As regular readers know, my adored husband is a half-Brit, which is not the same as a half-wit, but not totally unrelated.
Yes, that’s extremely unkind and so veddy-veddy not PC, but Hey!, some things just must be said.
Mark was born in England and passed some of his childhood there, but most of his growing was done on this small, tropical island instead of that large chilly one … a factor that factors in greatly in the fact that he and I ended up together.
I lived in England for a couple of years, and as Mark so Britishly puts it, life there “didn’t suit me.” It may have been an easier adjustment if we’d lived in London … truly one of my favorite cities, and as much a city as a city must be to be interestingly livable … but we were in Bournemouth, which isn’t.
One good thing, however, about having lived in the UK for a spell is that it prepared me for life on a tiny rock in the middle of nowhere better than anything could have. I learned what education and medical care look like in developing nations, how poor service is no matter to anyone, how to cope with small mindedness as the order of the day, and what the world looks like from a vantage point that relies on shoulder chips and wannabes.
By comparison, Seychelles seemed progressive, lavish and open-minded … but there’s not all that we-used-to-be-an-Empire thing going on here.
Lest anyone think I went into English life prepared to rebel — until I moved there I was as Anglophilic as most Americans. All my impressions had come from encounters with the original Potter (Beatrix), Beatlemania, and London vacations that had me shopping at Harrods and hanging at Stringfellow’s.
I was convinced that life there was bound to be a combination of quaint and literary, with overtones of historic significance … and no little romance, of course, since I’d relocated to be with the love of my life.
Well, the romance was certainly no letdown, but the rest of it … ?
What I encountered was a rude population of cold fish with thought patterns I assumed had been left far behind in Western cultures. Racism, homophobia, religious intolerance, sexism, were all alive and well in Southern England in 1994.
One need only look at television programs like “Father Ted” to get an idea of how easily the British ‘take the mickey’ out of their Irish neighbors, and although the show cracked me up I was always aware of how offensive it must have been to Catholics.
If you’re wondering why I’m on this jag this morning, I’ll point you toward an article from the Telegraph that reminds me today of the backwardness of the UK that drove me up a wall while I was there. (This, in conjunction with summer day after summer day that saw the weather in Moscow 20 degrees warmer than the drizzly, damp and dreary days in Bournemouth.)
“How to … be a girl: 10 Things Every Girl Should Know” is the title of the piece that begs the question, “What year is this?”
Apparently a review for “The Great Big Glorious Book for Girls”, it’s all sugar and spice and everything vomit-inducing.
Some of the ten things?
1. How To Deal With Boys
2. How To Have A Best Friend
3. How To Cope When Your Best Friend Gets A New Best Friend
6. How To Keep A Secret
7. How To Tell If An Egg Is Fresh
8. How To Sulk
And some of the advice?
The main difference between boys and girls is that boys like doing things – driving cars, playing football, throwing stuff, eating, farting – and girls like feeling things, such as love, friendship, happiness and excitement.
Boys are very physical; girls are very emotional.
Boys are often spoilt by their mothers, so they have a tendency to think girls should do all the boring things in life, such as cleaning, cooking and ironing their T-shirts, while they do all the exciting things: jet-skiing, playing in rock bands, being spies.
The best approach is to put on a smiling public face. Be charming, be polite. Soon the horrible feelings of rejection will pass and you will be able to look back with gratitude that you behaved with dignity.
Excellent elements of sulking are the Black Look, the Deep Sigh and the No One Ever Understands a Single Thing I’m Going Through Shrug.
A sulk should be short and intense.
Thankfully, I’m raising my daughter on this island, not that one.
A collection of my short stories:
I'm in this one, too ...
And I'm in here, as well ...
Paradise Preoccupied 
Well I could go into a short intense sulk. But as a stiff-upper lipped Brit, I think I should point out a few things.
Father Ted was directed and written by Irish Catholics and was an even bigger hit in the Republic of Ireland than it was over here.
“The Great Big Glorious book for Girls” is a spoof, a satire on 50’s attitudes and not meant to be taken seriously.
And anyway what’s a nice liberal woman like you doing reading the Torygraph?
But I have to agree with you about Bournemouth. There’s nothing worse than a tatty British seaside town. I went to Hastings once and came away suicidal.
As for the attitudes you encountered, it’s a crying shame but too true in those parts of Britain. Aging seaside towns like Bournemouth are clogged up with retired publicans, army types and other assorted snobs.
That is why John Cleese wrote the spot-on Torquay based character of Basil Fawlty. See, us Brits laugh a lot more easily at ourselves than at others.
As for the rest of the country, it’s just not true that we’re a bunch of rabid homophobic racists, who think we still have an Empire.
I live near Windsor and Elton John had a bigger and happier crowd to see his wedding/civil partnership than Charles and Camilla did (they married in the same registry office) He’s a national treasure.
And the BBC’s smash hit children’s show, an update of Doctor Who, has a central bisexual character, the gorgeous Capt Jack. It’s produced by the marvellous (and gay) Russell T Davies. The man who wrote the ground-breaking Queer as Folk.
We have one of the most multi-cultural countries in the world, something Brits are very proud of. My stepson went to a typical London school where over 30 nationalities, many refugees, were present. Consequently he can swear in Kurdish, Polish and Urdu. It’s good to know he learnt something.
Anyway GIVE US A BREAK. We have had a non-summer of floods, hail, and tornadoes. Followed up by attempted car bombs in London and a flaming 4×4 imbedded in Glasgow airport.
I’m expecting locusts and a plague of boils any day.
And as I sit here in my cold, damp isle I am reminded that unless I win the lottery I will NEVER be able to afford to go back to my favourite place in the world, Seychelles.
Sorry. My very non-girly strop is over. Please say hello to the fairy terns, fruit bats, and the huge spiders on the telephone lines. I miss them all.
‘old on, ‘old on! The Father Ted thing was supposed to be bait for someone else entirely! Crikey, you’re quick.
You know I LOVE England … now that I view it fondly from afar … and from awarm … and all of my best friends are Brits.
PS: Don’t mention the war.
Greetings, Sandra,
I did enjoy your posting, as I have lived both in England and Seychelles.
One thing that I noticed in your piece is that you forgot to compare those things that you hate about the Brits to the Seychelloises. For one, homosexuality is still illegal in Seychelles, albeit an archaic law inherited from the Brits.
Second, you can only enjoy life in Seychelles the way you are by being an expat. It is always nicer when you know you can always leave when the going gets tough, and it does get tough. At least in England you can meet up with colleagues and talk about what sucks with the system (whether it being the British or Seychellois system).
One caveat: Seychelles ranks above the US (where I presently reside) in healthcare, and the education system is based on merit rather than on how much you can pay.
All in all, I do wish that it was me with my feet up next to that deliciously chilled glass of wine on that verandah, if only for a day!
Oh well..
Hello Sandra – after too long
This is also Kate from near Windsor but no, not Response 1 Kate but “Gay’s Kate”.
Today marks My First Blog Experience – I’ve not yet got my head round this Blog Stuff – baring one’s soul to the world – & am not quite sure how I feel about it or what I think about it. I ask myself “Why?” – but then decide that people “talking” to people HAS to be a good thing, but it’s tinged with Why aren’t I spending an hour with a lonely person or Why aren’t I sorting out my loft.
Anyway, down to blogging. Your posting (see! I’m getting hold of the lingo already!) of July 8th instantly made me want to share MY big grouse about us Brits & our failing society – on the day after Cameron wants us all to get married – phew, lucky I can tick that box having married Jim 4 mths ago after 22 years together. We DON’T all need to get married to clear up the mess we’re in – we need to love, TEACH, nurture, support and enjoy our children. Easy! Sorted! ………..
But we don’t (and of course I’m generalising here). And because we don’t it’s all going/gone horribly wrong.
If we parents are honest & are diligent about teaching our children how to be honest we will produce honest citizens who don’t steal/burgle/mugg.
If we parents are truthful & are diligent about teaching our children how to be truthful we will produce truthful citizens who don’t lie/cheat/defraud.
If we parents are kind, considerate & caring & are diligent about teaching our children how to be kind, considerate & caring we will produce kind, considerate, caring citizens who don’t bully and hurt other people but are kind & considerate & caring to other people.
If we parents take constant care of where our children are, who they’re with, what they’re doing and provide healthy, valuable opportunities for the way they spend their free time, we will produce people who do not get involved with ‘dodgy’ people, who do not go to ‘dodgy’ places & who do not do ‘dodgy’ things (drugs, burglary etc) but spend their time with ok people in ok places doing ok things.
If ……….. yes I could go on & on & on & on… but I think you get my drift. I realise that My Plan isn’t 100% solid, & we will always have dodgy citizens, but far fewer than we have at present.
Britain is failing because the Brits are failing as people. Falling Standards as my Mum would say.
I notice that whenever I receive good service, guess what, 9 times out of 10 I am being looked after by someone who is here from another country. Interesting.
While I have finger to key, another of Britain’s problems is our desperate want, want, want society, our me, me, me society. Yet again we parents are to blame. We don’t do enough of Can’t Have. We don’t do enough of Think Of And Consider Others. We’re rubbish as parents.
Here’s another plan:
When you go to your Doctor at the beginning of pregnancy, within the NHS package of antenatal, hospital birth, postnatal & all else we are “given” you also have to attend parenting classes as part of that package. You attend during babyhood, toddler hood, primary years, secondary years right up to when the child is 18. Difficult to make compulsory of course, but this should just be accepted as the norm – everyone automatically attends. We are all taught & helped to have a baby. We are not taught how to look after it properly beyond how to nappy & feed. MADNESS! You sign a parenting contract. If you’re not prepared to sign saying you’ll attend, then the NHS cannot look after you in producing your baby – do it privately elsewhere.
All those of you out there yawning, the end is nigh.
I too love Britain. Wouldn’t live anywhere else in the world. But I fear for our future in Britain, & am glad that at 56 (yes I’m a grumpy old woman) I’ll be gone when we’ve completely blown it. I’m also very sad that my children & their children (?) will have to endure more years than I, of our declining society.
To finish on a cheery note, the bees are enjoying my garden poppies, a thrush is chucking the wood bark onto my green lush British lawn as it probes for insects and Woman’s Hour has been interesting this morning.
I can’t believe I’ve just blogged. Love to M, S & CJ xxxx
We appear to be the beneficiaries of a bounty of Kates! How wonderful!
I have always wondered what drove my ancestors to hop a ship and sail across the sea… (-:
I’m afraid living in Britain is out of the question for me as, the second I get off the plane, the damp weather clogs up my sinuses and leaves me in tears of pain for the rest of my trip.
Your blog does clear up for me, Sandra, a few lingering questions I had about my stiff upper lip British family and why I’ve always been the blackest of black sheep in my family.
Glad you found your love, found your home, are enjoying your beautiful children. It sounds grand!!
Wow! Do I feel bad to be a Brit?! I disagree with a lot you have said, but totally agree about the miserable seaside towns-and they are even worse in the winter! I lived in one for my childhood and it was empty of any life in the winter and bad weather to boot. Having said that whenever I visit my dear parents I miss the sea so much and go for nice long runs along the seafront to breathe that beautiful clear air in.
I think we are very multicultural and in general very accepting of every Faith, colour and sexual preference. Of course you always get the ODD anti!! Well Father Ted that is soooo funny, I think you know that it is great!!
Anyhow, my husband has just started the interview process for a job out in the Seychelles and I googled it-as I am such a Brit girl I am quite scared about leaving the gloomy rain of the UK!(yes we have had a week of sun so that is our summer done) Don’t know why….I love scuba, have 2 little ones and am sporty-will I fit in in the Seychelles? We visited 5/6 yrs ago and liked it but a holiday is a different thing to living there. What have you found good and bad? Maybe the job will not come his way….but I need to be prepared!! Thanks
Father Ted was completely Irish and complete genius.
But I know what you mean. Bournemouth? Just thank go you weren’t living in Portsmouth…. (or countless other drab drary culture-deprived poverty-stricken English towns). England has contributed much to the world, but it has so much that depresses you too…
Having grown up on the seaside in Maine (USA) and having spent many a summer day on the beach at Bournemouth, I feel quite confident in informing all of you that a seaside town is a seaside town is a seaside town. It sucks to live there but it is always great to visit during the high season.
I spent 5 years of my adult life living in England but 2 were in a suburb of Oxford while 3 were in a suburb or Cambridge. I was never at a loss for something interesting to do or see and attitudes ran the gamut. For the record, were I to involve myself in the British political system, I would likely be a Tory. My guess is that I’m a minority in Sandra’s readership but it doesn’t make me love her any less.
While I’m spouting off, I love Basil Fawlty and could be quite well entertained for years on nothing but reruns of Absolutely Fabulous, Coupling and Fawlty Towers. They’d beat the heck out of all this “reality” rubbish on TV in the US.
Sorry about the rant 🙂
Enjoyed reading your pages. I personally didn’t think that Bournemouth was such a bad place, but I do agree with another comment about Portsmouth ,although I have to admit to being a life long supporter of their soccer team.
I live in bournemouth. It can be all you’ve said, but still not bad compared to some places ‘up north’.
I don’t think bournemouth pretends to be a city, just a big (for this country) seaside town.
I believe i met you at the Westbourne medical centre some years ago, if it is you, i believe you have a borther who’s quite well known. LOL.
John,
How very small a world it is now that someone I met years ago in Westbourne finds my blog and leaves a comment.
I was in the UK in March and hoped to visit Bournemouth again, as I hear it’s changed a lot since the mid-90’s when I was there … still have friend keeping me up to date … but I ended up in North Devon for the whole time.
I actually have fond memories of the town … loved the Central Gardens, my stroll into town, and Westbourne pubs.
Have a half of cider for me, please. They don’t have that here and I do miss it.