Many of us have already talked ad nauseam about the rules governing Tube behaviour. No eye contact. All extremities and personal belongings to yourself. Never strike up a conversation with your fellow passengers (unless it is to moan about a delay or some noisome activity going on in a station).
However, we have also observed many exceptions to these rules, mostly in the form of young couples and Public Displays of Affection in varied locations and to varying degrees of intensity.
Beyond this, I have noticed that the LGBT community- particularly lesbian couples and cross-dressers/transgendered individuals- is extremely present here in London. As a group, they seem much more open and accepted here in London than some of the other cities I have been in. What the cause is, I don’t know- perhaps it has to do with the laws (I believe gay marriage is legal in England)? As someone who has and has had LGBT friends, I heartily applaud the apparent acceptance the community enjoys here.
[From one of the LGBT London support sites: http://www.pinknews.co.uk/images/kulgbt.jpg]
Anyway, as I was making my way back to the Arran House one day, I had an encounter with a lesbian couple that broke almost all the English rules of behaviour (not THAT kind of encounter . . . don’t get too excited, gentlemen)
I was transferring from one line to another and noticed two women in front of me holding hands and I remember thinking to myself “Awww, how sweet. I wonder if they’re sisters? Or . . . are they a couple?” While the TV show The L Word may be set in Los Angeles, I have not seen many gay couples – particularly lesbians- who feel comfortable enough to openly express affection in public.
We ended up in the same Tube car and the only open seat happened to be next to one of them. The other, a heavier woman, sat opposite and, within seconds of the doors closing had started fighting with the teenage girl sitting next to her (who, interestingly, looked and sounded to be foreign, not White-British). I quickly assessed the situation: both women were black, but the heavier one (who clearly was the femme in the relationship) was strongly taking on the Angry Black Woman persona while her partner (who was very butch) didn’t interfere except to say, “Do you have a problem with my girlfriend?” The butch lesbian was the one sitting next to me, so I turned to her girlfriend sitting across from me and asked if she wanted to switch seats with me so they could sit together. She seemed very surprised and pleased that I had offered but declined- I think she wanted to make the person sitting next to her uncomfortable for a little while longer (she said as much herself) and then leaned over and kissed her girlfriend next to me. As she continued arguing with her neighbour and generally drawing attention to herself, her girlfriend sitting next to me struck up a conversation, asking where I was from. As it turns out, she had visited the States once and stayed not 10 minutes from where I grew up! When the train got to their stop, both women took hands (the heavier one glaring daggers at her antagonist- frankly, I couldn’t decipher what the cause of contention was but it sounded like the issue had arisen from the woman’s size – maybe taking up too much seat room? – her race or her obvious sexual orientation) wished me a pleasant stay in England and departed.
After they got off the Tube, the girl who had been fighting with the heavier woman glanced at me suspiciously and then looked away. I’m still not certain what my crime was, that I was talking to people on the Tube at all, that those people were lesbians, or that they were black. Perhaps a combination of all three.
Since that incident, I have seen several more obviously-lesbian couples and some obviously-cross dressing or transgendered men walking around on the streets. From what I have observed and experienced, it seems to me that the gay community here is much more open, much more free about expressing affection and- as I experienced on the Tube- much more willing to break with the established rules of English social behaviour. And yet, the irony is there were still the restraints of other behavioural roles – the gay persona as well as the racial persona- coming into play. Perhaps the moral is that all people – English, American, black, white, gay, straight, whatever – are always adhering to some expected social code. We can reject some and embrace others but one is always present and guiding our public behaviour.
As a dedicated people watcher, I found this whole experience and the attention it made me pay to individual couples just fascinating. I tried very hard in my relation of it to use as netural and widely accepted terms as possible, hoping to cause no offense to anyone on any account.
Today I decided I would run my own Kate Fox type experiment while shopping on Oxford Street. Knowing how obsessed the British are reputed to be about their queuing, I intentionally stood out of place. I was the only person waiting in line for the cash register, so instead of standing in what was obviously the entrance to the queue path, I stood awkwardly to the side and began my own line. I even made sure to angle myself so that I was not directly facing the register, attempting to further the confusion. The results were quite amusing. One man it seemed had decided he was better of mumbling to himself and walking in circles rather than try to get behind me. Another shopper kept walking back and forth between where he knew the real queue should start and where I was standing. However I noticed that no one actually asked me if I was on the line. In the States, I would simply ask the person in front of me if they were waiting to be helped, they would give me an answer, and that would be the end of it. (Image taken from )
I definitely understand what Fox was talking about now, when she said that the British will harrumph and complain, but won’t actually take any action to solve their problem. A few simple words to me would have easily resolved the issue and we all would have felt a lot less awkward.
When I picture my summer at home, I see myself with Starbucks in hand, sitting on the dirt and grass of Prospect Park in Brooklyn. I’m with friends, or my brother, or even alone. My ipod speakers are turned up next to me so I can hear over the music that other small groups around me play from various speakers. I smell hot dogs and other food being barbequed in the shade of the trees where the grass has been worn away. Every once in a while I look up from my book, or my friends, to dodge a rouge Frisbee, soccer ball, or running child. For the most part it’s a sort of low city hum surrounding me as I watch the various families eating and talking, the young women sun tanning, or the men playing various sports.
slideshow of photos from parks
But here in London, I’ve found my park experiences to be quite different. My first experience at a London park was with a friend outside of the Dickinson program. We were on a mission to find Harrods so that I could see the famous English department store. We did in fact find it. It was a window into the English equivalent of 5th Avenue, New York. I was surrounded by upscale, architecturally beautiful, storefronts and benches. This illustrated the main difference between the parks at home and the two parks I’ve visited in London: usage. Although both the major parks that I am familiar with in New York, Central Park and Prospect Park, are both on the edges of upscale neighborhoods, they also border more middle class neighborhoods as well. At home, the people who use the parks are primarily people who don’t have their own outdoor spaces. They use the park for family barbeques and get-togethers as well as the more traditional uses of sports activities, exercise, or even sun tanning.
While Hyde Park bordered a very upper class (which the English call middle class) neighborhood, just as most parks do, it seemed much more up kept. There we lots of small gardens, fountains, and monuments that were still in very good condition. Also, there were no people lying out on the grass—that I could see, at Hyde park. The people that were there, although they seemed to be of different ethnicities, all seemed to be of the same class. And not only was there no music playing from loud speakers, or people barbequing, there was very little shouting or noise at all. Now I must admit that Hyde Park is very very large, and I only explored one corner of it. But even in that corner what struck me the most was the quite. No music, loud children playing or laughing, or even the sound of large groups gathered. The people there either had outdoor space of their own for these uses or didn’t want to barbeque or ever do these outdoor things that I see at home. And this was not just limited to Hyde Park.
When we met for a class on Mrs. Dalloway in Regent’s Park, I was left with similar feelings. This park was also filled with fountains, monuments, and cleanliness. In fact, I got the feeling that our class of 27 students were the only 27 people talking in the whole park. Now don’t get me wrong, in both these parks people were present sitting on benches reading, walking their dogs, strolling holding hands, but never talking loudly, shouting, and absolutely not playing music. And although both Prospect Park and Central Park are also very large, I never seem to be able to find a completely private spot. Yet at Regent’s Park and Hyde Park there were a few times where no one besides our group was visible.
As I walked through these various parks, and made these comparisions in my mind, I began to ask myself why? Why were the parks I knew marked by noise, children, laughter, and the sense that people LIVED there? Why were these London parks most notably quiet with the beauty of something that is untouched and tiddy?
So far in my time here I have begun to notice that we Americans are often the loudest people around when we walk down the street, ride the tube, or sit in a restaurant. Perhaps this contributes to the idea of quiet London parks. It seems as though it is part of English culture, British nature, to be reserved and contained. No one screams or runs wild through the open grass. Instead, people read their books and seem to be sitting in nature, rather than monopolizing it with noise and music. Of course I’ll always feel more comfortable in a loud park where patches of grass have been sat on so much that it has worn away to dirt. A park where the tunnels smell of urine because of the homeless people who find shelter in them. A park where families who may not be able to afford a back yard can give their children a place to run free. But at the same time, there is something to be said of a place where people can simply exist with nature—not to say that London parks are an untamed forest, they are clearly man-made—unnoticed because they are so quiet there.
[From one of the LGBT London support sites: http://www.pinknews.co.uk/images/kulgbt.jpg]
