Dickinson College Humanities Program in Norwich

This summer I went to my local bookstore to pick up some of the summer reading for this course. I also decided to splurge on some travel essays and one very large guidebook. One of the books that caught my eye was Kate Fox’s Watching the English. In this tome of valuable information, Fox breaks down the hidden rules of English behavior…everything from food rules to dress code. Fox is not only an anthropologist, but also an English woman and her ability to laugh at herself and her people make her observations both accurate and amusing. I was laughing the entire time I was reading. The way she writes is so witty and entertaining that I found myself both apprehensive and even more excited to come to London. How was I going to survive in a place where it was not socially acceptable to smile at strangers as I walked down the street? I was also particularly worried about my laughter. As most of you now know, when I find something funny, I will laugh… loudly and for a long time. I can’t control it. I was worried everyone in England was going to think I was just the stupid American who is always loud. More about that later…Fox concludes that all these behavior rules revolve around class. You do things the way you do because of your class, plain and simple.

One of the most fascinating aspects of this theory has to do with language. I’m sure most of us have noticed that even though we are in England, there is not one generic English accent. And, according to Fox, “one cannot even talk at all without immediately revealing one’s own social class.” The indicators are in both the pronunciations and word choice. I’ll elaborate on one of my favorites…. ‘Pardon.’ The English apologize for everything, even if it’s not their fault. If you bump into an English person on the street, they will probably apologize anyway. However, the word they use is an immediate indicator of their class. A lower-middle of middle-middle person will say ‘pardon.’ A upper middle will say ‘sorry-what?’ and an upper class person will simply say ‘what?’ Ironically the same response of ‘what?’ is also used by the working class, although they may drop the ‘t’ to make it ‘wha-‘

So, we have leaned that speech is the most immediate and most obvious way to place a person within your class GPS system. In Lee Hall’s The Pitmen Painters, one of the first interactions between Mr. Lyons and the group of pitmen involved differences in speech. Mr. Lyons could not understand their thick accents and different pronunciations. Obviously Mr. Lyons was speaking what is commonly known as “Oxford English” whereas the pitmen were speaking in their own regional dialect. The Ashington group was a group of brilliant artists who just happened to be pitmen. But the people around them would often jump to conclusions when meeting them due to their speech. In Blood Brothers twins Mickey and Eddie were split up at birth and raised apart. Mickey remained with his biological mother in a working class environment. Edward (Eddie) was raised by the upper class Lyon family. Mickey points out the language differences from the first time he speaks with his brother by making fun of Eddie for his ‘posh’ phrases like “shag the vicar” and “smashing.” It’s the little details reveal the most about class differences. Although the brothers were great friend in their youth, it was the struggle between their classes that eventually led to tragic downfall. Your accent and speech does not reveal anything about your accomplishments but it does place you somewhere on that class scale. In a nation where verbal culture is prized over any sort of palpable or physical expression, language is the primary tool for recognizing social status.

The one place where all these class rules are put on ‘hold’ (well, I’ll let you decide) is the pub. The pub is a place with its own customs and is the main place of social bonding. Like in most cultures, the drinking-place tends to be socially equal or at least the differences are based on separate rules from the rest of society. Therefore, the pub is not really place of social or class equality, but the class differences are judged differently or are suspended whilst inside the pub. Only the English would have a completely different set of behavior rules specifically for the pub. I can’t believe these people sometimes. In a striking contradiction the rest of England, the pub is one of the few places where you can start a conversation with a complete stranger…as long as you’re not too forward and ask their name. This rule only applies at the bar counter and the fact that you go to the bar to order food and drink (rather than having someone come to your table) forces one to be social. It just keeps getting more and more strange. The art of queuing is quintessentially English. Always respect the queue, at the store, at the tube stop, wherever. But in the pub this rule changes. Instead of the usual neat and orderly structure, the thirsty pub goes all hang around the counter. This is what Kate Fox calls the “invisible queue,” where both the publicans and the customers know their positions in the waiting line. Everyone knows who is next and if you try and get service before your turn, the bar staff will ignore you the rest of your stay. One evening last week was a part of a group who decided to grab a drink at The Court, a local pub on Tottenham Court Road.  We accidentally placed ourselves outside the range of the invisible queue to disastrous consequences. Not only were we yelled at in front of the entire pub, it was hard to get service the rest of the night.

That aside, I have had a great time every time I go to a pub. It’s a great place to people watch (one of my favorite pastimes) and see the rare interactions between the English. Of course, all pubs are not created equal. I will agree with my classmates that The Court caters to a younger crowd and is the kind of place where our American volume is somewhat more acceptable, whereas the Marlborough Arms is great place to grab a meal and to catch up with your fiends. Nothing against pubs like The Court, but I prefer places where I can sit down and not have to yell across the table to be heard. I guess that’s my inner 60-year-old woman talking. Besides, the chicken and leek pie on Sunday nights at the Arms is fantastic! Pub culture is a valuable part of life in England, and most people have found a pub that really fits their personality or lifestyle. You can lean a lot about the English by observing what goes on in a pub, and at the same time, you have to leave the pub to fully understand the culture. This place is full of contradictions. While I am yet to become a ‘regular,’ I hope I can investigate more of this strange phenomenon of the England when I get to Norwich… I might even find a football team to support.

To recap, everything is about class. Each social class has identifying elements that place one in a certain class. Don’t say ‘pardon’, avoid using fancy French words like serviette, and mind the invisible queue at pubs. We will all be reading Watching the English once we get to Norwich so now you all have something to look forward to. Keep an eye out for these hidden behaviors. I find it all quite fascinating. Also, if anyone feels like pie tonight, meet me at the Arms.

It’s taken me a while to formulate my thought about religion and identity, but I think I can finally say something on the topic.

Sikhism and Hinduism are fairly new to the UK, as Sikhs began immigrating overseas in the 1950s, after the liberation of British India (1947) and the division of Muslim Pakistan from Hindu India (this division cause fighting in the Punjab region between Muslims, Hindus, and Sikhs). According to the BBC, while Hindus also began immigrating in the 1950s, Hindu immigration particularly increased in the 1970s when Indians were forced to leave many newly independent African countries, such as Kenya and Uganda. In London, these groups settled into lower class areas, such as the East End where immigrants have traditionally lived since the Huguenots. As we learned from Salaam Brick Lane and Brick Lane, this area often suffers from racial tension and violence (though the neighborhood has been gentrified a bit since Tarquin Hall’s days on Brick Lane).

If our visits to the Southall Sikh Gurdwara and the Sri Swaminarayan Mandir in Neasden proved to me one thing, it is that Sikhs and Hindus are clearly still seeking to find their place in the larger London society. Each place of worship we visited had numerous pamphlets and other resources for learning about their religion. Within these pamphlets (and of course the exhibition on “Understanding Hinduism”), both religions cited famous white guys praising the peacefulness of the corresponding religion. I don’t mean that sentence to sound as cynical as it might seem, but it just appeared to me that the institutions were really trying very hard to find a way to convince outsiders not to fear what is different. However, instead of simply informing visitors of their beliefs and practices, it was found necessary to justify these beliefs and practices with a white man’s approval. The most blatant example of this can be found in the “Understanding Hinduism” exhibition at the Mandir. In the section, “Hinduism for the individual,” the exhibition reads: “Hinduism, through its heroes and history, relays the real values of life. As George Bernard Shaw confirmed…” This statement raised a few questions in my mind. Most importantly: What makes George Bernard Shaw the authority on the “real values of life?” Shaw was famous for many things, but I’m fairly certain an expertise on Hinduism is not one of them. I would much rather hear the Hindus’ or the Sikhs’ own views on their religions, as I did not feel such justifications helped me to learn.

I would also like to comment on an observation made by many classmates in blogs and conversation about the relative modesty of the gurdwara when compared to the highly decorated mandir. In any religion the size and intricacy of a building of worship is determined by the community in which it is built and the amount of funding available. I’m sure none of the churches in our neighborhoods compares to St. Paul’s or St. Peter’s. In the same vein, the gurdwara we visited doesn’t compare to the Harmandir Sahib. The mandir in Neasden is much grander than mandir near my house in Somerset, NJ. The places we saw were single examples of larger religions and we must be careful when making observations about the religions as a whole.

Whenever I’m given a difficult topic to write about I try to go back to the basics. What is identity? According to Merriam-Webster, identity is the “sameness of essential or generic character in different instances” or “the distinguishing character or personality of an individual.” So, how can this be applied to immigrants in England?

In the various immigrant neighborhoods we have visited, it is clear that the communities are attempting to maintain some sort of “sameness of essential or generic character.” They built religious institutions, opened shops and restaurants, and created a small community that is similar to their home. In other ways, the community’s identity is forced to change when it moves to a new country. The environment is different. Ways of dress could change. New languages are learned in order to get jobs and communicate with others. A new country presents many challenges for an immigrant group and at some point something has to give, and not everything can stay exactly the same.

On an individual level, it’s much more difficult to generalize how one’s “distinguishing character or personality” is challenged by immigration. As we learned from Brick Lane, many times a person’s values can be completely transformed. When Nazneen first comes to England, all she wants is to return to Bangladesh and she never speaks out against her husband. By the end of the novel, she refuses to return with him. We’ve also learned about some of the challenges faced by second-generation immigrants. Magid, Millat, and Irie are caught between two worlds: their parents’ expectations for them and their own society. The ease of adaptation is also affected by economic status. Doctors and grad students face different challenges than do poorer people forced to live in violent neighborhoods.

When someone asks me “where is a good pub?” I have a hard time responding. What exactly is a good pub? Each and every one brings something different to the table that makes it unique and appeal to a certain crowd. I will explain this simply by comparing and contrasting three of the places I frequented the most within the vicinity of the Arran House.

The “Marlborough Arms”, located just a minute from the Arran House was an extremely convenient place to go for the first few days here. After visiting a few other places I quickly learned that the Arms is best suited as a great place to grab a meal with friends (preferably on a weekday) since it features a complete traditional pub menu and ample seating. The bartenders there are friendly and welcoming and even make the effort to card people once in a while.  

“The Court”, located on Tottenham Court road and about a five minute walk from the Arran House features a completely different atmosphere. If you’re looking to get a full dinner this is not the place to go. With a setup more like a college bar The Court is two floors with a decent amount of space to sit both inside and outside. Open late every night of the week the Court draws in a large crowd regardless of the evening. The jukebox is always blaring with pop and rock music and there are pool tables upstairs for anyone who’s feeling ambitious. The major draws for “The Court” are that the drinks are a bit cheaper overall and it draws in a younger crowd. While the average age at the Marlborough Arms was usually between 30 and 40 The Court drew in a mostly 18-28 crowd. This makes sense since it is located just a block away from The University of London. 

Another place I frequented was called the “Bricklayers Arms”. Located just two blocks past Goodge Street Station and a block down Rathburn Street, I had gotten recommendations over and over again about the B.A. from people who had studied in London in the past. I soon learned that the major draw of the Bricklayers is twofold. One: it features the cheapest pints of ale around (2 pounds) and two: it serves Samuel Smith’s which is nearly impossible to find. Much like The Court, the Bricklayers Arms is not the place to go if you want a full dinner. It is also not the place to go if you want something besides ale since the selection is more limited than other pubs and  isn’t really worth the price otherwise. 

To connect my experience in London with George Orwell’s essay “The Moon Under Water” I appreciate that Orwell has his own criteria of what makes a good pub. Although I do not particularly agree with him in every case I like that he knows exactly what he’s looking for. Although I have some idea of what I like in a pub I will need to do much more exploring to find what exactly my tastes are. As Orwell so elegantly puts it: “I know pubs where the beer is good but you can’t get meals, others where you can get meals but are noisy and crowded, and others which are quiet but where the beer is generally sour.” This explains why there are so many pubs and why they all stay in business. I suppose like a man or woman there is a perfect pub out there for everyone too. Here in London we are all on a constant journey to find our own “Moon Under Water”.

Throughout our time in London, we have been fortunate enough to go to a large variety of shows.  Some of been concerts, including a stint at the Proms, a free Watch This Space African-fusion band, and the Phantasm piece we heard in the Church of Saint-Martin-in-the-Fields, but we have also seen Shakespearian plays, 20th century works, and now a musical.  Despite all of these experiences, many of which I have blogged about previously, I think that the two most recent works we saw, The Pitmen Painters and Blood Brothers, have the most similarities and differences between them.

The first was the Pitmen Painters, a wonderful tale that explored the meaning of art and what art is to each and every individual.  What I really enjoyed about this particular play was the brilliant characterization of the pitmen by both Lee Hall, the writer, and the actors.  Through the progression of time, the characters managed to go from knowing practically nothing about art to appreciating the outlet that art is offering them in their daily lives.  In one part of the play, Oliver has an epiphany that makes him realize that the art class he was taking could allow him to do bigger and brighter things outside of the small mining town he has lived in for his entire life.  Despite the fact that nothing really ends up coming from this for Oliver, this realization, and his turning down of a possible patroness earlier in the play,  come back to haunt him when he realizes what he could have been if his circumstances and social class had been different.

The second was Blood Brothers, a rather mediocre story that explored the lives of twin brothers separated at birth and how they grow up in very different social circumstances.  The first main issue I had with Blood Brothers was that the sound was off the entire show.  I have a music background and I adore musical theatre, so it really bugs me when a professional theatre puts on a show, let alone a musical, and the sound is off for the whole performance.  That was one major strike against them.  The second issue I had wasn’t as much with the performance of the show, but the show itself.  Though I can tolerate her, I am not a big Marilyn Monroe fan.  Why, oh why, was she a reoccurring theme of the show?  There was not only a song titled Marilyn Monroe, but also three reprises attempting to tie the blond actress to the circumstances of the Johnston and Lyon families.  If this musical was a paper being graded, the links between the families and Monroe would not stand up for any professor or high school teacher I have ever met. 

Why, oh why, Marilyn Monroe???

The main thing that these two shows have in common (other than a character named Mr Lyons) is the exploration of problems between social classes.  In the Pitmen Painters I got the sense that the miners want to take an art appreciation class in order to get an idea of what the higher classes spend their copious amount of time and money being patron to.  This juxtaposition between the high class art and the working class pitmen is a reoccurring theme.  Throughout the play the discomfort of the pitmenin noble homes and art galleries is evident because they feel that they are not worthy of being in these elegant spaces.  Although the sentiment is similar in Blood Brothers, the comparison of social classes comes on a much different scale.  From the beginning there is a clear-cut comparison between the dingy home of Mrs Johnston and all of her children with the elegant and cleanly-kept Lyons home.  As the show progresses and Mickey and Eddie become the focus as young children, the lines between social classes are blurred slightly for them.  Both Eddie and Mickey know that they aren’t supposed to go to the other’s part of the neighborhood, but they act as children do, playing games and going on adventures.  By the end of the show, the divisions between the twins become even more evident.  Mickey is laid off because of cuts at the factory, while Eddie brings home friends from college in order to have a massive New Year’s party.  From this point on, social class is the most important factor in the show.  In many ways, both boys end up dead in the end because of the constraints put on them by social class.

Mostly people go to pubs because of a certain atmosphere, good service, good ale, etc. But why I really like pubs is because of their diverse, and often strange, names. Within walking distance of the hotel we have a few pubs with names such as The Court, The Brick Layer and Marlborough Arms. Stopping at the Brick Layer’s Arms pub the other day got me wondering about pub names in general.

After reading an article from the London Times it gave me more insight into the meaning of these names. More than just leaving you to question if these places serve bodily parts, these names tell about the history involved with the place. The Times listed the five most used pub names as of 2007 which were: The Red Lion (759); The Royal Oak (626); The White Hart (427); The Rose and Crown (326) and The King’s Head (310). After reading further into my post, you’ll learn probably why a few of these names are so common.

Some pub names are sometimes easy to figure out, for they often have religious, political, heraldic, personal, occupational or sporting names. A religious sign might have objects such as a lamb and flag (representing Christ and the Christian flag). Many decided to show allegiance to the monarchy and have names such as The King’s Head (or Arms) or The Crown. Nearby to the hotel, The Brick Layer’s Arms pub was probably named such because of the trade that went on in that area. Also close by there is a pub named The Marquis of Granby, which I learned with a quick search that many pubs were named after this man. Apparently John Manners, the Marquis of Granby, was a general in the 18th century who looked out for the welfare of men upon their retirement and established funds for the creation of taverns, thus why many are named after him.

The sign though is the beacon of the pub, and a way to attract its visitors to it. For those who could not read, the picture was how they often distinguished one pub from another. The Times states, “before the widespread use of signs, pubs would hang a recognizable object, such as a boot or a bent branch, which became known as a crooked billet.” Another website on local British history, Britain Express, http://www.britainexpress.com/History/culture/pub-names.htm
remarks that this practice originated in Roman times where they would hang vine leaves outside to distinguish the place as a tavern.

Pubs are not just a place to eat or drink, they each tell a story about the history of England and their location. They can also tell about the politics or the status of the place and the owner. So the next time that you decided to go drinking or dining at a local pub, perhaps take a moment and consider about the meaning behind the sign. Perhaps after you figure out its past (potentially dark) and you may decided you might not want to stop there for a drink!

My time in England is almost up. I have done more reading on Roman London that I care to share with someone I would maybe like to keep as a friend. I have been to many neighborhoods in both the East and the West Ends of London. I am not only very good looking man but like to think I’m intelligent. Despite this overwhelming evidence that I would know at least something about London, I am stumped by a six letter word that nearly every single British person uses on a daily basis: “cheers”. In my time in this country, I have heard it used in no less than five different situations. For example, I recently had the following conversation with a cashier at Boots:

(I walk up)

Cashier: Cheers

(He checks my items and I hand him money)

Cashier: Cheers

(I am handed my receipt and walk away)

Cashier: Cheers

While I haven’t actually confronted a British person about this, it is astounding to realize the flexibility of a word that truly has next to little relevance in terms of its actual definition. The only problem is, that as an American whenever I’m greeted with the prospect of responding to “cheers”, I usually come miles short of saying anything intelligent/intelligible. I instead find myself in the simply perfect situation of mumbling something and proceeding to exit as quickly as possible. My guess is I still have a lot to learn. I can only imagine how such a word got to be such that it can be used for literally every situation, but the easiest guess to make is it originated from pub culture in England.

In terms of drinking, socializing, and the combination of the two, I feel like England and most of Europe are light-years ahead of us. In the United States, we have come under the unfortunate situation that drinking has become very much like a forbidden fruit for anyone who is legally prohibited to consume alcohol. Rather than just acknowledge that alcohol exists, we Americans in general treat it like it is something that should never be done by teenagers at any time, which of course then makes it thousands of times more desirable to do. When we are finally able to do it as young adults, we make the mistake of centering entire events around it, making it difficult to casually drink.

In my time in London pubs, I have seen quite a difference in their drinking culture to its American counterpart. The first and most interesting difference is the time in which people go to pubs. While in America it is generally seen as uncool to go to a bar any earlier than 10pm, large crowds of people in England are already drinking outside of pubs as early as 4pm. Already, this signifies that people are not so much interested in getting drunk than just having a few drinks. The other major element that seems to warped in American drinking culture that the British have also got right is the social element. In the United States, bars have been turned into places to meet people romantically (or not so romantically). English pubs on the other hand seem to be more open socially. On a clear day, you can typically see just as many people outside of a pub mingling as there are people inside. Additionally there doesn’t seem to be any strict groups, as people just float from one group to the next at will. Because all of the forbidden nature of alcohol has been removed from their perception, British people can instead enjoy both nice ale and the company of friends without sacrificing one for the other. Whether America catches on seems yet to be determined, but in the meantime I will gladly take advantage of the generally more pleasant British pub culture. Cheers.

I feel the need to pop the Blood Brothers cherry in the Norwich Humanities blog. Let’s just say I wasn’t exactly impressed, to put it lightly, nor do I think many of us were. Unfortunately, I’m not a great lover of musicals in general, so I already had a bit of a strike against me going into the performance, but I felt my mind was open enough. After the first number or two, I began to realize what I was in for, though I tried my best to take the play for what it was all throughout the first act. Unfortunately, what it was was an over-the-top, stereotypical fluff musical marred by samey 80’s inspired music, bizarre British superstitions, melodrama, sound mixing that was too loud even for me, and too many mentions of the name “Marilyn Monroe.” By act two I could barely keep it together. Every time the narrator/Greek chorus/God figure made an appearance onstage (which was about every thirty seconds), Sarah and I would start snarfing, and then the Bon Jovi-esque drums would come in, and it was all over for me. I think my lip is bleeding from biting it so hard, and the narrator man is going to haunt my dreams.

Perhaps I’m being a bit harsh, but some of my attitude is coming from being a bit punchy from working on my walking tour for too long. In all honesty, I thought most of the acting was quite good, especially given the fact that the actors didn’t often have a lot of character to work with. I also thought the story itself actually had potential to be interesting, even though it’s one of those stories you come across several times a lifetime (I was reminded heavily of the Prince and the Pauper and even White Teeth, though the themes are a bit different in the latter). The “nature vs. nurture” theme is an interesting one to consider in light of the class structure in England, since at the end Mickey laments that if only he had been the twin to go to the Lyons’ his life would have turned out very differently, without pain or struggle. This is an interesting note to end on without further exploration in the play, since the wealthier characters never seem to be happy with their lot, either: Mrs. Lyons was unable to have a baby, and when she finally got one, she lived her whole life in fear of anyone finding out what she had done, and Eddie was torn between two worlds, as well as struggling with his secret love for Linda. I understand that the play is supposed to be a tragedy, but I would have been happier with the ending if I got more of a sense that the characters (or the ones that were still alive) had learned something, rather than just crying over the dead bodies before the curtain dropped. And there was a standing ovation. There wasn’t a standing ovation at Pitmen Painters, but there was for Blood Brothers.

Frankly, I just don’t think there are many musicals out there that will ever grab me (besides Urinetown!, but the whole premise of that one is to mock musicals themselves). I also thought Blood Brothers suffered from a severe case of melodrama, cookie-cutter characters, overproduction (I mean, really, I don’t need a drastic light cue as well as an ominous synthesizer noise to tell me something’s about to happen)…and those damn 80’s hair band drum fills.

     This post is in response to the excerpt that Professor Qualls shared with us from his upcoming book. In this introductory chapter, he raises several key points which translate into our discussions about race, ethnicity and identification in London.

     First, he uses the term “identification” rather than “identity.” I feel that this terminology is much more appropriate – even somehow liberating – in that it implies a choice and agency whereas the term “identity” connotes a sense of inescapability.  

     Second, Professor Qualls claims that “[a]s with memory, urban identifications are both internally and externally manufactured.” This can be seen in London, especially. The language barrier and cultural difference that immigrants inevitably experience coming to a foreign country certainly play a role in this “process of identification.” It is reasonable that immigrant communities would identify much more readily with a community that theirs their cultural, religious and linguistic traditions. It is the external forces, then, that cause problems.

     Indeed, Qualls mentions that “[i]dentification can be either categorical or relational.” When outsiders (external forces) categorize or imagine relationships between immigrant groups where none might exist at all*, they are essentially “othering” those populations, isolating them from the rest of society and making it virtually impossible for any foreigner to feel comfortable here, let alone the possibility of “assimilation” – which I think is a completely ethnocentric idea to begin with.

     It is not the responsibility of immigrant populations to adapt to the country in which they are residing, so long as they learn to respect that country. But this is a two-way-street. Locals must also learn to respect those immigrant populations which whom they share their space.

     Particularly in London, these unique immigrant communities are what makes the city uniquely “London.” Or, to, yet again, quote Qualls: “maintaining past traditions was essential to the stability and happiness of the population, which in turn would reflect well on the central regime.”

*Some of you may remember the story Andrew Fitzgerald, Andrew Barron and I shared with you at the beginning of the course: At our market in Elephant and Castle, we witnessed an altercation between a darker-skinned customer and a white, cockney fruit and veg vendor. The vendor called the customer a “Paki” and obviously had no legitimate basis for determining this man’s ethnicity. Just because the customer had darker skin, the cockney vendor “related” him to a Pakistani. This is a dangerous comparison which only serves to fuel racism.

Shame on you, Mr. Orwell, for stealing my pub blog post opening gambit: talk about all of the little aspects of my idea of a perfect London pub only to reveal that regrettably (spoiler alert) no such pub exists. That was totally my plan halfway through your essay! Sure, you wrote yours 63 years earlier but, come on, mine is actually for a grade.

With only three and a half weeks of London under my belt I wouldn’t profess to know as much as George Orwell about London pubs, but I had intuitively been coming to the same conclusion before I read The Moon Under Water. No pub (speaking for myself) comes even close to appealing all the time. If I want to have a quick pint or two and a plate of chips with a few friends on a weeknight, I’ll go to the Marlborough Arms. If it’s a weekend night and there’s nine of us and I want to be packed like a sardine and converse in my loudest American voice to cacophonous strains of either Aha’s Take On Me or Franz Ferdinand’s This Fire, I’ll head up to The Court. If I’m feeling adventurous and looking for something new, I’ll head farther afield. I’m surprised Orwell found a single pub that even satisfied eight of his ten criteria, actually, although it was a different era and he’d been to a lot more pubs than I have.

I don’t think I’m really getting that much of a sense of British culture through going to pubs yet, but it certainly does seem to be one of the only public spaces we’ve seen that does seem to have any degree of sociability. The English don’t seem to usually be gregarious with people they don’t know ever ( be it on the tube, in the park or at a pub), but it is the only place we’ve seen the English really commune with friends and share stories, celebrations, anxieties etc. This obviously is the same with American bars, but the ubiquity of pubs (although they’re getting less ubiquitous) and the fact that it’s socially acceptable for everyone to go seems to make them more of a fixture in British life. I’ve sensed some disappointment that so many pubs actually seem to have a mostly age 30-50 clientele, but I think that’s proof that pubs are a centre of everyone’s social life , much in the way that bars were in the US until about the 1970s.

I have a feeling going to pubs in Norwich will give me a lot more insight into pub culture in England than being in London has. I would imagine pubs will be even more central to social life in a city without the myriad other diversions London has, and the lack of tourists and recent city transplants will perhaps make for a more typical English pub scene with more regulars and lower prices. I know I’ll be comparing and contrasting the experience of going to pubs with other students and the experience of venturing into pubs in the city (and comparing and contrasting the places we go as well) once we’re there.

Oh, and Mr. Orwell, let me tell you about my favorite London pub. It’s a little off the beaten path but still close by. It’s called the Moons Over My Hammy, after the borderline inedible Denny’s breakfast entrée and thus is full of ironic Americana décor. However, everyone there (but me) is English, and unusually gregarious. There is plenty of seating indoors but a good atmosphere out on the pavement, too. There’s a different football match on every TV screen, and you don’t need to buy a drink to watch. The music is always great and (this is most important) every hour starting at 10 (on the hour) Darude’s techno-pop hit “Sandstorm” is played, and everyone dances intensely for its duration. Oh yeah, “Sandstorm.” I understand this is fanciful and unrealistic, but so is the idea that there ought to be a pub somewhere just for you.

This past Week we had the privilege to visit Barclays Wealth Management, the Royal Albert Hall as well as the Globe and the National Theatre (both on the same day). I am an American Studies major, therefore the fields of business, economics and “wealth” are, unfortunately, of no interest to me, yet something about Barclay’s sparked my interest in more than just the economics of wealth.

We sat through an intricate presentation titled “The City of London and the Banking Sector,” from which I learned the following:

-The City of London and Canary Wharf are London’s financial center

-London is the main European banking center and hosts the largest international insurance market as well as the largest foreign exchange market

-There was a credit crash in 2006 which caused a major job loss and the downhill slope of the stock exchange

-Barclays Bank is located in 60 different countries, 140,000 employees

-The company manages the wealth of people who own a “fair amount of assets,” “fair”=”wealthy”= £1,000,000

-The GDP in the world’s major economies dropped to the negatives by 2009, and are expected o rise in 2010

-UK’s average salary is £28,000 a year

-Most wealth still resides in the US but Asia currently houses the fastest growing economies in the world; Barclays seeks to expand to Asia

Oh and last but not least, the workers of Barclays Wealth Management are given two days of the year to go and do community work at an assigned institution.

After their very interesting presentation, I approached one of the employees and asked him to tell me a little bit more about the type of philanthropy they are engaged in, he was excited to explain. He stated that there is a philanthropy department of the company who is in charge of helping wealthy people decide where to put their money, in other words which charities are more logical to donate to. I did not take this idea very well, but what can I do, I guess at least they’re pretending to care about the community. Evidently, based on their presentation, all that they really care about is making money. I am glad to be embarking on a path extremely distant from the business world.

All of this money talk and then “As You Like it,” a play of comedy and love the next day, “Pitmen Painters” later in the afternoon. To be capable of attending two plays in one day after a presentation about wealth management makes me feel extremely privileged. I just had a moment where I realized how lucky we are to be in our very own shoes. Dickinson (and all affiliated donors and organizations) has truly blessed us with the gift to see and experience a world not so different from our own, yet filled with new adventures to seek.

Summary: Braclay’s Wealth Management cares about making profit and I care about plays that both inspire and entertain the soul.