Tuesday 20 April 2010
My first 10 days in London
How I’m perceived and my perceptions:
I don’t even know how I see myself or who I am exactly, but for this blog, I’m going to keep it as simple as possible, which is never easy for Gil, yes I just spoke in the 3rd person, I fully went there. Okay, so I’m labelled, defined or have been calling myself a New Zealander.
Those of you who really know me know my identity is more complex than that.Nonetheless, after playing football with British youngsters all of African parents, in a caged astro-turf pitch on this densely populated island, and being the only white guy on the pitch, they were amazed that I could play football well. And when I told them I was from New Zealand their jaws dropped, and it dropped through the floor when I the hit net on several occasions. Upon meeting a Turkish worker at the railway station, I understand we are here for different reasons, and he didn’t understand why I was in this “shit place” (his words). He has to be in London though, he sends money back for his family weekly. Or the bank assistant who I opened my account with, came from Malawi, he funded this trip by selling car parts in Joburg. While the Polish owner of the restaurant, who ‘knows of’ New Zealand, and so cannot believe I would leave such a terrific place. And of course I didn’t have to leave New Zealand. I’m not here illegally, or in dire need of earning money because I cannot feed myself back home – I’m here for pleasure, for experience, for hedonism, to get away from something or to go towards something else. My situation, like all of the Kiwis and Aussis, is different to those from Africa, parts of Asia and the Middle East, we had a choice and they didn’t.
Flat-Hunting:
I must say if you really want to see London, and I mean ‘really’, not the ‘I’m taking photos of every church, gallery, or public building, from there to Buckingham Palace’: Go flat-hunting! Okay that is a stupid idea if you’re a tourist, but you really see behind that glossy surface of the place, the real London. If I came to London for two weeks and not two years, my perception of the place would have been very different. I would have gone to every tourist spot, staying close to the centre, venturing to the nice areas like the West End or along the river (BTW I haven’t been to Soho or Chelsea yet). Checking out flats in East London is an experience in itself. East London is known to be more gritty, have lower-income bracket persons, and be less glamorous than London’s ideal. So I went to see a place in a suburb called West-ferry. The suburb is a 15 minute walk in-land from the water. It is filled with government state housing, the place I was checking out was one of many, horrible looking brick complexes, something more akin to prison walls than that of residence for us every-day civilians. What shocked me was walking along the dock, a complete disparate
world emerged, with sea-side apartments etc. And Canary Wharf the suburb which separates West-ferry from the water, is a mini metropolis of bankers, with HSBC, Citi-bank, and Bank of America skyscrapers taking to the sky. So despite the mix of Indian, Bangladeshi, and Pakistani, working class families just a few miles up the road, you have work professionals dining in top restaurants, socializing in parks and exercising in Virgin-run gyms. Gentrification at its finest? Quite possibly mate!
Checking out Golders Green was another kettle of fish all together, London contains every type of kettle imaginable. Golders Green for one, is packed with religious Jews. You would be hard-pressed to find a bacon sandwich here. One lamppost has ‘Free Gaza from Hamas’ tagged on it, Jews really suck at street art – the free Palestine tags I’ve seen (in Wellington) are far more artistic. Anyway its cool that next to Ben’s Bagels is an Iranian food speciality store, if only those actual governments (Israel and Iran) could exist peacefully together. And this is what London is, people from all walks of life, from every single country and culture you know of, think of, or can ever imagine, living with the idea of obtaining a better life for themselves and their family. For instance I met a half-Indonesian (Muslim) and half-Italian (Catholic) lasse in Mother Bar (which is just like Khuja Lounge in Auckland, one of my favourite clubs FYI). Or how about showing up to a flat viewing, where your land-lord lives with his Ghanaian brother, who is fresh off the boat (quite literally).
The Tube:
Riding the tube is an experience in itself. Unless you know someone, people do not utter a word to one another. Even though it has been constructed in a way that you sit facing your fellow passenger, it is, just looks and gestures, no such concrete communication is ever attempted. Not only this, people, no matter the time of day, look drab and tired, and totally emotionless. Then when you take the tube at rush hour, it is first a placid, non-contact fight to make it onto the actual tube, and then you’re squashed with your fellow Londoners. And despite all these bodies millimetres away from each other, not a word is muttered, you are concentrated together with several other beating hearts, but you are totally alone – there is no love here! However one day on the tube, the sombre vibe was lifted, a group of children on some field trip added a refreshing tone to the typically sour proceedings. Laughing, asking silly questions, and just being free-spirited, was a welcome change to my usual tube experiences. Children they’re great aren’t they, they are totally ‘real’ and express themselves organically, staying true to how they feel; not suppressing t
Fuck social norms. This was definitely not on the mind of one commuter. A young Caribbean Englishman, departed the tube station not walking briskly and silently like others, but rapping the words to some song for all to hear, strutting in that ‘gangster’ way as he made his way up to ground level. People were bemused, ‘You don’t do that’! ‘You get to where you need to be, that is the sole purpose of the tube’. Well I think this black-man just wanted an audience, he certainly got one, but nothing close to a pleased appreciative lot, as shown by the digusting look on the faces’ of the eldery Londoners.
Note: I strongly suggest no families with young children to travel at extremely busy times. Seeing that I witnessed two little girls screaming and crying to get out, as their parents got them off before their final destination as it was overly too intense for them.
The Strangers I’ve met:
I’m not alone in my thoughts that no-body utters a word on the tube. I met 62 year old Bob at the underground station – who proceeded to tell me (during our tube-ride), that nobody has ever spoken to him on the tube. I replied, I can’t help it, I guess it’s my Kiwi sensibility , or maybe it’s one of my ‘special’ qualities. He also said never in his history of being in London has there not been a cloud in the sky, but today the sky was totally blue, totally. This is not because, London rarely has good weather, but because the planes fly everyday emitting cloud fodder in the skies. At this moment though, time pending due to the volcanic ash here and all around Europe, few air-spaces have been open. This is much to the disgust of my brother’s good friend who I stayed at for a week (upon arriving to London), as he had a weekend planned skiing the French Alps with an English bird. My ‘brother’s friend’ described by my other brother as the civilian version of Jason Bourne, or the plebe’s Matt Damon. Fairly short and stocky, he is a bit Jason Bourne, totally independent and successful, he moves by the beat of his own drum – travelling when he wants and seeing who he wants. Like when Jason Bourne initially had the CIA to answer to, he answers to rich property investors, same difference! By any means, he is no longer a stranger, but someone I could aspire to be. He came to London ten years ago, at a similar age to me, now he is obviously fully settled, living his own dream.
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No way that aint fair!
So to finish I quote the British national anthem, “for Britain’s sake defend our mother, prince, and friend . . . God save us all”!
Well, it appears you are settling in well with the Brits. As always, your ability to meet random people at will astounds me. Keep safe and write often, I will be following.
ReplyDeleteP.S. Check on the body style of the writing as it changes about 3/4 through.
favourite line: London contains every type of kettle imaginable.
ReplyDeletefavourite existential line: I don’t even know how I see myself or who I am exactly...
favourite obscenity: Fuck social norms
favourite idea: ... if you really want to see London ... Go flat-hunting!
favourite typo: not suppressing t
favourite exclamation: there is no love here!