Why do they wear hats?

A Swiss take on East London

It is always interesting to hear what people have to say about places that you are familiar with; to get the outsider’s eye. I have commented before how I often feel I have acquired this outsider’s eye even in the country I grew up in, but I still obviously have a different level of familiarity than that of a tourist on a flying visit. Having landed at City Airport, I was then standing next to three Swiss university students who had been on the same flight from Zurich. They were gently mocking the ‘very British’ accent and doing what is often amusing to do in a foreign country; repeating the announcements of the station names in their best British. In my experience it is more amusing in a country where they consider one vowel sufficient in a ten-letter word, such as the Netherlands.
The girls on the DLR were clearly excited about their trip to London. In their polka-dot mackingtosh, Converse trainer combo, they actually looked more London that Zurich. They observed that the brick houses were cute; they would love to live in a brick house with a coloured door. Then they spotted the more common sombre sky-high rise blocks of East London; ‘can you imagine living there?’ said one, as she took out her pink Pentax to immortalise the multi-coloured laundry hanging out to dry on the balconies-come-entrance halls of these blocks. I realised that I evidently turn a blind eye to the sad poverty of it all; you grow used to such sights in London in a way that you never do in Zurich.
The girls were excited by a red bus. I found that quite endearing. It is so interesting to notice what other people find fascinating, for them to point out that in fact, little brick houses are quite appealing. They said less favourable things about the torrent of rain that was bucketing from the heavens, but I guess they’ll still get used to that.

Mind the Gap

I am beginning to believe that the United Kingdom is inhabited by mindless idiots. Or is it just that those running it believe it to be. Or is it?

(I think the BNP might argue the UK is being stuffed full of idiots, but that is an entirely different matter.)

When I return to the UK and hop onto a tube, a bus, a train, I feel my stress levels rise rapidly, sometimes to the extent that I worry steam might be coming out of my ears. It is simply impossible to relax on a train, for example. Public transport in the UK is undeniably linked to social class in the majority of cases, to a much greater extent that in other European countries, such as France, Spain and definitely Switzerland. So if you are not a fan of those groups of louder than average Elizabeth Duke jewelled Everton supporters, then trains are certainly not for you.

What bothers me more is the treatment you get, as a paying passenger, from the tannoy. Mind the Gap. They don't put similar signs up on limestone pavements in Yorkshire, and really, you have to be an ejjit not to mind the gap, but really, does it need to be announced every second minute, several decibels outside of your comfort level?

We are approaching Diss. If you are leaving the train at Diss, please take care to take all your belongings with you. (Oh no we're not approaching Diss, we have to wait outside the station for ten minutes while the driver of the train (that was supposed to have made a space for us at Diss station) takes a leak.) It is notable that there is often a pause between the announcement that the train is approaching the station and the name of the town itself, while the train driver wipes his Upper Crust sandwich crumbs from his daily script and attempts to pronounce the town name, making sure to drop all 'h' and 't's so that he does not sound to snobby to the proles aboard.

Train travel in theory should be a pleasure. In the UK, I fear, it will never become that the choice beyond those who have no choice; it is geared towards those who have no other way, which only pushes those who have a choice to choose an option that does not make them feel like a degenerate.

Surely I do not need reminding to mind the gap every 120 seconds? And what's this you keep telling me about a heightened security risk? And why do I need to know that eleven people have broken their hips falling down these very stairs in the last 365 days? And do I really need telling that the doors are closing?

And how the hell do I get you to shut up dear Mr Tannoy Man?

British polyglots

http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2010/feb/12/polyglot-language-teaching-demand

The future is not necessarily in language teaching in primary schools, as Ruth Collins suggests, but rather in highlighting the relevance and the context of foreign languages to blinkered islanders. Make school exchanges easier, emphasise fluency and enjoyment rather than grammatical perfection. I think that until the UK ceases to see itself as a superior island, an 'exception culturelle,' languages in the UK will never really catch on.

The BBC could help enormously by showing films in VO, with subtitles rather than horrendous dubbing, and radios in the UK should provide a platform for non-English language music. Gordon Brown could help by ensuring that policies follow on through from primary school to secondary school. Exposure is the key; and exposure to foreign cultures and languages is fairly non-existent in the UK (with the exception of the US), compared with the inter-cultural melange you see and feel on the European continent.

Kinder leicht!