Thoughts weave gently round my head (I think my mind is quite lazy at the best of times so in this druggish, heat-hazed atmosphere of homecoming, things are striking me in a slow-paced, sleepy-bee way. At least that is my excuse). African time, hey!
One thread that keeps coming up is people saying, “oh it must be such a culture shock to return innit, coming back ere to this miserable lot… it must be so unfriendly/cold/reserved here after all those places… people aren’t so open and friendly here are they compared with abroad… yeah these grunting English…” and all that kind of thing.
It is true people are ridiculously friendly in most places we went on our double-continent spree. And it IS different to here. And it is so easy to complain about how we don’t greet each other in the street in this country, that people don’t stand around and have time for conversations, how nobody smiles. But I do now begin to think those are clichéd and maybe not such true observations and in fact most of the people I know are extremely friendly, starting with just a few egs... my sister who constantly makes friends with the general population of London as well as the flies buzzing round her face (okay, she does have too much free time), that man in green on Carlton Road from the council who always shouted MORNING DUCK to me on my way to work and Dave Bowley who never does stop talking but hey nobody would want him to anyway… when you say hello people usually say it back with warmth and everyone generally seems to love a good chat.
People in England are friendly, they just maybe aren’t so curious about funny-looking foreigners (unless they are that way themselves), or they are so polite that they won’t make a fuss, they’d rather pretend everything was normal and nice, whereas in Tanzania or in Serampore they will damn well stop you in the street and find out everything about you cos you are a freak and they need to know. That way of being I do find more normal and honest and real I suppose, plus it leads to much more hilarity and interesting conversations. The more freakishness you interact with, the better and funnier and spot-on’ner the world becomes and the sunnier your outlook. I reckon.
What I propose is international exchanges for all from the age of 5, and you have to do it, just for a month or something. Every half a year or so.
But going back to the dour and frigid populace of old England, there is the other way of looking at it, which is maybe that we don’t have to be jolly and hugging each other all the time… there are obviously people who like to have private time, it’s just that in the context of being in India for example, it doesn’t work so well. People don’t understand the concept of alone, there, generally. And imagine if in Dar es Salaam any of us had got fed up with constantly talking to people and just didn’t feel like saying hello and excitedly explaining our origins every single time – what do you do then? And I can truthfully say I had moments when I just didn’t want to respond, or felt like making it up completely (as Ana did advise me to do after incredulously observing the barrage of questions rattled off at me on every train journey in India and as a result memorizing my life story by heart herself). There were moments when one of us might be hard-pushed not to snap at a persistent seller of something. Sometimes that can be irritating when people won’t leave you alone. But then that would be rude and there's no need and I guess the better thing is not to give in to impatience and… just give in and sit down and let it all flow. It depends on your mood, and luckily the 3 of us were pretty easygoing in that way, most of the time. And you can't really get mad with crowds of people who are just lovely and welcoming and whose intentions seem nothin but good-hearted! That really is a main difference between here and African places we visited - the feeling of the streets. I felt much safer and encompassed by warmth there than some places here...
So what can you say? Different cultures. Different ways of being. Different ways of groping each others’ tentacles… Lately I’ve come across various mentions of the ‘European’ habit of having less personal space. Why is that so important in some places and not even an issue in others?
My mum reckons in India they still haven’t lost the habit of living in herds like animals. That’s why it’s unusual to be a loner. Or at least you don’t often find people living without at least 7 other people around them. But surely everyone needs to breathe on their own sometimes. But then if you have grown up that way and that’s what you know, you think it’s all fine and normal… look at arranged marriages, eunuchs, the chronic infidelity of many men we encountered in Africa, willy-spearing and all those things that guy Bruce does in ‘Tribe’.
Many weirdnesses, I can tell you.
Anyway, yes, it is different in England but I didn’t find it a huge shock coming back, praps cos I hadn’t been away long enough to forget what it’s like and praps cos experiences like the ones we had recede quickly although they are still intense and memorable, just stored away for future perusal because now it’s a point where you have to think about what’s happening right now. Images keep flashing into my mind of places we were in, of conversations we had and feelings and funny people and beautiful sights and freedom and all the brilliant STUFF – but it’s also intense coming home after 5 months and seeing all the people you haven’t seen in ages and feeling the feelings of this time and being joyful in friends and family and SUMMMMERRRRRRRRR!!! As Ana says, it’s not better or worse, just different. We were trepidatious about coming back to routine and monotony and not getting up everyday to new adventures and possibilities. But I decided that in that case I would just have to keep doing that wherever, whatever. Woohoo!
Now that’s enough gayness from me.
x
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