You know, when I and my family first arrived from Zimdesia in the dizzy days of the early eighties, and landed far afield, it eventually, after hundreds of days, dawned on me that I was exceedingly uncool in terms of my attire, my hairstyle and my manner of conducting myself. I thought it was because of the timewarp that Zimdesia more or less was in those days, after Zimbabwe had newly cracked itself out of the nut of Rhodesia.
Yet Oxford region takes the cake in terms of uncool (read: conservative) dress-codes and mannerisms. Albeit that the people, so far, have been extremely accommodating, I can't help looking at every-single-person-around-me and thinking, "what time capsule have you just crawled out of?"
Truly part of this is the uncoolness of attire. The other part of my reaction has a deeper history and meaning to it. Britishness as a style is historically to the rear of both Rhodesian and Australian cultural politics. It's what we leave behind in order to grow up ourselves. Consequently, somebody with an overtly pommie accent seems somehow larval, somehow laughable. I find myself subtly taking a distance from these people: "Surely, they can't be serious???!"
And, on a final note, since all good things must, eventually, come to an end, I leave you these few thoughts:
"Met a pommy
In the army
All thin and wan and pale
We offered him chibuku
He said
No thanks very much,
I'd rather have ale!"
1 comment:
Do not underestimate these people. You are in the land of Shakespeare. Appearances may deceive.
Over and out.
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