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Cultural tales of a European wonderer

I am much travelled around Europe. I have been to countries from the old eastern block, through to ‘the West’, from the warmth of the Mediterranean to the chill of Scandinavia, and everything inbetween. The one thing I have really noticed from these travels is how far we, Britain, are culturally and socially behind European countries. For me to compound this statement consider this fact:

While travelling you are going to meet and speak to [local] people.

To communicate you need to be able to speak a common language and although there are a few Britons who can speak another tongue, there are not many. So this means that you have thousands neh millions of people in other countries who are able to speak our language even though it is not their own.

As said, to communicate you need a common language, so it should not be surprising that a local in say France is very likely to speak English with a tourist from Japan. I have seen this happen. Our language has flown around the world and we should be proud of this. It is this which is our greatest export.

I have noticed on buses in Slovenia that announcements are made in English and then Slovenian and I have noticed on underground trains in Sweden and France for example of signs being written in the local language with the English underneath. Go into a restaurant abroad and you are likely to be given a menu written in both the local language and English (sometimes a few other languages as well).

This combination is carried across into media as well. Go to clubs, listen to the radio or go to concerts in another European country and you can hear scores of songs either from Britain/America being played, or local acts singing in English. When I have been to cinemas in Europe there is often the choice between a film in English with local language subtitles underneath or the same film fully dubbed in the local language.

Everywhere you go you can see how the English language has been embraced, but I must stress, not to the extent where it over rules the local language.

It is not just language. Everywhere you go you will always see the same brands: McDonalds, Starbucks, Tescos, Shell and Ford for example (I know not all these are British and this is a consequence of globalisation). There will always be Irish Bars in the major cities showing Premiership football or England rugby games (I watched the 2009 FA Cup final in Prague). You can easily find the English papers. The British flag can be seen in nearly every street in tacky souvenir shops or even outside restaurants where on the menu you can find ‘traditional English breakfast’ served with ‘English tea’.

Yet despite the British and western invasion in European countries you can still grasp and embrace the local cultures. The people are generally friendly everywhere, but you can tell nationalistic personality types among people from different countries. You will always find the local dishes easy to come by and the local beers strongly advertised. If a country is famed for a siesta you can see it’s impact. If the country is known for a specific drinking style you’ll see it (such as drinking for social enjoyment). Countries and cities may generally look the same in Europe, but you can easily culturally tell them apart from country to country. It is one of the joys of travelling and one of the reasons people do it.

But then transcend this ideology back to Britain. Can you image being given a menu at a typical restaurant written in several languages. Can you see the impact of signs on the buses or announcements on the trains being made in several languages. Can you even imagine many British people communicating to a tourist in a way that is not shouting louder and speaking each word slowly and separately. A lot of British people will not accept this and we have not been bought up to be fluent in different languages.

Now we are not a nation of racists, and I despise the idea that society and culture in Britain is or has collapsed, but as a nation we have such a poor outlook on life and idea on living life. Of course we are the country of business where work dominates our lives, but this is to the detriment of our family, our social and cultural lives. It leads us to binge drinking as a means to divert the mind away from earning money to just pay the bills, lending to the image of drunken Brits stumbling out of clubs and throwing up being screened around the world and acted out by British tourists. It also leads us to not appreciate each other, our family, our friends, strangers, we become more socially reserved, it maybe a cultural trait, but it leads to the British being seen abroad with contempt (it’s not all down to our political leaders). I have walked down streets of the major capitals of Europe and streets of obscure villages in Europe and people walk past me (and travelling buddies) uttering the words ‘British *tsck*’ with so much disgust I fear I may had been singing ‘get ya tits out’ really loud instead of wondering where to get lunch.

We in Britain need to start accepting Europe and European culture. More of us need to properly travel to experience local societies instead of purely sightseeing and spending evenings in a hotel. If there is a fear of our culture being destroyed by such an embrace then I would suggest that those people do not really understand our culture or what it really is. I am not calling for all signs to be written in hundred different languages or even two, but I do think we need to be more open to the possibility of these changes. There should be no excuse as to why more of us cannot speak more languages, even if it is not fluent. While we are at it lets revamp our own society and culture and remove the non-political contempt that a lot of Britain’s seem to be met with by some locals in other countries.

The List has been launched

February 28, 2009 mattblackall Leave a comment

This morning I have been busy writting ‘The List’. It is something everyone does sometime in their life. It is a list of things I want to do in my lifetime. I hope to keep updating it, and I would love suggestions as to ideas to put on it. I have started with something simple, go to Waggamummas (if that is how it is spelt). When I was contriving this list the other day I was going to put go to Sweeny & Todd’s in Reading, but I went for a work do on wednesday, it is amazing. (Sweeny & Todd’s is a pie shop)

Click here to see ‘The List’

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“Please don’t do this”

October 7, 2008 mattblackall 2 comments

I witnessed one of the saddest and most personally distressing sights on Sunday. I was on the train between Portsmouth and Guildford, switching between reading my New Internationalist and the Big Issue. An elderly couple had sat down on the opposite side of the carriage from myself, sat in a two-person row, squashed between seats in front and behind. There was a lack of a window, with a large plastic frame engorging their view and adding to the claustrophobia of the seats.

About ¾ into the journey the old woman (sitting on the isle seat) stood up and started looking through her bag, or taking off her coat- I didn’t really notice as I was reading a piece on children sneaking into a 1960’s cinema. All of a sudden I heard her muttering several piercing phrases over and over “come on”, “please don’t do this”. As she was doing this, she was tugging on the arm of her husband. It was immediately evident that the old gentleman was not in a good state. The gentleman was bending over at the stomach, as though he had passed out.

It was the woman’s voice that struck me though. Over and over those words “please don’t do this”, “come on”. Adding to the feebleness of old age in the voice, there was also a sense of desperation, there was history of love, and the sense of loss she feared was near.

The love between the two was what really hit me. If I estimate this couple were well into their 70’s, then you could say they have spent over half a century together. The events they would had lived through together: the onslaught of Nazi Germany perhaps, the 1966 World Cup, the moon landing, the Cold War, Thatcher, both in each other’s hearts. I imagined the 21 years I have known my parents and what they have gone through together, and imagine this couple have experienced more than double this. The children they would had had, their grandchildren, the holidays, their homes. All this history disappearing in front of my eyes. For a few minutes all this fear was being expressed by the woman in a few small words “come on”, “please don’t do this”. I put down my magazine, my eyes welling up- desperately trying to hold it in. I wanted to go and help, sure others in the carriage were trying to help, but I am a humanist, a socialist, a pacifist, an activist, sad when he sees the pain of others, but I just sat there, witnessing the fear of someone losing their history in front of my eyes.

The gentleman was suffering from heat stroke. I wish I had a bottle of water with me, I should have tried to help, but I felt helpless. Those words still haunting me, “please don’t do this” and the voice that pierced my heart.

The woman wanted to get off at Guildford, to let the gentleman off the train. She took his jumper, his coat, she added it to her bundle of bags, raincoats and umbrellas. I should have helped, should have offered to carry her coats, or give the gentleman an arm to help get off the train, but I just walked off when we reached Guildford.

I do not even know if he is all right.

I had 25 minutes to wait until my next train. I could have carried him, I could have bought him some water, I could have waited with them for an ambulance, I could have tried to comfort that voice echoing those same words, “please don’t do this” “come on”, those words not of sadness, but of desperation, of history, of loss and of fear. But I did not. I walked off. I do not feel human anymore. All those years of helping and caring for others has been eroded because I did not do anything, and I do not know why. I was in no rush, it was not as if I did not care- I was holding in my tears for goodness sake! Now I feel my soul has been ripped out, and replaced by that same feeling of loss, of history, of desperation I felt in those few words, “please don’t do this”.

At work I deal with complaints from farmers- who have a high suicide rate. I read of elderly farmers with poor health, of suicidal farmers, of farmers who are struggling to provide for their families, and what more, I know their names, these entities now have names, they have histories, they have souls. A colleague stated that you start to become thick skinned as time goes on, which helps you cope. Well I do not want to become thick skinned. I want to feel others pain, I want to feel a sense of human bond and compassion, I want to cry when I see others lives being destroyed right before my eyes, I want to keep my love of humankind, and I want to keep all these emotions that help me stay human. If we all become thick skinned then no one would care, and this world would be such an awful place. “Please don’t do this”. I wish I helped. Why did I not help? I want to be human again.

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