Category Archives: Expat

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You Ain’t English! – The Ride Turns Ugly On A London Tram

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I’ve been writing fast and furious over the last few days trying to meet my goal for NaNoWriMo, but I had to stop for a minute to send out a thought on some nasty business that happened on a London tram the other day.

The language is really rough so be aware before you click on the highlighted link above.

I’m not sure how they found her, but Emma West was arrested for her racist rant yesterday and I’m sure many will be watching to see the outcome of her court appearance. At least 2 million people have seen the video, and I have to thank one of the bloggers I read for alerting me to the news story.

I just watched the video a few minutes ago and was shocked by the foul-mouthed rant of the woman who was holding her child in her lap. One woman spoke up to her and then another woman joined in, but only because the shouting had bothered her baby who can be heard crying in the background.

While working on my novel this month, I’ve been seeing the world and it’s events differently, more like scenes in a movie as the chapters in my book develop. After watching the video, I couldn’t help but visualize a different ending than the one the people on the tram had to tolerate many of whom are not British by birth and probably feel a bit displaced already without being confronted by such a venomous outburst.

In the movie scene in my head, I wonder …

What might have happened if when the woman began shouting, ‘ You ain’t English, and you ain’t English either ‘ as she was did to those around her … what if one person on the tram had launched into a loud song, one uniquely identified as a song all Brits and many expats would know, a song that’s sung at public events by the masses and is usually one found in the group below.

What if one voice became two, and then three, and then four, until one by one the voices of everyone on the tram were joined in song so that in the end both immigrant and British born citizens were singing so loudly that her voice could no longer be heard.

That might have shamed her into silence and made the people she was insulting feel better for a moment, but I’m not sure it would have had the impact needed to bring some greater sense of community in the mix of cultures that call Britain home.

Maybe this is a wake up call for a dialogue of some kind. I know there are strong feelings out there, I hear the rumblings too sometimes, but there has to be a better way than the one Emma West is teaching her child.

Isn’t it time we work on finding it and if not now, then when?

Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak.

 ~ William Congreve

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More Than Just Turkey – An American Expat Explains Thanksgiving

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Turkey & The Trimmings

Since moving to England, I’ve had to explain a few American holidays with Thanksgiving being one. There seems to be a lot of confusion here about why we celebrate it and what it is exactly.

Most people know about the turkey, but not much more than that.  A young woman asked me the other day if it’s like Christmas for Americans only without the gifts.

Suppressing a laugh, I said there were no presents at Thanksgiving and that like others who celebrate Christmas, we save our gifts for the tree, not the turkey.

I told her about the early settlers and how fortunate the Pilgrims were to be fed by the Native Americans when there wasn’t enough food to go around.

I talked about how it’s a celebration of family by most and a gathering of people who sit down to tables loaded with memories created from family recipes passed down through generations.

I forgot to mention how it’s football and alcohol and a chance to over-indulge in more than just food for some folks.

I didn’t say much about the thanks in Thanksgiving or how we talk about gratitude and blessings, generally sharing some of what we’re grateful for before the first fork is lifted.

I didn’t say how it feels to be so far from my other home on days like these or how we really do exchange gifts in a way although not the kind that can be purchased from a favorite store.

I should have talked about the gifts of memory that are mixed in with the pie and family favorites, and the stories of loved ones long gone who come alive for a moment when we remember them, especially when we join hands with those sitting next to us, bow our heads and give thanks.

Most Americans, with me included, tend to make a big to-do about the turkey and the trimmings, but in the end I think we just want a little more time with those we love and whether it’s in person, or in memory, Thanksgiving forces us to focus on what really matters.

Happy Thanksgiving to friends and family who celebrate this day.

If you have a gift of memory you’d like to share, I’d love to read about it. Please leave a link if you have one on your blog today or tell us a family favorite that comes up each year. 

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One Boy’s Life & Mine

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John Winchurch - Sea Cadets - Wales (Double-click to enlarge)

If you look, you can see my husband in this photograph watching with eyes that are no longer a boy’s, but not quite a man’s yet either.

Growing up in Wales he had the benefit of living half a mile from the harbor in Tenby where he sailed the boat he built with his younger brother’s help. They were both Sea Cadets and for a while John thought he’d join the Royal Navy when he was older. His father talked him into waiting. ‘ Go to University first,’ he said,’ you can always join the Navy afterwards.’

By going to the University at Cardiff, John chose a different path than the one he imagined as a boy and although he never joined the Navy, he still loves the sea. He doesn’t look back the way I tend to and he doesn’t waste energy on regret. Most of my life, I’ve learned by observation and his way looks more peaceful than the route I usually take.

I’ve spent years reading books on letting go, forgiving yourself, and moving on, but living side by side with such a peaceful loving man, I find myself absorbing his natural way of living more in the moment. While I am not wholly a woman without worry and likely never will be, I can see myself changing as my tendency to cast wistful glances of regret over my shoulder at the past, slips away a bit more each day.

It’s funny how the decisions in our life seem to stack up like dominos with those made years earlier affecting the path we find ourselves on later. Fifty years after this photograph was taken and when the time was right, John’s path converged with mine.

I think about that when I look back at decisions I’ve made in my life, especially the ones that I’ve wished I could undo, but one thing done differently and it would all be different.

Can you find my future in the photograph …

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What Happened To My Peanut Butter?

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Smart Balance Peanut Butter

I reached for a recently opened jar peanut butter today, only to discover it had been moved and I couldn’t find it. John had rearranged the shelf where my peanut butter stock from America sits while looking for something for his lunch.

Peanut Butter Supplies

I buy it at Walmart and you’d think that since Walmart owns ASDA, (a grocery store near us) I might be able to find it here as well, but they don’t carry it so I’m forced to bring it back in bulk in my checked baggage.

The TSA folks always go through the plastic bags I wrap it in and rightly so. Imagine all of those jars lined end to end looking like rounded rows of things we’d rather not have mucking up our air safety.

I thought I had plenty to see me through until my next visit stateside, but I was shocked to discover that four jars are all I have left.

You probably think I’m overreacting and it is kind of funny in a way to think of a 51 year-old woman as peanut butter dependent, but I am going to be in a real fix if I don’t get some more. We’re talking withdrawal symptoms!

Smart Balance Peanut Butter With Omega 3

Four jars are nowhere near enough! While I’m not a vegetarian, I don’t eat a lot of meat. I usually have it once a week or less so peanut butter is an important source of protein for me. They do make it in the UK, but I’ve not found any as tasty as the Smart Balance brand or with such a healthy balance of ingredients.

Smart Balance - Quick Facts

I had fifteen jars in total when I flew home to the UK on August 3 so it doesn’t seem so far-fetched to me to think that something must have happened to it. John insists that I’ve eaten it, but I’m beginning to wonder if the fairies have been nipping into the cupboard for a taste.

Empty Jar of Smart Balance Peanut Butter

Sigh!

Do you have any food you’d miss if you couldn’t find it where you live?

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Sheep Encounters

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Sheepish E - Elizabeth HarperNormally, which really translates into always … I carry a camera of some sort. When I’m out on a run, I take my iPhone because I can listen to music, make a call if necessary, (As in I’m lost somewhere in England … help!) and most importantly take a picture when a perfect opportunity presents itself.

Fuji -Elizabeth Harper

When on a hike or just traveling around, I carry my little Fuji Finepix Z100, a great little point and shoot I bought after I got here and found my larger camera to big to haul up and down the coast path.

Rock Climbing Cornwall

When I need more power and picture quality as in when I’m shooting a wedding or doing some portrait work I use one of my Nikon D200’s.

Dancing - Elizabeth Harper

A couple of days ago, I went out without my camera and I missed a perfect photo opportunity while in the homeward stretch of my run. I was running down the very narrow lane in the picture below while listening to music on my iPod, not my iPhone when all of a sudden there were 20 or 30 sheep racing down the lane in my direction. Notice how narrow the lane is in the picture below. Lanes are roads wide enough for one car or one woman, or twenty or thirty sheep, but not all at the same time.

Reaching - Elizabeth Harper

If you notice all the green on the hedges of the sides of the lane … you should know that there is a sticky (ouch!) plant called a nettle which lives in the hedges that look deceptively beautiful.

Nettles

If you touch it even slightly, it causes a lingering stinging sensation that will still be sore the next day. It feels a bit like a burn. Notice the spiky things sticking up on the under side … avoid those spikes!

Toothy Sheep

We saw each other about the same time … at least the first few sheep noticed me and slammed to a halt causing the sheep running behind them to bump in to the ones in front. For half a second we just eyeballed each other uncertain how to respond. I was thinking, “ Why didn’t I bring my camera?” I’m not sure what the sheep were thinking.

E Hedge

All of sudden a white dog looking a bit like a wolf comes tearing down the lane behind sheep heading straight up the side of the lane where I’m standing. The sheep begin to run in my direction and as they race my way, I fling myself into the hedge not even remembering the stinging nettles in an effort not to be run over by the wooly mass coming towards me.

Sheep

The white dog shoots past me and runs around to the front of the escaping sheep and goes down on his front paws into a position that the sheep understand as turn around, ” Boys … we are going the wrong way! ”  In one quick motion the sheep turn and run back up the lane, through the gate, and into the field where the farmer stands waiting.

Seeing the sheep are safe, I pull myself out of the hedge and go off in search of some dock leaves to rub on my nettle stings to reduce the ouchy side effect of my sheep encounter.

Dock Leaves

Dock leaves, nettle stings, sheep encounters, every day is a new adventure … does it get any better than this?

 

Reposted from original GOTJ

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Washed Away

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Wellies - Washed Away

The constant rain over the last few days has made it easy for me to spend what seems like an endless amount of time staring into the screen of my computer.

I’ve been editing the 3000 plus images I’ve snapped on our adventures around the southwest of England over the last eight weeks sorting though the best ones to share in this space. In each one I’m struck by the lush green that provides a backdrop to this blooming paradise.

Rain is an absolute requirement for the never-ending sea of green. The breath stopping beauty depends on the watery bounty that falls sometimes for days. It’s an unending form of nourishment from the blue grey clouds that frequently dot the Cornish skies.

In the rare moments lately when the clouds hold back and we have a bit of weather relief, we pull on our wellies and tromp about the countryside like a pair of nine-year old boys stepping deep into the mud of the moor. Decorating the waterproof legs of my rubber boots with mud spatters like some sort of earthy Jackson Pollock, I love the freedom that comes with knowing that it’s just a bit of mud and that the next deep puddle I wade through will provide me with a clean canvas and a chance to do it all again.

I can’t help but think how wonderful it would be if all the mistakes we’ve made in our lives could be washed away like that. What if all the errors in judgement, thoughtless acts or careless words could be washed from our memories, slipping away with a splash or two of water from the next waiting stream. Just think how healing that might be.

I am inclined to wonder that if by freeing ourselves from the muck of our memories we might lose some of the fertile ground that spiritual and psychological growth needs to continue to flourish.

The lessons of life cling to us instead like dried mud on our boots sometimes flaking off a bit at a time, sometimes requiring a good scrubbing, but in no way easily dismissed.

Perhaps that is as it should be.

Reposted from original GOTJ

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Independence Day

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American Flag - Elizabeth Harper

‘My Country, ‘Tis of Thee …’  are the words running though my head this afternoon.

I left the United States seven and a half weeks ago and aside from a few passing moments, I have not been really homesick until today. Today is the 4th of July, if you’re reading this and you’re an American, the date has meaning. Today in England, there is nothing on the news to indicate what’s happening on the other side of the ocean. The US seems to make the news here everyday, but today, when I’d like a glimpse of home there is nothing.

Cullene's Table - Elizabeth Harper

I’ve tried to create a bit of flavor from home by making some of my favorite family recipes. Things you’d recognize on any table at any gathering on July 4th.  I thought it would help, but I think I miss the traditions of the day and the people I love from home even more.

Watermelon

My sister in Alaska quite sweetly made me my very own version of a Peachtree Road Race number with a few modifications to fit my geographical location.  I usually run this race every year with exception of a few when I’ve been out of the country on vacation. I spoke with one of my closest friends this morning as she was preparing for the race. We ran the Marine Corps Marathon together last October and it would have been fun to run the what is touted as the world’s largest 10K run, with her today. It’s limited to 55,000 runners and the race numbers are almost as valuable as one of Willie Wonka’s Golden tickets.

Race Ticket

The weather here was quite different from the 91 degree heat I noticed on the Atlanta Journal website. Of course it’s always heat stroke weather for the Peachtree and it would not be right if wasn’t hellishly hot. Which is why when I looked out the window today and saw the weather here, I decided to skip my morning run.

Water Window

With the windy wet weather we’re having here, our barbeque chicken had to be cooked in the oven instead of outside on the grill. John keeps referring to the amount of food I’ve prepared for just the two of us as a feast. I can’t help thinking about my dad manning the grills on the 4th. Yes, you read that right. I said grills as in at least two and sometimes three. Chicken and burgers and ribs … oh my! Even though there were usually only five to ten people at our house on the 4th, my dad would cook as if the whole neighborhood would be on the doorstep before the day was out. We would have leftovers for days … with so much chicken you’d think you were going to start clucking if you had to eat another piece.

July 4 Lunch 2008

It’s been a quiet day here at my home away from home. Thanks to my sister in Alaska who took the time to dig out some family genealogy …we’ve spent a bit of the day reading about the life my ancestor, John Sparks who along with many others fought for American Independence.

Apple Pie

It’s late evening and John and I have had our first 4th of July together. We’ve had a lovely meal and lots of conversation about the ways our respective countries are both different and alike. When I went to Wikipedia to see who wrote the lyrics to ‘America’ also known as, ‘My Country, ‘Tis Of Thee,’ I found that Samuel Francis Smith wrote the lyrics without knowing that the melody he was using was the same as the one used for ‘God Save The Queen,’ the national anthem of the United Kingdom.

Imagine that … I guess in some ways we’re really not that different after all.

Reposted from original GOTJ

Sorry to have such tiny photos, but the originals were smaller on the first GOTJ blog.