year.
The newspapers loved this and for several weeks the pros and cons were debated on the front pages. Given the state of the world economy this year I suppose the financial argument will win over the ecological and heritage arguments, but what a shame.
Imagine then my surprise the other week when as I was walking with my youngest son in his pram between our village and the next, I came upon two workmen in overalls by the side of the road. They appeared to be from the local council and were behaving rather strangely. Czechs often behave rather strangely, but that's another story. One chap was digging evenly-spaced holes behind the ditch between the road and the field, about ten metres apart. Nothing strange about that. But it was what the other guy was doing that amazed me. He was coming along about two holes behind the first man, and was filling them in again!
I had to stop and ask.
The first guy, the one who was digging the holes, stopped, with sweat pouring from his brow, and scratched his nose.
'Yes,' he admitted. 'I suppose it does look a bit funny.'
He wiped his face, looked me in the eye, and said, 'It's because the guy who plants the trees is off sick today'.