So I’m pretty hard on Britain. With good
reason at times. The relentlessly drippy weather. The lack of space - indoor
and out. The stiff upper lipped locals with toxic teeth. Health and safety hypersensitivity.
Wayward-wheel supermarket trolleys. The deafening Heathrow flight path. I bang
on a lot about how different life is on mud island. And it is. No big
revelation there, innit. But there is good. I do enjoy many things
about life here. I thought I’d share the best of Britain, from a Saffa’s
perspective:
1) The
NHS. Ok, so the National Health Service here is like marmite. People either
love it or hate it. It’s mostly the migrants like us who love it. And it's the
locals who think it’s shite because they’ve got nothing to compare it to. In my
opinion, the fact that the state pays for all of your medical treatment –
whether it’s a bunion, a boil or a baby – is bloody (no pun intended)
marvellous. Coming from a third world country with no state-funded healthcare
to speak of and a medical aid industry that makes a killing (pun intended) from
the middleclass it’s a no-brainer for us to embrace a state-funded service that
gets it right most of the time. And cocks messes up only some of the time.
2) Security.
This one is bound to be raised. Or not raised is more apt in this context. The absence of burglar bars. Firearms. Alarms.
Panic buttons. Razor wire. Armed response. Electric fences. Guarded entry.
Gated communities. It’s not to say that crime doesn’t happen here. Of course it
does. It’s just not in your face. All of the time. People don’t live with a
panicked vigilance to crime. It’s refreshing to sleep with the windows wide
open. I creep downstairs in the early hours often. But it’s to check that I
didn’t leave the oven on. Not to see whether there's human-shaped shadow lurking in the darkness.
3) History
and tradition. The Brits do love to bask in a significant historical
moment. They go positively ga-ga for a bit of pomp and ceremony. With bunting
and a windband of course. Buildings and architecture are revered. As are
statues and monuments. And everything is old. Like proper old. We’re talking centuries
old. There’s a real passion for history here. And how it impacts today. It’s
pretty cool to have such a sense of respect for the bygone era and the diligent preservation of historical artefacts to share with future generations. I mean a woman recently received a 7-month prison sentence for urinating on a war memorial while she was on bail after urinating on it before. Actual jail time she's getting. With robbers and abusers and murderers. This war memorial is that important. And rightly so. In SA, we seem to be
smashing or burning ours. Makes for a nice change.
4) Parks
and recreation. It has to be said that there’s nothing more pleasant than a well-manicured bush. In a park
full of well-manicured bushes. With flowers and fountains. It’s all so
civilised. The children’s playgrounds are immaculate. No rust or ramshackle.
The sand even gets combed daily by the council for shite. Climbing frames,
zip-liners, pirate ships – it’s all here. For the children. And for the adults?
All the wifi, coffee and cake you can debit your card at.
5) Walking
culture. So in South Africa we drive. Everywhere. Here, we walk.
Everywhere. To town. To the park. To the river. To the station. To the pub. To
the hairdresser. To a curry night with the girls. Or a braai with mates. It’s
just what people do. And you don’t need pepper spray or a walking buddy either.
I march home on my tippy-toes (for those who’ve seen me walk) from the station,
along the river, under the bridge and I don’t look over my shoulder once. I
used to. Every 10 seconds. Until I realised that I’d become the threat. To
other people. Who started to give me a very wide berth. A twitchy white woman with a spastic neck lurching forward and backward in a nervous gait must've been a pretty scary sight. I now walk forward. With my head forward too.
6)
Education. State schools are free. And depending on where you live, they’re
good. Really good. The teachers work hard. They don't get paid like someone in Zuma's cabinet. But then they're not on the breadline either. Education is proper here. It's competitive. In the classroom and out. I've mentioned before about how my daughter is 4 and she can read. She'll be doing my tax return in a year or so. I do worry though about where the play went. And the sports. But this is what the world looks like now. And unless I homeschool my kids - which is about as likely as Donald inviting Syrian or Mexican refugees to take up permanent residence in Trump Towers - I go with it and hope for the best for my kid's education. Which is pretty much my own attitude to my own education all those years ago. The point is - with a British education it's not going to be long before my children will be a lot more clever than me. Without Google backup.
7) Inflation
of 0.5%. And I’m only using this in terms of groceries because what do I
know about anything else, really. So grocery prices very seldom increase
dramatically. The consumer price index is low. They take the cost of food very
seriously here. You pay for bread and milk pretty much what you paid a decade ago. Even petrol doesn’t really change dramatically in the way that we’re used
to seeing down South.
8) Public transport. In South Africa if you
don’t have a car, you’re pretty stuffed. Unless you live and work from home,
buy your groceries from the supermarket that’s next door, all your mates live
on the same street, the beach is around the corner and the doctor/dentist/pharmacist
are your other neighbours – you’ll need a car. Here if you don’t have a car it just
means you live in London. Trains, tubes, buses and taxis are how people get
around. It’s safe. Mostly. Unless you’re on a night tube and someone vomits.
That’s never safe. It’s reasonably priced. Mostly. Especially when you consider
what it costs to own a car: petrol, road tax, MOT, licensing, services and
parking. And it’s extremely convenient. Mostly. Unless someone decides to off
themselves on the tracks and there’s a moerse mess and an even bigger delay. Then it’s pretty
inconvenient. But all in all, the public transport infrastructure in the UK is fantastic.
9) Online retail. I shop for my groceries
online and a cheerful chap wheels them into my kitchen in very handy demarcated freezer, fridge
and cupboard compartments. Every week. At a time that I choose. He’s polite,
yet professional. He never accepts the tea and chat that I proffer. But he’ll always check
that my plums are firm, my baps haven't been squashed and my eggs aren’t cracked. From clothes to
camping pegs, beds to braai accessories - we even order plants for the garden
online. There is nothing that can't be delivered to your door. And if it’s
broken/wrong/late or you’ve simply changed your mind, you can return it. No one
gives you grief or charges you for stuffing up a size or making ridiculous fashion choices after you've had too much vino and decide a midnight retail binge is a good idea. And no one steals your stuff. Even a big shiny
parcel that the postie leaves on your doorstep with direct street access. Discovering a parcel
propped up against my door ready and waiting is a thrill that never gets old. Like
having my melons assessed for bruising or my rump delicately handled by the ever-faithful supermarket deliveryman. Never gets old.
10) The humour. It’s not for everyone. But
to me the British humour is hilarious. From sarcasm and sexual innuendo to
intellectual wit and banter with deadpan delivery – I love it all. Ok so I've got a pretty low bar. I laughed until I cried at Bridesmaids and I think I may have wet myself a little when I watched American Pie and The Hangover. But the British do it best for me. You know how I feel about Ricky Gervais. British comedy is funny when it's clever. And funny when it's not. When it's just coarse and crass. I laugh a lot here. And that's good. As Charlie Chaplin famous said: "Through humour, we see in what seems rational, the irrational; in what seems important, the unimportant." So I'll just go with that.
