The inspiration for this entry came the other day whilst at T1 at Heathrow en route en business and in need of a book to read. I hit the bookshop and found- 102 English Things To Do- Perfect! A (non)-fictional, list-type book that I can work my way through and blog about for the next year of UK Adventures. And apart from already passing (with a grade of 19/20) the Life in the UK test a year ago, I can follow this guide in pursuit of Citizenship (sometime) in the near-ish future.
Now, to find a place to sit down and read it: Caviar and Champagne bar- vrais Français; Giraffe- a typical American restaurant with quesadillas, burgers, etc., Est- an “Italian” Pizza/Pasta chain, and a little pub boasting "Great English Food"- why not start my 102 English Things To Do with an English meal. Fish and Chips (thing to do #95), Pie and Mash (#96)... Ummm… no vegetables other than potatoes on the menu brings me to standing there contemplating the awful stodginess of English cuisine. This equates to me participating unknowingly at the time in item #2 of English Things To Do= Dwelling on England’s Failures (where the author mentions that it is English to consider English Cuisine as a failure “despite the fact that in the last couple of decades English food has undergone something of a renaissance.”). I find the word “renaissance” an odd choice of words (the connotation is French and alludes to great change). It is quite ironic (don't judge yet and keep reading...) that the author chose this word where “English” food hasn’t really changed nor can anyone really say what truly English food is apart from Pie and Mash and Fish and Chips. But, in the book you are to learn that the author is doing English Thing To Do #6- Be Ironic- “saying one thing and mean another”. Hmph. I settle on the Pizza/Pasta place where I know I can get a warm salad.
In this cultural pursuit, I ended up sat down next to a typically overweight American Dad (checked lumberjack shirt, jeans above his belly button, and a moustache that was not only for Movember) and Daughter combination eating the plainest cheese pizza (as a starter I found out shortly after sitting down and starting this entry) and a margharita pizza for the main and was time warped about 11 years listening to their conversation.
“tell me what’s going on then? I’m not going to pass judgement, but I want to understand what’s going on”.
“meh”.“can you tell me what’s working, what’s not working?”
“dunno”
“help me to understand you”
“I hate sharing”
“well, can you tell me what you don’t like about it- that should be easy?”
“I don’ wanna talk about it.”
Then about 20 minutes of conversation…and by conversation I mean Dad prodding and teenage Daughter meh-ing.
Then:
“one more question, can I ask you one more question?”
“meh”
“are you sure or are you leaning in a direction. Because before we set out on this trip, I thought you were clear on what you wanted. But it seems that you are more unsure now. Can you tell me why?”
“no”
“Come on”
“no, I don’t want to share”
"Is it based on facts or feeling"
"Dunno"
"Can you give me some direction?"
"No"
"What is it then?"
"I’ll give you a hint; I take into account more than just the education."- wow, she must be annoyed because she strung together more than three words.
"What, you didn’t see any boys?"
… more digging from Dad, more not sharing from Daughter. It brought me back about however many years because it was similar to how we worked (parents prodding, teens evading) and it’s only in my adult life that I can now appreciate how much of a pain it must be to have teenagers. Your parents want the best for you and want to find out how they can help you, but you as a teenager are entirely inconsolable and uncommunicative. And I know this is probably not a cultural difference, but it’s made me happy in my heart as an I’m-now-older-and-wiser difference.
Entirely culturally warped this time, the next phrase did come out of the American’s mouth: “the suckiest thing ab-OWT it was…”- In the words of my Uncle Rick- Holy Moly! I haven’t heard that since the last time I watched Full House! Other words like Cool and BAY-sil, not BAH-zel are things that I like about being North American- I will not conform to the English language with my pronunciation. I will conform, however, in the upcoming months by following the 102 English Things To Do to the best of my ability- purely for blogging reasons (and because it’s probably cute and quintessentially English to politely follow the crowd or else apologise for not doing so- #13/#14).
I will finish off with my cultural observations when awaiting my gasp- late Lufthansa flight to Hamburg- yes, there were audible gasps of disgust from the gathered passengers upon the late announcement.
Standing in a mass, not a queue or line-up among the smartly dressed and overtly annoyed Germans, here is a description of the general dress sense of my fellow passengers, and I do so because it is most unlike the dress sense of a crowd of English or Canadians or Americans waiting for their planes:
Example of Irish dress (non)-sense.
Men with neatly styled coifs- their hair is a length where it is styled and cut with scissors, not shears, yet not too long for it to look a-wry. They wear collars, and sweaters, and perfectly placed scarves under their tailored jackets on top of jeans that are not so tight that you can see what underpants they are wearing, nor are they so loose that you cannot tell what size they might be; with leather shoes and black or coloured socks. The women with a-line skirts and tall leather boots- polished; dark tights; also collared shirts, with sweaters, and elegantly printed scarves in a trendy mass around their necks; hair loosely, but not messily pulled into braids or twists. They are all tall or seem tall because they stand straight. And this is the mass that is German (or Dutch) and never English. They are conservative in their overt language and look forward to the Wurstsalat that they serve on the plane. I like this. (not the Wurstsalat).
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