This blog
post has spent several days in my head, numerous times the tips of my fingers have
hovered over a keyboard ready to write but I’ve never got past the first few
lines due to my increasingly sore head.
Like a sickly heroine from an Austen novel I'm prone to feeling
lightheaded and faint from being in ‘the wrong sort’ of light. This is always worst when it’s gloomy outside
and we have to use the dodgy overhead lights found in all offices that somehow
bounce pain straight into the back of my brain.
Anyway, this is finally me committing words to screen – hurrah!
So what
pertinent, amazing thoughts have I been thinking during those lost days? Mainly they have been about doing up my new
flat and my imminent bridesmaid duties. Amongst all that, I also had a
conversation about the differences between the Scottish and the English sparked by Andy Murray and the
incredibly boring 'is he British or Scottish' debate. He is of course both so let’s all stop having
that conversation and making ‘Come on Tim’ comments too while we're at it, it’s incredibly
tedious.
I’m
Scottish and have lived down south for almost four years (a year and a bit in
Norwich of all places and the rest in London town) and before I moved I never ever
thought about my cultural identity.
Since I’ve been here it’s something I have to talk about more often that
I’d like. Obviously there are
differences, my accent, words I say that I don’t realise - until uttering and
seeing confused reactions - are colloquial, food I crave but somehow
hasn’t found its way into the English diet.
But there are only three truly fundamental differences between us and
them, well, as far as I can tell anyway.
1. Talking about the weather
In Scotland it rains A LOT, it's cold A LOT and when there is no rain the
sky is still an ominous shade of grey.
So, on days where the sun shines and it is above 15°C we rejoice at our
good fortune. In England people seem to
be in a permanent state of confusion as to why it is not a tropical
paradise. Unless it is beautifully sunny
I am subjected to several conversations a day about why the weather is so
bad. It’s not bad, weather cannot
be categorised as ‘bad’ until your house is flooded or you’re snowed in. When that happens, let's have that chat.
2. Zebra crossings
The rules of the road are that when a pedestrian walks on a zebra
crossing cars MUST stop. In Scotland
this seems to be understood and people walk onto the road and expect the people
in the cars to know what to do. In
England this rule seems to not be taught to anyone. I walk past two zebra crossings on my way to
work and every day see people dithering at the side of the road waiting for the
traffic to stop. Hint, it will not stop
until you step on the bloody road.
3. Puns
I like to pride myself on being fairly amusing and being able to find
comedy in most things. There is only one
form of humour that I do not understand – puns.
The English LOVE a pun. Up until
moving I think I heard a pun-based joke as rarely as I saw sunshine. Now I hear them regularly and am unable to
respond because I just don’t get it.
Now, I’m no
anthropologist so this is just my anecdotal musings. However, I’m pretty sure that if David Cameron
worked on the three things above then there’d be no independence debate and we'd be one big happy family.
Oh you can't beat a good pun!... and I too lament about the lack of Aberdeen rowies south of the border.
ReplyDeleteYou can beat a good pun, preferably with an implement. You appear to be my sole reader Harding, I quite like the idea I'm writing just for you. xx
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