Dickinson College Humanities Program in Norwich

The Notting Hill Carnival was not what I expected, but at the same time did meet some of my expectations. The ones it met: the drinking/party atmosphere (it also exceeded this one by a lot) and excellent food. The parade disappointed me; I was expecting more cultural representation and differentiation. Instead, I found it to be lacking. My initial reaction was, “Okay. This is different, but cool.” By the third “float,” however, I found them to redundant. The costumes were gorgeous, but some of the marchers should have rethought their costume decisions. Coming from a family that loves parades- we watch every Thanksgiving Day & Rose Bowl parade together- I was expecting different floats, all intricately designed and reflective of the culture of the community who put that float together. Instead, it was mostly people in sequined and glittery costumes walking behind a big truck (or double decker bus) that was playing loud music- some of which was American. I was hoping for a cultural learning experience, not a chaotic drinking party in the middle of the day posing as a cultural experience. Setting aside the drunkard-dodging and remixed American music, I enjoyed the carnival for the experience it offered; it was definitely a chance to observe the English in what Fox referred to as a “liminal” space. In different ways, I felt that people were more relaxed and open to just enjoying the experience. The typical English reserve seemed to be greatly diminished (among the sober and definitely not sober). It was a great overall experience, but I don’t think I would go to the Carnival in the future.

Billy Elliot, however, exceeded all of my expectations. It is something I wanted to see while I was here, but I never expected it to tie Wicked for my favourite musical. (Note: I’m a bit obsessed with Wicked. You probably don’t want to mention it in a 10 foot radius of me if you don’t want to get into a lengthy discussion.) About a young boy who discovers that he is a talented dancer and decides he wants to dance for life, the story concentrates on several of the topics we have (or will) discuss will discuss in class, including labor strikes, class, and the government. Throughout the entire musical, class is an issue. For the miners in Billy’s community, dancing isn’t something done. A male dancer is a “poof” not to be taken seriously. A career as a miner and providing a steady income for one’s family is the most respectable option. Billy’s dad is dead set against Billy dancing, but when he realizes he is so talented and can’t help but dance, he decides to go back to work in the mines. (They’ve been in the middle of a mining strike.) Breaking the strike drives a wedge between him and his older son, Tony. The representation of community in the musical, especially among the miners despite their hardship, is an excellent example of the way our readings have mentioned communities coming together. Furthermore, seeing this community on throughout their strike adds a human dimension that our readings could not express. It brought the stats to life for me, which is something that I normally look to art to do. The musical also touches on Thatcher’s government & the way that it reacted to the strike to break it. (“Merry Christmas Maggie Thatcher” had to be one of the most hilarious and poignant scenes in the entire musical, giving an excellent representation of how elitist that government seemed.) I could go on forever on the way that it relates to class. It’s an excellent musical that I think everyone should see. There is something for everyone in it, especially as we all consider the diversity of London, the struggles of labor, and the English class system.

Today I saw two very, very different sides of “Britishness,” one at the Notting Hill Carnival and the other at a West End performance of Billy Elliot. I was under the impression that the Notting Hill Carnival was supposed to celebrate the West Indian cultural heritage of the immigrants who came to the Notting Hill area in the 1960s and onward, but barr a lot of flags and glitter, I sort of missed the cultural celebration part. I got the celebration, definitely, but I was expecting much more emphasis on West Indian music, crafts, etc… Instead I heard a lot of American rap, dodged a lot of people drinking, and saw too many people wearing spandex and feathers who should really have rethought the spandex. Really, really rethought the spandex. Don’t get me wrong–the costumes in the parade were absolutely stunning, and the food was fantastic. It just seemed as if culture was put on the backburner so that drinking and partying could dominate the day. Kind of like Saint Patrick’s Day in America–a bunch of people dig up their Irish heritage (or fake their Irish heritage) in order to drink more for the day. Definitely very interesting to see, but kind of disappointing as a cultural learning experience.

Directly after leaving the carnival, however (which took some fancy navigating), I went into the West End to see Billy Elliot, which was so many types of amazing. As I was watching the show, I was struck by what a different type of cultural celebration it was–it concentrated exclusively on British working-class culture, particularly in Northern England. Stephenie, Matt, and I were talking during intermission about how much we could tie our readings into the show’s themes, and also about how we were really enjoying seeing a show that was so “British.” Lee  Hall, who wrote the screenplay for the film with Jamie Bell and then adapted it to the stage, had a piece in the program in which he talked about how creating a show that was true to the working-class culture that he came from. We’ve concentrated a great deal on immigrant populations to England, which is definitely an important and dynamic topic, but we haven’t really addressed white British culture too much. Billy Elliot centers around the coal miners’ strike during the Thatcher era and, allowing for theatrical exaggeration, is a really interesting look into the lives of working-class families in that situation. Some of the themes presented in the play really resonate with our readings, as well. Billy, a twelve year-old boy, wants to break with the family tradition of coal mining by going to ballet school, so his family has to learn to cope with his aspirations. His older brother spends an entire scene talking about keeping the family together and how hard it is to uphold family values in the face of economic desparity and change, which somewhat mirrors the immigrant experience. It’s a different look at what was happening in England during the 1980s, and I found it really interesting. It opened up the picture of British identity a bit more. And the music and choreography were stunning. I think that I overused the word “fabulous” by quite a bit. Yes, it’s touristy, but it’s an amazing show and could also be used as an interesting counterpoint to our discussions of immigration. Just be prepared to be singing the songs for a few days afterward.

What a difference four days makes! After walking the same streets around Notting Hill Station with relative ease during the first day of our program, I found myself attempting to move among hoards of people making their way to the Notting Hill Carnival. Above this text, you should see a side-by-side of the same street on the two different days, and hopefully you can see the incredible difference in the atmosphere. Not only were the streets much more crowded, but they were populated quite differently. While I found almost exclusively older, upper-class Caucasians on my first trip to the area, today I found a young crowd of great racial and economic diversity. Those that currently live here (and, apparently, have only moved here recently in what has become a gentrification of the area) seemed to not exactly gel with the carnival. One of the first things I noticed walking to the carnival was how many buildings were boarded up, just for the weekend. All of these boards, and I mean all of them, were already covered with graffiti (and they could not have been up for more than 3 days). I wonder if this graffiti was a sign of animosity between the carnival-goers and the new, wealthier, inhabitants of Notting Hill.

The Carnival itself was influenced by Afro-Caribbean culture. From the jerk-chicken stands to the booming reggae music, one could easily see this influence. Having visited a market in a Caribbean neighborhood earlier in the week, I found the differences in the atmosphere between the two quite interesting. The slow, charming pace of the market was completely different from the sensory overload on display at the Carnival. People were yelling, pushing, blowing vuvuzuelas, and partying to their hearts content. There was no discernable pattern to what was going on; it was just 3 square miles of chaos. Trash lined the streets (has anyone else noticed the overall lack of trash bins in London?) while signs of drugs were everywhere. While the music, food, and floats were certainly a sign of Afro-Caribbean culture, I felt, from my vantage point, that many in attendance were simply there to mindlessly, and dangerously, party.  

According to the website for the carnival (http://www.thenottinghillcarnival.com/history.html) , the festivities originated as a celebration of Caribbean culture, and was rooted in Trinidadian celebrations over the abolition of slavery. While this was originally intended as a moment of unity for Caribbean immigrants, what I saw today felt more like a big London block party that happened to feature Caribbean entertainment and food. Many of those involved in the parade likely knew the history and gravity of the Carnival, but those in attendance did not seem to be there for either a cultural experience or for the original unity that the Carnival intended to be about. I am not suggesting one way of looking at the Notting Hill Carnival is necessarily better. One can be there to revel in the history and culture, or one can be there to party (within reason, in my opinion). It is just interesting to me that there appears to be a shift in perspective of the event over the forty years since it began.

Whitechapel Market was in some ways exactly what we expected: predominantly Muslim and Hindu. There were Halal butchers, veils, saris and curry vendors on every corner.  Most shoppers had tan complexions and wore Islamic or Hindu clothing; however, there were also white, black, and East-Asian shoppers. There were some ways in which Salaam, Brick Lane and our other readings about immigration to the East End didn’t prepare us, though: we saw a handful of authentic-looking English pubs when we expecting corner-to-corner curry joints; when we had anticipated a rowdy, bustling circus, the market seemed so empty that at first we weren’t sure we were in the right place. We walked up and down Whitechapel Road looking for a more likely candidate, resembling the market of Hall’s Chalky and Mr. Ali. We eventually realized we were in the right place, but since this is the holy month of Ramadan, the market is a little more subdued than usual. We also noticed the stall-keepers were almost entirely male, and that many of the mannequins had pale skin and light hair. Among our favorite experiences: meeting a lifelong Londoner on a park bench and learning about the “decline” of the East End; being continually surprised by the various cultural characteristics and quirks of the East End population; and arguing about headscarves and religious tradition on a Bethnal Green picnic table. Hope you enjoy our pictures of the Whitechapel Market and the surrounding area – we really enjoyed our experience there, and we can’t wait to go back and see it after Ramadan.

Here are some links we thought you might like to check out:

This one claims to be the definitive website on Ronnie and Reggie Kray. You may remember these two gangsters from Salaam, and sure enough, when we asked our elderly informant about what he considers to be the “real” East End, the Krays were the first thing he mentioned. If you’re looking for a better idea of what the East End used to be like (and what some residents wish the East End still was like), take a look here.

See an informational website regarding Ramadan here.

The Royal London Hospital is located on the other side of Whitechapel road. There is a link here for more information about the hospital.
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The video on YouTube

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Video on YouTube

After we got off the Tube at Covent Garden, we were a little disorientd  so we asked a somewhat friendly-looking woman on the street for directions.  In an eominous harbinger of our afternoon to come, she responded- in a dead flat American Midwestern accent- “Oh, I have no idea, it’s my first time here, too.” We soon realized the market was located just down the street.  Within five minutes of entering, we found what the market was really about: a place for tourists and middle- and upper-middle-class locals to window shop and buy quasi-luxury items.

The first thing that surprised us about the market was the near total lack of ethnic food vendors. We actually only saw one food vendor, a fruit cart, despite the title Apple Market above the carts. Items for sale  included handbags, jewelry, soaps, and other window shopping items. All of these were conspicuously advertised as “handmade,” creating a sense of authenticity for shoppers. Several of the vendors also sold paintings of the more traditional parts of London;  items specifically for tourists. One vendor even had posters of American stars (i.e. Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe). These particular actresses are icons of higher class, which we felt reflected the classes that the market meant to attract. The area seemed to contain a lot of nouveaux rich items that would appeal to the middle- and upper-middle classes, as Fox suggests in Watching the English. The area seemed mostly designed for window shopping and watching free entertainment.

One of the entertainers, a melodramatic unicyclist, performed in front of St. Paul’s Church. There were two homeless men on the steps that most people seemed to be ignoring. The other historical area near the site was the Royal Opera House.  To add to the artistic atmosphere, flags and various paintings hung along the market’s rafters.

We were surprised to find that most of the people in the area were white considering the amount of diversity in London. The people also seemed religiously neutral, compared to others we’ve seen elsewhere in London—we did not see any religious indicators, such as headscarves or yamoulkas.

The buzzword for the afternoon was definitely “homogeneity.”  The market and its proprietors guarded the blandness of the place with extreme zeal. Ethnic restaurants (often chain restaurants) brandished flags with their countries of origin as if to make it obvious for tourists. A highlight of the unintentional comedy that this produced was a pub that hung a sign in the window saying: “Football colours are not permitted.”

The shops surrounding the market were equally lacking flavor.  Many of the retailers were large American companies, such as: Oakley, Build-a-Bear, and Disney.

Amidst all this complaining about Covent Garden, it should be mentioned that the area felt extremely safe.  We saw more young children in four hours today than we have seen in the fourty-eight hours we have been in London.  The area was very family-friendly and also seemed to be a popular date spot for couples in their 30s and older. Also, the market was not totally soulless, as we had two fairly amusing encounters.  First, we spotted a large group of men in rugby jerseys wearing obviously fake moustaches and Afro wigs.  We felt compelled to ask them what drove them to do this, and the answer was that there was a rugby final at Wembley much later in the day. They came to the market to get drunk (although they seemed pretty well-behaved and claimed that they were neutral in support). Second, one of us gave in to the entreaties of a very haggard street salesman (wearing a lanyard with a card that said “WORKING, NOT BEGGING.” The card was not as unnecessary as it sounds) and bought a magazine from him.  As he was clearly doing very poor business, we didn’t feel that bad chatting him up for ten minutes or so, a conversation dotted with some spectacular moments.  The most memorable line was “You’re from the States then? You have Christmas, we have Christmas.  But I have one big question: What the fuck is up with Thanksgiving? Seems like a bit of fraud to me.”

Leaving the Arran House, we decided to travel the Northern Line from Goodge Street to London Bridge. From there it was a quick walk across the street to Borough Market, which includes Jubilee, Green, and Middle Market. Borough Market can be found tucked behind the Southwark Cathedral.

Before we even fully entered the market, we were hit by a blast of smells. Borough Market is an upscale, artisanal food and foodstuffs market, featuring booths selling everything from specialty fromage, to fresh produce, seafood, wine and beer, and traditional and exotic meats– ostrich! The market was extremely crowded, with people walking through shoulder to shoulder. We were separated from each other at several points due to the shuffling throngs of people.

Due to the high-priced nature of the vendors, the patrons (minus tourists like us) visiting the market appeared to us to be of a higher socioeconomic class. Racially, they were fairly homogenous. Slight variations could be seen from booth to booth, depending on what was being sold. For example, Mikey was passive-aggressively asked to leave a wine booth as he was writing in his notebook, while the booths selling cider tended to cater to the less affluent.

There was almost every sort of food one could hope to find at a market, so in the blog we will just document some of the more surprising or delicious options.
The market as a whole was eco-conscious. Most meats and produce were organic/free-range, and packaging for products was often biodegradable. There were also many interesting and noteworthy foods that were available and that make Borough market worth the trip. At a sausage stand beef, wild boar, venison and ostrich were available (The ostrich, by the way, was delicious.)

At another stand a giant, sliced, puffball mushroom was available. Exotic and expensive fruits such as whole figs and pomegranates were available, and we passed a crepe stand offering fillings of the savory, spicy and sweet variety. Whole fish were for sale, along with squid, scallops and halibut.  We were intrigued by a stand vending elderflower cordial, though, as with most of the items of intrigue, it was pushing five quid for even a small drink. At a fine meat stand, there was a sign touting the benefits of the ostrich eggs they were selling- including the rather astounding fact that one ostrich egg is equivalent to twenty chicken eggs- as well as offering a kangaroo burger. We saw duck eggs and whole game mallards, whole hams and various wild boar meats. The upscale beer store was rather astounding as well.

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BsKDppaXydY
If anyone is looking for high-quality specialty foods, the Borough Market is the place. It is lively, expansive, and an a fun experience.

Today we were assigned to explore the Camden Street Market and the Stable Market. Four stops north of Goodge station we emerged into a neighborhood where London’s infamous punk culture is still thriving. Head shops, tattoo parlors, and jazz and rock bars lined the street as we made our way to the Camden Street Market. Residing in an empty lot designated for the market, the rows of tents provided the eager shoppers with clothing. After only a few minutes the group realized that most of the stands, which were run mostly by Southern and Eastern Asian immigrants, were hocking the same articles of clothing. Cheaply made summer dresses, sweaters, and tee shirts sporting ironic sayings and American pop culture icons were only a few of the items that we passed over and over again as we looked through all of the different tents. Although most of the garments did not have price tags on them, the proprietors were quick to offer “great” deals to us, which would become even “greater” deals after we had begun to walk away.

After emerging from the Camden Street Market we searched the neighborhood for the Stable Market. After around 30 minutes of searching (passing pubs with such colorful names as, “The Elephants Head,” “The Spread Eagle,” or my personal favorite “The World’s End”) we finally stumbled upon a crowd of people looking over the edge of a bridge. As we looked over ourselves to see what all of the fuss was, and soon uncovered the Camden Lock Market, and the Stable Market beyond it. These made up a sprawling market that seemed to run for miles.  In the Camden Street Market, the shop keepers were mostly English citizens who made their living selling among other things, hand made crafts, art, clothing, and antiques.  The shops at the center of Stable Market are housed in the dozens of old stables where over 250 of London’s horses were housed in the centuries before the automotive revolution. The market boasted as much diversity in its food as it did in its vast variety of vintage clothing. The mass of stalls prepared food from every continent (including Antarctica whose population of penguins eat mostly raw fish), which was perhaps, a vague reminder of the worldwide empire that was once ruled from London, as well as a sign of the how multicultural the city has become.  After three hours of adventuring through the market we were unable to see all of it’s shops or follow every vein of the market. Some highlights we saw were a spontaneous drum circle that had sprouted in the middle of an African drum store, a stall that offered foot messages to customers by having them soak their feet in a tank filled with fish, and cup cakes so small and well decorated that they would have put anything on the food network to shame. After a quick meal by the little river that snaked through the neighborhood, we gathered the bounty of dresses and skirts the girls of the group had acquired and regretfully said goodbye to the market, vowing to return again.

For more information see http://www.stablesmarket.com/

And for Time Out’s guide to the Camden Markets see http://admin.timeout.com/london/shopping/features/8798/Camden_Market_guide.html

Our morning started out great: a nice breakfast, an exciting market to explore, and a seemingly easy route to the Walthamstow market. Upon arriving at the Warren St station, we discovered that the Victoria line, crucial to arrive at Walthamstow market, was closed for engineering. We had been warned that we might want to check to see if all of the lines were working as usual over the weekend… However, we all took that as a “make sure you know where you are going” warning rather than a “look up the closed lines online before you leave” instruction. Oops. Once we figured out how to get to Walthamstow (Central line to Liverpool Street Station to catch the National Rail up to Walthamstow Central), it was a breeze. An hour’s worth of breeze, in fact. Once there, we quickly located the market, which was about a block away from the station.

Our destination, Walthamstow market, had a wonderful selection of fruits, vegetables, clothes, pots and pans, handbags, toys, lace, material, and other random items- all very reasonably priced. People arrived with empty bags with wheels to carry their shopping home. (One lady complained to a friend that she had bought too much and her husband was going to fuss at her.)

It was a very demographically diverse area, we saw people from various countries in Africa, Eastern Europe, the Middle East, and India. In the couple of hours we were there, we heard at least ten different languages. The vendors themselves were predominantly English or from the Middle East. When walking around the community, we noticed a multicultural center, giving us the impression that the community was aware of its diversity and more than likely sought a way to embrace it. Around the market were more specialized stores, which included fabric stores, grocery stores, candy stores, a Pound Power store (everything was a pound; equivalent to the American 99₵ store), and most importantly, a variety of cultural restaurants.

On our way back to the Arran House, we decided to be just a bit more touristy and take a double-decker bus to see more of the area and London itself. Seemingly great idea, but like this morning, it became a hugely complicated decision by a number of factors. Firstly, we weren’t sure what route to take because we were unsure of where in England they would take us. Secondly, when we did decide what route would be the easiest, we were unaware that the bus station we were at contained two other platforms; therefore we assumed the bus that would be the easiest to get back to the house did not stop where we were. After waiting for an alternate bus, only to watch it get full and drive off, we discovered our original bus did stop there- just further up the street! We ended up taking the 48 bus to Liverpool St station, catching the Central Line to Tottenham Court Rd and transferring to the Northern Line to Goodge St. Can you say HOME SWEET HOME?

For more info: http://www.walthamforest.gov.uk/index/environment/walthamstow-market.htm

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We spent the morning at Shepherd’s Bush Market in the area of Shepherd’s Bush, near Hammersmith. To get there, we took the Tube to Shepherd’s Bush station, a modern and pretty elegant-looking building. Once we were at the station, we actually had trouble finding the market. There were no obvious signs near the station, and the first person whom we asked had no idea what we were talking about. We took a wrong turn and wandered through a very new shopping and restaurant development in the same style as the station, but could not find the actual market. Someone did direct us, however, and we found the entrance.

When we entered the market, we readily realized why this place was little known.  The Shepherd’s Bush Market is no more than a narrow strip of walking space, about the length of a city block and no wider than an average road, jammed with shops on either side.  As we ventured into the market, inspecting the market’s goods and snapping photographs, we drew strange looks from shoppers there, who were invariably first generation immigrants, mostly from the Middle East.  Popular items in the market were the necessities, food and clothing accounting for over half of the market’s goods.  This suggests that, unlike other popular London market destinations, Shepherd’s Bush caters predominantly to the area’s immigrant community and their day to day shopping needs, rather than to tourists and day shoppers out for a bit of fun.  Of the food shops in the market, halal butchers were the most prevalent.  In immediate area surrounding Shepherd’s Bush Market, the same type of commerce thrived, with more halal butchers and restaurants and a few money exchange centers scattered about. Despite a heavy immigrant influence within the market, residential areas surrounding the area were largely native and seemed more affluent.

One aspect of the neighborhood that really struck us was the proximity of the local, immigrant-centered market with an enormous, modern shopping center. The Westfield Shopping Center, which opened in October 2008, is supposedly the largest shopping center in Europe. Inside we saw hundreds of people shopping at stores that ranged from Prada and Gucci to Nike and Adidas to H & M and other [slightly] more inexpensive stores. The mall was so big that there were several interactive map kiosks that would map out routes to certain stores for people. To read more about the mall, see Westfield’s website, http://uk.westfield.com/london/centre-information/about. Most of the shoppers here seemed to be white, probably native British. Both the shoppers and the elegant, silver architecture were a stark contrast to the colorful and cosmopolitan nature of the much smaller market. It seemed very strange that such a huge concentration of high-end stores was right in the middle of an area of so many immigrants. It did not match the streets around the market at all, but we noticed that there seemed to be more commercial development taking place on the other side of the mall.

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We travelled to the Market (located in the borough of Southwark) via the Tube’s northern line, which we exited at Kennington. From there, we proceeded to walk for about 10 minutes through residential neighborhoods  until we arrived at the Market, the main entrance of which was announced by a large lettered gate.

The Market, while not as large as many of the others London has to offer, was unique and vibrant. The majority of the goods were, somewhat unusually, clothing, shoes, accessories and textiles, as well as electronics, cosmetics, Cds & Dvds and other assorted items.

Many of the items were American-themed or American-style clothing or otherwise imported. The small amount of stalls with food were predominantly fruit and veg stands.

The vendors (and many of the customers- presumambly, the residents of the neighborhood) were typically either Jamaican/Afro-Caribbean, Middle Eastern or Eastern European, as well as a small number of Cockneys.

The vendors and customers engaged in an almost perpetual friendly sort of argument with each other: we overheard one conversation between an elderly Cockney vendor and his elderly female Cockney customer. After giving her his prices, he added “Tha’s cheap- betta than th’supermarket” and she replied snarkily “Tha’ ‘taint cheap- tha’s ‘spensive.” We didn’t experience much of the hassling that is typically found at marketplaces: we were pretty much left alone and didn’t hear

any creative vendor’s attempts to bring customers to their wares. However, on our way back were heard slightly more vocal advertisement and, on one memorable instance, a use of Cockney slang-insults to get attention: “1.50, hey, Lady wiff the mustache, over ‘ere!”

After we had covered the whole market (which stretched about 3 blocks) we explored the surrounding area which was mainly residential and consisted largely of low-income estate complexes (immediately recognizable through the tell-tale

sign of laundry lines across the balconies). Again, we mostly encountered people similar to the vendors of the market: largely immigrants or foreigners as well as lower class white Brits. While the neighborhood was relatively well maintained in terms of infrastructure, there were some physical signs of its standing as a lower class area: we found a telephone box with its windows smashed in and its inside completely covered in broken glass and cigarette stubs. In addition to this, many of the buildings were surrounded by barbed wire and a number of walls and fences were in a state of decrepitude. However, the area also contained some nice (but small) parks and at least two handsome churches. We were struck by several banners and posters put up by members of the community, protesting the borough council’s various planned developments to the area, some of which would encroach upon their parks.

Speaking of religion . . . in the market, we found about 3 Christian bookstands, alongside many self-help books by American preachers. We also noticed a large Muslim population with many women wearing headscarves and other traditional garb. We detected a strong sense of community among the ethnic/religious groups: there were many hairdressers and stores catering exclusively to the Afro-Caribbean women as well as Jamaican DVD/Music stands for the men. There were multiple Halal butchers and restaurants as well as fishmongers.

All in all, the East Street Market and surrounding Southwark clearly exemplify a vibrant, diverse and community-oriented place.