Make 'em Laugh, Make 'em Laugh, Make 'em Laugh....

I’ve got bats in my belfry.

Seriously.

There is an old belfry above my room that was closed off long ago. I kept hearing scratches on my ceiling at night, but I thought that it was simply the local pigeon population taking shelter from the impending rains. I casually mentioned to Michael (the guy who seems to run everything in this place) that there were pigeons nesting in the secret room above me, but he laughed and said, “Oh, no. Them’s bats.”

Cool.

My accent is still hard for people to understand, especially if the person is foreign. I feel for them...they learn English in one accent and here comes this crazy American with her diphthongs in all the wrong places. I’ve often received the wrong order for food, and I’ve come to realize that it’s because they tire of having me repeat the same thing 20 times, so they just pick something close to what they think I’m saying. Yesterday I craved soup, so I found a noodle shop and went in for a bowl. I ordered vegetable noodle soup, but when I got home I had some kind of horrid concoction that I later worked out was fish ball. Fish ball. No, really. People eat that nasty here. It was like brine-flavored dough balls.

I always get take away because I still can’t understand the tipping system. I was told that people make 6 pounds an hour at restaurants and pubs so tipping isn’t necessary, but I always feel the American guilt of $2.12 per hour. It’s easier to just get take away when I can, and even then I’m always unsure if I should tip the take away as well. But the guilt is less pronounced.

The differences between American Life and English Life are very similar, but it’s the small things that catch me up. When I walk down the sidewalk I always yield to the right, which is what we do in America because that’s the natural flow of traffic on the street. Here it’s backwards, so I’m constantly running into people before I realize that it’s my mistake.

Another thing is the names for things. Breakfast is the same, but our Lunch is their “Dinner” and our Dinner is their “Tea.” It took me a while to figure that out, and I received some odd looks from the various Sitters (that’s what I’ve decided to call the people who just sit down and start talking to me) when I said, “I’m going to get some Dinner” at 7PM. Excuse me, I mean 19:00. Shirts are “jumpers” and sweaters are “vests.” Fries are “chips” and chips are “crisps.” Cookies are “biscuits” and the only crackers they have are called “cream crackers” - which have no cream in them. I checked. Oh...and a soda is a “squash.” How weird is that?

The street lights are different here as well. They not only blink when they are about to turn red, they blink when they are about to turn green. Very courteous.

They only have 5 channels on basic cable. You have to pay for a license if you own a television, and 5 channels is all you get. Actually, I’m not sure if it’s cable or not...it might be like our “national” channels. We have ABC, NBC, CBS, and FOX. They have BBC1, BBC2, BBC3, BBC4, and Dave. Yes, I said Dave. They have a channel here called Dave. I swear to god I’m not lying.

The best difference is the nightly News. The stories are read in a very posh and reserved manner (refreshingly devoid of sensationalism) ranging from city street problems to (gasp) a police officer who was accidentally shot in the foot during a training exercise somewhere in the North. But the big story this week was the MP vote on whether or not to extend the holding time for suspected terrorists from 12 days to 42 days. (Just for reference purposes, I’ll tell you that we have a 6 month holding period in the US.) It was a hot topic so every station carried the story, which was a lucky thing for me since it gave me my first insight into how laws are passed in the UK.

I’ve seen the Parliamentary process in films and television, and I always thought the yelling and carrying on in Parliament was over-dramatized for effect...a satirical look on those stodgy Brits. Oh, no. If anything, it was under-dramatized. There is such theatrics in British government - the monologues and the asides and the intrigue...and every statement is met by loud sounds of approval or dismay. It was like watching the controlled chaos at a football game. Or a Shakespearean play. Imagine that? Honestly, I couldn’t see how the hell they could keep the voting straight.

There are numerous rooms throughout Parliament, and to vote, the MPs (which I gather are like our Senate and/or Congress) vote by walking with whomever proposes the law. They literally walk. They step in line and peel off at varying moments which must make it hell for the unlucky person who has to tally the sheets. It was so confusing...MPs AGAINST the proposed law were running after the group FOR the law shouting obscenities and waving madly which makes me wonder if they were counted as supporters...but I’m sure they’ve been doing this a lot longer than I and know some trick of alerting the people counting the numbers as to which side they are on. It was highly confusing and deliciously entertaining. When the vote was read they acted like a WWF audience - everyone was shouting and pointing and hurling pens at each other. I thought they were going to tear the place apart. I was really excited now, thinking I was watching History in the making. “Parliament Torn Apart!” “MPs Gone Mad!” “British Government In Ruins!”

Then, suddenly, it was over. There was a disquieting calm and everyone started shaking hands and saying farewell. I was stunned. The MPs retrieved their pens and laughed jovially with the men they had thrown them at. Everyone strolled out looking as if they were all discussing the whether or not to meet for an After-Vote coffee.

Curtain up, curtain down.

But oh, what a show.

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Temperature today - 67 F

Temperature tomorrow - 65 F

Times I wish I’d brought a heavier coat - 32

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