London Celebrates

London likes to play. 

On a the small scale, every Thursday people mark an early end to the work week at a bar or pub near their offices, to enjoy a drink with their co-workers.  Why Thursday?  Because on Fridays they're rushing off to the weekends' activities, either at home or abroad.

This celebration of the week's end shows just how social Londoners are.  They like one another, even seeking one another's company outside the workplace.  It's refreshing, really, after work in the US, where often I barefly knew my co-workers, beyond when they arrived and left the office.  Here in London, you get the sense that people genuinely care about and for one another, which is why you'll hear "Sorry!" so often, as people jostle their way through the Tube stations and up and down escalators and stairways. 

There is an inate politeness in the English that appears to be inbred.

A drummer at Notting Hill Carnival

The autumn sun

The crowd




This  statement was challenged this weekend by the Notting Hill Carnival attendees.  The two-day celebration of Caribbean culture was filled with an altogether different group of people, very unlike those we see in very business-like Canary Wharf:  they were brazen, loud, openly pushing boundaries against public drinking, drug use and littering.  You could see signs that they were not trusted:  some storefronts were boarded up against broken windows, while the police were in evidence everywhere we looked. 

 

The Tuesday papers announced that this distrust is well-founded:  there were several reports of injury and a man stabbed late at night and in hospital. 

 

This celebration is not for the faint of heart or the fool-hardy, but enjoy a bit of daytime revelry in the visual, rythmic and musical manifestations of culture and you won't be disappointed.



Settling In

Life in London takes some getting used to, especially when you're used to being a foreign expat. 

What I mean by this is that, when I've been setting up a home in countries where I do not speak the language, or cannot drive because it's forbidden for women to do so, fellow expatriate women quickly become participants in the process.  I would meet them at my children's school, in the markets, within the confines of the compound where I was living.

In London, however, being an expat is a different thing altogether.  People from all over the world, both ex-colonies and not, flock to this island in search of opportunities.  They flow through Heathrow, Gatwick, the train lines and even from the ferries in droves, looking for jobs, knowledge, love, a new life.  Some come for a brief time; others come for a lifetime; still others come with no set plan; they just know that they need to find something better than where they were.

Brick Lane

You will run into every type of expat anywhere you go in London.  They will be pushing prams in the park, handing you change in the off-license shop or their hands will be beside yours on the pole in the Tube.  You will note that some dress differently, especially now that Ramadan is upon those of the Muslim faith:  women veil themselves, wear hijab; even little girls, too young to have reached puberty, cover their hair.  Indian women wear their saris or shalwar cameez and Africans may wear tribal prints, especially when attending a celebration.

This is but part of the variety that makes up London's population.  The city's visitors have added another dimension to the mix, with their national colors, languages and enthusiastic cries.  While the British have long been known for their reserve, I have seen little of it, except in Edwardian era television dramas.  Walk by a pub on any match night, and you will hear the cries and songs of opposing teams of viewers, as they heckle the screen and each other with a touch of alcoholic good humor.

You have to appreciate the place.  I am positive that I have, after a few months, merely scratched the surface of London.  New encounters raise new questions, for instance:  do the British have as many words for water falling from the sky as do Eskimos for snow?  Why do they like mushy peas?  Why are eels appealing, and Marmite, too?  Where did the idea that Brits serve malt-based beverages at room temperature come from?  My beers have always been served to me cold.  How do some people wrap their mouths around the accents they produce?  I know we both speak English, but some I simply cannot decipher!  These are but a few of the questions that can keep a visitor entertained for an entire visit.  Imagine living here -- and all this was without benefit of a television!

"Our" pub in the Nelson Docks area