28 April 1992
Dear
Gary,
It
is about time that I send you another letter, keeping you up to date on the
progress of my sabbatical year. I will
not repeat our travel itinerary, which I recently sent to Candy, on the theory
that (I hope) my letters to Candy eventually make their way around the
office.
Robert,
Mara and Jeffrey catch the bus at 7:40 each weekday. School starts at about 9. On Saturday there is no bus and I take Robert
into Cambridge for his half day of school (remember Herb's stories of working
half days on Saturdays in the early years?).
I try, if I can, to doodle around Cambridge until half past twelve, when
Robert gets out. Sometimes I do a little
reading or editing in the car: it is really quite a nice car, almost a portable
room; stooped over, you can walk between the front and the back; sitting at the
table in the back is quite comfortable.
As
I was picking up my newspaper last Saturday, I noticed that the shopkeeper did
not even mention the Saturday magazine lying on the counter (I picked mine up
anyway), and I thought of all the little things that one must learn living in a
different place, things like Saturday and Sunday magazines which are sometimes
on the counter and sometimes in the magazine rack and which are included in the
price of the newspaper. Sometimes the
news agents put the magazines in the paper and sometimes they don't. (We buy our newspapers from the newsagent;
there are paper boys who deliver, but most people simply go in and pick up
their papers.)
That
got me thinking: what are the other little things that we have learned over the
year; that is, besides the common things such as lorry means truck and petrol
means gas? Cathy and I sat around our
little barbecue Saturday evening and tried to think of some of them.
At
the grocery store, the shopper must bag for him or herself; the smart shopper
brings his or her bags back to the store and reuses them. Though the sales clerk will often ask if you
would like one, sometimes you must remember to ask for a "carrier
bag." Remember also to have your
fruits and vegetables weighed and priced in the produce department, for there
is no scale at the checkout stand. One
must queue for this, as well as for the deli or bakery, and, in the latter
cases, remember to take a number.
There
has been a big controversy here over Sunday shopping. Traditionally stores are closed on Sundays,
but over the last "run up" to Christmas, many of the stores opened on
Sunday in an attempt to get more business.
This was technically a violation of the law, but somebody has a case
before the EEC courts alleging
that the Sunday trading law in Britain is unlawful, and the government claimed
its hands were tied and refused to prosecute.
The Church of England argued that Sunday trading should not be
encouraged, but was more appalled by the blatant disregard of the law by big
companies. Certain companies took the
higher ground and refused to open, among them our market. The issue remains unresolved, but we are now
well accustomed to making sure that we have sufficient groceries on Saturday to
see us through Sunday and Monday morning, and we know that the grocery stores
do run out of stock late Saturday (produce, milk, OJ, fresh meat, bread), so
one is well advised to shop early, with the crowds. At first, the thought of nothing open was
enough to cause a bit of a panic. I
don't think we seriously thought we might run out of something, it was just the
lack of that comforting thought we subconsciously have at home, that things are
always available.
Other
little things: knowing which are the good local foods, etc, such as, Ribena (black
currant juice) and Hob Nob cookies. A
"digestive" is a graham cracker, a "biscuit" is a cookie, a
"sweet" or a "pudding" is dessert; at the movies one orders
salt or sweet popcorn. What are the good
television (not TV) shows? Our friends
told us everyone watches "Lovejoy", which we now watch. Lovejoy is a fictional antiques expert who
solves mysteries. The filming is in and
around our area. It is still hard to
figure out when things are on. Sometimes
a show, such as "Lovejoy," will be on for several weeks, but then it
will be off. Many shows are what we
would call a mini series, airing once a week for several weeks. There was a very good show on Churchill, but
there are dramas and mysteries as well.
During Christmas, everything changes, as the television stations (there
are four: BBC 1 and 2, ITV [called
Anglia in our area] and Channel 4) all compete for ratings by showing all the
good movies, first runs and classics. We
have successfully passed the year without video recorder, Nintendo and cable,
though most people we know have VCRs and there are video rental stores.
To
continue: a vacation is a "holiday"; and one uses the
"motorway" not the freeway.
The water here is very hard, and one is best advised to buy a
"Brita" water filter, otherwise the limescale deposits in the
electric kettle (a very good appliance) and the water itself become very unappealing. The kids' quiz game informs us that "fall"
is the American word for autumn. Not
having been a kid here, I doubt I will ever learn some of the slang.
Communities
here seem to better integrate all aspects of life: kids, working people,
mentally and physically handicapped, householders, elderly and dead
(churchyards). At home we mostly see
only the physically fit, every other group seems to be segregated to its own
area.
There
are many good ideas over here, not the least of which is the British idea of
bagging your own groceries and reusing your old bags. In Italy, you must pay for your carrier
bags. I love the roundabouts; they keep
the traffic moving without a light but they take restraint. They work in France, but they would never
work in Italy. They might be a good idea
in the US, get us away from the mindless order of traffic signals, though I
think we respond well to the law and order of traffic lights. Drivers here, by the way, are very good,
despite the tailgating and high speeds on pretty country roads. One reason is that people keep their minds on
what they're doing: one rarely sees a driver with a go cup of coffee or eating
at the wheel. This is probably because
most cars have manual transmissions and both hands are required to drive. This has the salutary effect of keeping the driver's
attention engaged, which is important on country roads here. Even the "A" roads are seldom
straight. An interesting aspect of this
is the motorway gas station and cafe, accessible only off of the motorway. In Italy, one goes in and stands at the bar,
drinking a cappuccino or, perhaps, having a drink from the well stocked bar. Can you imagine a roadside freeway bar in the
US?
It
took me awhile to figure out the beer.
Lager (Heineken, Carlsburg) has now become more popular than ale or bitter
(not bitters), but there is plenty of bitter available. I am surprised at how good it is; it is
darker than lager, has a slightly stronger taste and is also less
carbonated. (The reason ice cubes are
optional in drinks here and beer cool, not ice cold, is that one doesn't need
the extra cold in a temperate, but cool climate.) Most beer comes in pint or half liter cans,
though sometimes in 333 ml. cans, shorter than out 12 oz. cans. There are endless promotions: 12% free, two
extra cans free, etc. There is also a
mind numbing number of different kinds of bitter. Britain, Belgium (700 kinds of beer) and
Germany put the US to shame by the number of different kinds of beer. By the way, you can get Corona here and now
Miller draft (from the US); Budweiser and Lite are already sold, brewed in
England, but they don't seem to taste as good as home.
As
Cathy and I have often remarked to each other, one of the most enjoyable things
about living here for an extended period of time is to be able to have different
impressions of the same place. We have
been here long enough and visited London and Cambridge enough times that we
notice things that the short period visitor, on his or her guard, thrown off
balance a little, somewhat awed by the different sights and sounds and anxious
not to get lost, might miss. We can now
choose a favorite time of year or view among the many. We walk down the same street for the
umpteenth time and notice things we have not noticed before, because we can
skip the manifest differences. Spring is
arrived, and soon the branches will be completely filled with leaves and we
will no longer be able to see through the branches to the fields or homes
behind. Which is more enjoyable? It is hard to say.
As
we approach departure time, we think about the benefits of home. We have loved every minute here, though Cathy
(the Las Vegas native), began to tire of the cold weather by the end of
March. Since we have returned from our
holiday in Italy (April 18), the weather has warmed by 5 or 7 degrees (mostly
50's to 40's, not 40's to 30's), enough for us to turn down the heaters. We have also had some lovely days
(60's). I think we have seen the last of
the cold, thick fog which sometimes settled, particularly to the north of
Cambridge, where the land is very flat and the rivers run between mounds reminding
me of the levies on the Mississippi.
Today it is raining; perhaps car washes and full swimming pools will not
be banned, after all.
The
brilliant (as the boys would say) thing that I find hard not to go crazy about,
is that we live 45 miles from one of the major cities of the world, yet we live
in the country. It is all very expensive
here, but if you have some money to spend, as we did the last year, there are
many things to take advantage of: in
London, the theater, the music concerts, a black tie Sunday Times Literary
Banquet. Cambridge is cheaper and has
theater and music as well. Museums are
free with only suggested donations.
(There are some bargains, and a roundtrip ticket and all day's subway [Tube]
pass in London from here is £10.80 after 10 am [about $19]; McDonald's is about
the same in sterling as dollars, so is about 1.75 times more expensive. (The truth of the matter, however, is that
anything times the six of us is expensive, even with children's discounts!) On May 8th, we will attend the Folio debate:
P. D. James and John Mortimer will debate the supremacy of detective fiction
over serious fiction; it is a limited seating, the tickets were £80 and I think
we were able to buy them by having had our names picked out of a hat, though
maybe everyone who sent in got tickets.
Living in Las Vegas is very far from this kind of life, yet in some ways
it is similar: much of the world beats its way to our doors, though obviously
we have different attractions. But it is
hard to imagine even San Francisco or New York offering the same kind of
attractions that London has. It is
really, after all, a small country. The
weekend of March 20th I attended a residence class on Coleridge in the Lake
District (300 miles northwest). Beautiful
country, reminding me just a little of Idaho (I suppose it was the green, but
treeless mountains.), though with stone farmhouses and walls, Victorian
villages.
I
wish I could stay here and I will work harder at writing over the next few
months, but I fear the gig is up! (As I
have also realized from the beginning, much of the attraction of this year has
been not where I am, but that I have had the time.) How much will we have changed and how much
will we settle back into the old routine?
One thing we will definitely be thankful for is the roominess of 2512
Callita Court, after seeing so many tiny homes over here.
I
had meant to write more about the EEC. As the reality of the closer union
approaches, enthusiasm seems to be waning.
Britain received a lot of bad press for its reluctance to endorse
European unity to its fullest, but now all we seem to read about is cold feet
at adopting the December Maastricht agreements.
Germany doesn't want to give up the DM for a common currency. German foreign policy decisions forcing early
EC recognition of Croatia, Serbia, Bosnia against wishes of other EC countries
(and US) have proved how difficult unified, majority vote foreign policy can be. Italy wants to get rid of corruption and has
no coalition to run its government. France is confused and now clearly not the
shining star of Europe in the light of a unified Germany. Strikes and recession in Germany bring its
attention home. Everyone is angry at
German high interest rates. Strong movements
to the right exist in France and Germany and Italy, whether it is just to get
the attention of the government or genuine attachment to "me"
politics at the expense of "us" is hard to say. Britain remains unflappable, though a big
argument is brewing over German demands that Frankfurt not London be the EC
economic/banking capital. As respected
as he is in foreign policy, George Bush appears totally out of touch with the
rest of the world as a lone hold out to the world environment conference in the
summer in Brazil (though that is losing some of its respectability as its
proximity brings to the forefront the petty squabbles and disorganization).
Give
my love to Jodi, David and Karen, and my regards to Herb, Mel, Joe, and, as Mad Magazine used to say, the usual gang
of idiots.
All
my best,
P.S. Looks like a tight race in the NL West!
