Dickinson College Humanities Program in Norwich

Upon my arrival in the UK, I of course knew of the popular social aspect of life as a Londonian that is the pub scene.  I didn’t know much to expect, but I was sure to see a different perspective than the local Fast Edward’s or Alibi’s atmosphere we have in Carlisle.  We walked into the local pub on our first night here in London and I thought one thing, “This place is dead”.  It was about 10:00 at night and there were 4 or 5 various groups in people (mostly standing) in corners of the pub.  We almost immediately caught wind of the way that pubs work.  Being that as we have discussed, the Brits are very much devoted to their own schedule and seem to keep calm and carry on to their next location with their head facing the ground, terrified of conversation with complete strangers.  I feel like the pub scene is essential to the London lifestyle because it provides an opportunity for them to relax and to chat it up with co-workers, friends, etc.  The essence of pubs here is not based on the same values that a bar has in the United States.  You walk into a bar at 10:00 at night in the states and there is music playing, drunk sorority girls shamelessly ordering pitchers of “sex on the beach” at the bar on their father’s credit cards, and a collective atmosphere of smoke-laden air and silly (and often loud) conversation.  The bar is a place where Americans go to get loose (and I mean VERY loose) after a day of classes, work, what have you.  The objective more than often is to get drunk and shoot the proverbial shit with your pals, maybe even meet a girl.  The goal of pubs seems to be severely different.

Pubs in the UK serve as a place for social interaction and debate rather than drunken, slurred conversation.  The Brits, while on their leisure time seem to be more interested in spending time with and conversing with their peers instead of doing things like watching TV, going to the movies, anything in which you are independent and are relying on some kind of technology to provide stimulation.  The great phrase of a “pub argument” supports this argument in the sense that one of the most prevalent characteristics about a pubgoer is their ability to argue and defend their topic to the death, whether it be politics, class, or their favorite footy team.  It would seem like Pubs are more about the people, you grab a pint, sit down for a half hour or so nursing that pint, and discuss whatever topic seems fitting with your fellow Pubmate.  Most pubs also close before midnight, so they cut you off far earlier than any bar in the states.  Whereas in the states it seems like the point of pubs is to get loose (in some cases VERY LOOSE), and have a few drinks after a long day at work or at class.  It would appear that in America, bars are more about the alcohol, whereas in the UK, Pubs are more about the people.

And then there was the “Pub” that myself and a few other students went to last week.  We walked in, enchanted by the sign with fantastic drink specials and the time of closing: 2:00 AM.  Hook, line, and sinker.  Walking in, we grabbed some drinks and sat down, music playing in the background, somewhat lively scene around the bar.  Then we saw them: Americans.  We could spot them from a mile away in a large group, drinking and laughing (loudly).  We introduced ourselves and we felt at home.  Soon the live DJ came on and the numbers and past stories of debauchery were exchanged merrily around our little 3 table American Embassy.  We felt at home.  But that’s the thing; we were able to recognize how American this bar was, it clearly was made to appeal to tourists and the youth of London.  What I took away was this; the dancing, yelling, mixed drink indulging are all great and are good American fun.  But if you really want to sit down, enjoy your pint, and hold a healthy, meaningful conversation with your mates, head to the pub.  Cheers.

I’ve been fascinated by the effects of alcohol ever since I read The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde in my freshman year, the same time I was introduced to college drinking social norms. By day students go to class and make self-aware, well thought out comments and criticisms of society, and by night drink and do all manner of scandalous things to gossip about in the morning (obviously not everyone, but a sizeable portion). We’ve been talk about the British social dis-ease, but I wonder if American social customs are really all that different.

Kate Fox notes that our expectations of alcohol’s effects are cultural rather than purely biological (261). England is known for its aggressive drunks and that expectation, and possibly a little national pride, is a self fulfilling prophecy. As the drunk insane asylum manager from everyone’s favorite show, Bedlam, says as he stumbles around the stage, “We’re English. It’s what we do” to which the audience responded with a proud cheer. For whatever reason, boisterous drunkness is a major source of identity for England, even if it’s also a symptom of the inability to socialize without a lubricant to put you in a liminal state. As a result, while Latin American countries associate alcohol with more peaceful states, England gets bars in Covent Square Garden that forbid the wearing of football colors to prevent bar fights.

I’ve tried to visit a few different types of pubs, and I’ve found so far that no matter the atmosphere, the clientele, or even the level of drunkenness, when it comes to alcohol the Brits are not the friendliest bunch (You see what I did there? Understatement. I’m so assimilated). I’ve managed to get over the occasional obvious refusals of service when pubs close at an oddly specific time if they see a group of five Americans coming toward them. The slightly more expensive pubs I’ve gone to have not been as bad. I usually just get a server who refuses to make any form of polite small talk or eye contact with me, unless he is joining in the group glare that I often receive from everyone in the room when I speak, stand in the wrong place, or exist. The younger, louder pubs were pretty nice because fewer people could hear my accent and it was too loud for me to hear angry throat clears. Unfortunately, the minute I got outside, a few drunk men took it upon themselves to fix that by yelling obscenities and telling me to go back to America (In their defense, I think I might have offended them when I was praising the benefits of Razor Scooters as they walked past. Hot button issue).

During the day, besides the occasional angry glare when I use my 6 inch voice instead of my 4 inch voice in the library, people have been generally friendly, which leads me to believe that Fox is right about the British extremes in behavior.  They’re excessively mild and polite (Jekyll) until they drink a potion that makes them grow fur on their hands and have a strong desire to beat me to death with a cane.

My second shift at Bishopbridge on Friday, the fifth of February, was a bit more hands on than the first.  In this shift, I was meant to shadow a senior staff member named Mark.  I got a very accurate look into what working at the hostel is like, and how fantastic the staff has to be at multitasking.  Because two members were evicted from the shelter (one for violence towards other residents, and I never found out the reason for the other), two beds were vacant.  Since space at Bishopbridge is a bit limited and much sought after, two new people were already lined up and in the process of settling in.

The procedures and protocol surrounding new residents were very interesting to observe.  I sat in on an interview for one new person as Mark asked him a variety of questions about his background, including his past accommodations, reasons for leaving, past work, mental health history, drug/alcohol history, and many others.  This man presented himself in a very positive way.  Thus, curious, I asked if people are normally honest in these interviews or whether they present themselves well to obtain a bed and then gradually share their addictions or other issues.  I was told that generally, people are truthful although they have had people who lied and created major problems in the end.

Many of the questions involved the man’s financial history.  He said that yes, he was good at handling his finances and yes, he was able to budget his paychecks.  I was told that this is a somewhat normal response, so I wondered how people became homeless if they were indeed so good at handling money.  Supposedly, some of the people who end up at Bishopbridge are evicted for reasons not pertaining to finances: not keeping a home clean, excess of noise, breaking up with a significant other, losing a job, etc.  This rid me of another stereotype I once held, that all homeless people had no money in part because they didn’t know how to handle finances.

That said, if the problem is finances, the City Council gives the homeless a stipend each month in the area of two hundred and sixty pounds.  The rent at Bishopbridge is a bit more than that, so most people end up paying approximately twenty five pounds out of pocket each week to stay (and in the Residential side, twenty of this is given back for groceries).  However, some people don’t receive as much aid from the Council or have some leftover funds to work with, so residents may pay the rent in full or may only pay a few pounds per week.  Finances are handled on a case by case basis.  At times, though, the team that goes out into the streets of Norwich finds rough sleepers who are fleeing from another country or are illegally staying in England.  When this is the case, Bishopbridge really can’t do anything to help these people because they are unable to receive any benefits from the government and, therefore, can’t pay any rent.  At best, they can offer a cup of coffee or tea and keep checking on them to make sure they’re doing alright.

After the interview, I saw the room of one of the evicted men in the process of being cleaned.  To put it lightly, it was gross.  The floor was covered in all kinds of debris and there was sticky tack all over the walls.  Because of the smoke detectors, obviously residents can’t use candles..this resident got creative and left the candle on top of the heater, so the heater was completely filled with wax.  There were needles in the refrigerator, and the bathroom was a mess.  I helped carry bags of trash down, but I definitely would not want to be the one with the responsibility of cleaning the rooms after the fact.  We also moved some of his belongings into storage, because Bishopbrige saves a person’s items for three weeks after they leave until they can find new accommodations.

At this shift, I learned a lot about the course of moving into the shelter and how a person’s mental/physical health is assessed.  I also became aware of how bad the living conditions can get when a person isn’t used to caring for himself or herself.  I left feeling a bit dissatisfied with the way the finances work, although granted, I still don’t know enough about it to make much of a judgment.

Hours logged: 4

Total hours: 9

Even though I haven’t yet tried it, it cracks me up that I, at age nineteen, can walk into a pub and order a drink. Additionally, I can take that drink in its glass outside, where I’m likely to smash, lose, or run away with a perfectly good glass, and at places like festivals and street vendors, I can order beer or cider and carry it around in an open container!

As a non-drinker, I was a bit worried about how I would handle pub culture, as well as how my peers, both American and British, would participate in it. I have to say, I’ve been more than pleasantly surprised. I think my newfound comfort with pub culture is both a function of the more laid-back attitude towards drinking in Britain, as well as appreciating the fact that most people I regularly hang out with in the group aren’t looking to get trashed. Additionally, however, I think I also appreciate the pubs themselves. Unlike George Orwell, I don’t think I’ve found my perfect pub, nor do I think I ever will, since my perfect pub would probably only serve soda, all meals would be slathered in cheese and decidedly unhealthy, the bathrooms would be Cloroxed on the hour, and the contents of my iPod would serve as the juke box. Despite not liking drinking or rowdy people, the permeating smell of beer-soaked carpet, or much of the music played at various volumes depending on the venue, I quite like the few pubs I’ve frequented so far.

My first experience in a British pub was on my first full day here. My friend and I popped into the Lord Stanley in Camden for two reasons: One, this is the pub my favorite band got their start in, and two, I needed somewhere to be sick. Despite not being in the best of moods (as well as being distracted by the fact that Coldplay used to perform right there on that piano…I am aware I’m a nerd), I was quite interested by the fact that the other patrons didn’t seem to think much of knocking a few beers back at lunchtime and going back to work a bit loud, as well as the fact that you could order a decent selection of full meals in a place primarily for drinks.

Since that day, I’ve mostly stuck to the Marlborough Arms and the Court with the other members of Humanities 309, as well as a few stops at the Fitzroy. I think we started coming to the Arms mostly because it’s the closest pub to the Arran House. It smells decidedly of stale beer, but the food is good, the bartenders put up with our Americanness, and the music is quiet enough so I can still hear it most of the time, but I don’t need to shout over it, either. Like many others, I enjoy the Arms when I just want a meal and a talk, though we’ve been permitted to get a bit loud in the corner when we so choose. The interior seems to be, as Orwell put it, “the solid, comfortable ugliness of the nineteenth century,” though perhaps the Arms isn’t as authentic as many of the other more historic pubs we’ve been in this month. The Court, by contrast, caters to a younger crowd by having louder music and pool tables, as well as a more modern-looking interior and a designer cocktails menu. In America, I probably wouldn’t go near a place like the Court simply because of its loudness and the fact that people spill out onto the pavement and carry the rowdiness outside, but I’ve actually had some of my favorite nights there, which is as much a credit to the place and the carefree yet still somewhat reserved behavior of the British drunks I’ve seen as it is to the people on the trip I’ve partied there with.

In Watching the English, Kate Fox spends one of her longest chapters discussing British pub culture and customs, which was one of my favorites so far. Because Grace did the finer points such justice in her post, and because I already packed said book deep inside my suitcase, I will simply state that I have yet to see some of the behaviors she outlines. I did once get yelled at for not minding the “invisible queue,” and I don’t think most of us have yet mastered the act of ordering a round for the group and then working out who owes what later (not to mention offering the bartender a drink as tip), but I don’t think I’ve seen any “regulars” that the rules don’t apply to, nor have I heard any ritual arguments and camaraderie between regulars and the bartenders. Perhaps this is because the pubs we frequent are in the center of London and move probably thousands of different people through their doors each year. But in Norwich, I think the pubs might have a slightly different flavor, and I hope to do some of my own anthropological observing in order to understand most of what Fox has written.

I told myself before I came that I was open to the idea of becoming a social drinker while I was here, since it’s part of the culture, but I didn’t expect to want to. Not only have actually enjoyed the sips of friends’ drinks I’ve tried (surprising, since my number-one reason for not drinking has been dislike of taste), but I find the attitude towards drinking so laid-back that now since I’m not pressured to drink or ostracized for not drinking (thank you, group), I’m willing to give it a go. Now I see myself ordering ciders or Pimm’s and lemonades sometime in the near future, but I think because I have little to no experiences with alcohol, I have to be careful how much even one drink would affect me. Either way, I’ve embraced what I’ve seen of the pub culture so far with open arms, surprising myself, and I’ve enjoyed going out to the pubs almost every night for either a meal and a chat or a bit rowdier of a time more than I ever could have expected.