just had a lovely dinner with XXXX, his wife YYY and my man ZZZZZ... we ate at one of these 'natural' restaurants where on the menu. among other things, they had 'natural bacon'... when i inquired what was so 'natural' about the bacon... i was told that it came from a 'natural pig'... i naturally asked if that meant that the creature was allowed to roam free, oink its soul out and lie in vast pools of mud to its heart's content... the reply was that there was no way to confirm this though according to the 'natural' label the pig was fed all 'natural' food... and hence was a 'natural' pig out of which obviously came 'natural' bacon... after reviewing the variety of other menu options, it was clear that i had no choise and i ordered a cheeseburger with 'natural' bacon... perhaps because there was no assurance on the menu that the cow was 'natural' as well, the food stunk though the 'natural' bacon in of itself was ok....
there were two primary lessons that came out of this meeting of the minds...
first of all... having children seems like a lot of unpleasant work... you cant sleep... you cant leave... you cant do anything... and if you live in London, you cant even go outside... at least with the child in tow... apparently the 'children should be seen not heard' thing originated in none other but the land of passion and eloquence... uhmm... no... I mean land of drunken louts and bad weather... and not only will they not give up a seat to a pregnant woman on the bus (true story), not only will woman walking with a stroller in the park get robbed by some hoodlum (true story), but they wouldnt even allow a woman with a stroller into a perfectly respectable eatery in Maida Vaile (also, supposedly a true story)... Now this is is too much even for the tastes of yours truly... And I must say that if I didnt explicitly wish so in the past, which i just might have, I hope the English football team loses in a penalty shoot out of World Cup quarter finals every four years from now to eternity... amen...
second lesson i learned today is that no matter what... that second culture you live in is highly unlikely to be your favourite... and if one was to put odds on it, most likely your least favorite... i am referring here to the bi and tri-cultural ones out there who at one point lived in one place and then at an age of naive youth had to go live somewhere else... as a side observation, those who immigrated at a later age seem to have a more matter of fact contempt and derision for their second culture.... those who are younger - for them its more personal... perhaps because the older you are the more comfortable you are with where you come from and dealing with another culture becomes more a learning experience and perhaps entertainment than an all out personal challenge... which is what happens when you are young when you make the switch... and it seems the younger you are, when you make the switch... the more mythical and wonderful that first culture becomes and the more downright rotten and vile that second one is....
first of all... having children seems like a lot of unpleasant work... you cant sleep... you cant leave... you cant do anything... and if you live in London, you cant even go outside... at least with the child in tow... apparently the 'children should be seen not heard' thing originated in none other but the land of passion and eloquence... uhmm... no... I mean land of drunken louts and bad weather... and not only will they not give up a seat to a pregnant woman on the bus (true story), not only will woman walking with a stroller in the park get robbed by some hoodlum (true story), but they wouldnt even allow a woman with a stroller into a perfectly respectable eatery in Maida Vaile (also, supposedly a true story)... Now this is is too much even for the tastes of yours truly... And I must say that if I didnt explicitly wish so in the past, which i just might have, I hope the English football team loses in a penalty shoot out of World Cup quarter finals every four years from now to eternity... amen...
second lesson i learned today is that no matter what... that second culture you live in is highly unlikely to be your favourite... and if one was to put odds on it, most likely your least favorite... i am referring here to the bi and tri-cultural ones out there who at one point lived in one place and then at an age of naive youth had to go live somewhere else... as a side observation, those who immigrated at a later age seem to have a more matter of fact contempt and derision for their second culture.... those who are younger - for them its more personal... perhaps because the older you are the more comfortable you are with where you come from and dealing with another culture becomes more a learning experience and perhaps entertainment than an all out personal challenge... which is what happens when you are young when you make the switch... and it seems the younger you are, when you make the switch... the more mythical and wonderful that first culture becomes and the more downright rotten and vile that second one is....
And perhaps its a mental association game of sorts... kind of like most people dont have any 'negative' associations with extreme youth and childhood... and obviously the older you get, the more you get to live life, and the more you get to live life, the more 'negative' associations come about (dont ask me why, but thats how it is, or at least i am pretty sure)... so the younger you are when you switch cultures, the more one gets associated with the 'clean and immaculate' period in your life and the more the other one gets tied in with various natural complexities associated with it....
anyway, thats a stab at this topic though i clearly realize that there are vast dimensions of this argument that i am clearly missing...
2 comments:
Hmm... I happened to love my second culture, despite it's being the polar opposite in every conceivable way from my first... isn't it all a state of mind? With the right mindset, you can easily coach yourself into intensely disliking a new place - for some, it comes quite naturally - but you can also throw your energies into doing the opposite with equal success. How are you finding your second and adopted culture?
On a side note... your curse of the British was one of the most creative things I've heard in a while... high comedy!
Magnus
I think you make a valid point on this... and i think my discussion fell a little short in this differentiation... i think the difference that i failed to mention is whether the move is up, down or lateral in level of culture (not an insult)... as a brief synopsis, i think up sucks, lateral could potentially suck and down is usually really really cool... this theory explains your malawi feelings, but i shall expound on it at a later point... for this topic definetely needs further analysis...
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