Disclaimer: LONG TEXT
Disclaimer 2: Advanced - C1 LEVEL
Some words & expressions that you might now know have been highlighted in bold. Check Cambridge Dictionary. The ones with an asterisk* indicate there is more than one meaning to it.
____________________________________________________________
What a week, folks! What a week.
The year has barely started and I feel my bottom being kicked already (by life).
As some of you may know, I left my job at a British university after 3 years working for them.
It was not an easy, nor a rash decision to be made. On the contrary, it took me a year to muster up some courage and take the plunge.
I'm now teaching Brazilian students English and working as a Freelance Translator, as I have always done in the past 10 years of my life.
Things are good despite the negative Chatter in my mind stating otherwise.
I have a feeling that this year will be more about emotional and spiritual knowledge and awareness than anything else.
Since starting therapy a few years ago, I have been finding it difficult to navigate the intercultural world I have been immersed in. If you know me a little bit or have read my previous texts about topics that broach into the touchy topic of 'Living in England x Living in Brasil', you are aware of my fondness and reservations for both countries and my constant bafflement with both the quintessential passive-aggressiveness of British people and the obliviousness and self-centredness of Brazilian people.
I've been disappointed in both worlds and I know how self-righteous this sounds.
Despite my moralising and rather ancient-like tone, I still get completely bamboozled when I'm faced with a gratuitous offence.
Last week I was at Uni (as a student, not as a professional), getting familiar with my new seat (new semester, new classroom, new seats) and by my side, there was this English woman, probably in her late 40s or something, blond, white, with tousled hair, always wearing her anorak and her Hertfordshire twang. She also 'wears' the typical English sarcasm you would expect from a middle-class English woman or man, who knows life is no bed of roses. There is no uptalk or received pronunciation poshness. Not much vocal fry. I always liked that about her. She is not unfamiliar to me, though. She is one of my classmates. I used to like her and even admire her in the first semester, as her remarks during the lectures are always on point and pertinent to the topic on hand.
I did, however, notice her slight inclination against foreigners imposing their culture on England, which is something I refrain from having an opinion on because I still haven't got one, I suppose. I do, however, try to put myself in English people's shoes.
Imagine having been born in a culture that makes you believe you are the cradle of Western civilisation. You are made to believe that your language is the most prestigious and important one in the whole world and that people (them) want to come to YOUR country because YOUR country is kind enough to accept them.
Then, THEY/THEM come to this country and start talking in their weird-sounded language, wearing veils, claiming benefits, overcrowding the health system, having accents, not knowing either about the culture or the country they happen to be living in... it's not exactly nice, is it?
Imagine having a gringo trying to lay down the law in Brazil, telling us how to do things? Would you like that? Saying 'Eu gostar de samba' (God knows barely any gringos can conjugate verbs. Susan, if you are reading this, you are an exception and I praise you so much for that!) and occupying positions of power within companies, building churches that are not in line with our culture and not understanding our language nuances.... Would you really like that? Think about it. Imagine a gringo saying that earning a 13th salary is outrageous. QUE CARA DE PAU, we would say! Esse gringo chegando aqui e já querendo sentar na janelinha, we would say. We would want this bloke's head on a spike, that's for sure.
I'm NOT saying by any means that their behaviour is right, you see...but I'm aware that this is not our... this is not my country. But am I really?
In a conversation with this English woman at Uni, she was talking about doing a PhD in Birmingham. I, with a Brazilian-wearing-my-heart-on-my-sleeve jocular tone, replied: 'Not even if they paid me I would live in Birmingham. It's such an ugly city'.
She then replied: 'Birmingham is not like that. My sister lives in a posh area in Birmingham'.
Because I have been to Birmingham several times, I have to say I really can't imagine this city having a posh side. All northerners make fun of Birmingham for being rough and run-down*.
I then replied: 'I can't imagine Birmingham having a posh side'. (laughs...)
She then plucked up all the sarcasm she could ever conjure and replied sniggering:
What about that shithole that you live in? Southend...
I was stunned.
I can't explain to you, unfortunately, the TONE that this sentence was uttered.
She was visibly and evidently intending to offend me and 'my city'.
I don't know if I was more shocked about the fact that she tried to insult me or the fact that comparing Southend to Birmingham sounds like the comparison a Brit that doesn't know much of their own country would do.
Southend is definitely NOT a posh town. There are loads of crackheads and drunkies in specific areas. Also, the Essex stereotype is alive and kicking (NOT GOING to dwell on that for fear of being slammed by the holy owners of this beautiful land called England - irony-intended). Southend does have charm, however. The seafront, the pier, the houses in Leigh (Leigh is an upscale area in Southend, where the houses don't cost less than 600K), and the view overlooking the Thames are things that you don't see in scruffy Birmingham.
Plus, Southend was not even a city until 2 years ago, just a town. Anyway, the comparison just seems nonsensical and silly.
Unfortunately, the way I reacted is not something I pride myself on. My pitfall lies in my lack of good rhetoric in times I'm mostly in need. I'm not like my mum: she can start a fight right off the bat in the most off-the-cuff way someone can expect. I have never ever been like that.... and I've always wondered why God hasn't passed me her genes in that regard.
Anyway, I replied:
- Southend is not shite...
- Oh, no? - She continued to snigger...
And then the lecturer walked into the room and our bickering abruptly ended.
That is the problem with me. I never expect someone will attack me verbally in a gratuitous fashion.
When I told my partner this, he said:
L - You have to remember: You will never ever be them. You are the other them, as in The Other. Do you understand?
Me - But I wasn't trying to offend her. She is not even from Birmingham - I replied.
L - But you are a foreigner commenting on a city, and therefore a country, to which you don't belong.
Me - But I was just being me. And my tone was not a sarcastic one.
L - You need to understand that if you want to be yourself here, you need to be ready to fight back at any time, OR you need to put on your poker face and don't interact with white English people who are very likely offended by the very* presence of you in this country.
I went silent...
L - I told you. Things changed after Brexit...
Oh, Brexit. This is another kettle fish I certainly do not hope to entertain you with here.
But this conversation struck me really hard.
My best friend in England is, well, English. He lives with me. He is one of the few people I trust with my eyes closed. He wouldn't have reacted the way.... but maybe he is a needle in a haystack.
When I had this conversation with an Italian friend of mine who is married to an English guy and has lived here for 15 years, she said something really similar to what my partner said, which also struck me:
- Things changed after Brexit, Ráiza. We have never been so divided.
(She calls me Háiza instead of Raíza which I find really funny).
She continued...
When I tried to buy the house I currently live in, I made the owner an offer that was above the current asked price at that time. My offer was then rejected. I raised the offer, as I really wanted this house but my offer was rejected twice, to my surprise. I decided to give up. Time went by and the owner couldn't sell the house. The real estate agent then called me and said that If I wanted it, I could still have it. I was flabbergasted.... I asked the real estate agent: 'Did he reject my offer because he didn't want to sell it to a foreigner?' The agent replied: 'Well... I'm afraid I don't know....'
From what my friend told me, she felt like the agent did know the answer to this question but didn't want to get involved.
It's interesting how both my partner and she mentioned Brexit. Every foreigner I've encountered and who has lived here for the past 15 years or so says the same thing: 'We were equal, but when Brexit happened, things took a different turn'.
They are not the first two people to bring this topic to the table.
My Italian friend also said:
You will always be them. I will always be them. I've been married to an English guy for 10 years. I speak the language as if it were my mother tongue because my life is 24 hours in English. I respect this country as if it were my own. But I will always and forever be them. And I'm afraid you will be too.
Silence again.
I've never expected to be English.
I'm a proud mixed-race Paulistana and Latina to the bone, so my surprise and even my frustration towards the subject do not come from this.
It actually stems from the fact that I truly respect this country. I study the language, I study the culture, and I know more about British history and politics than many of my British colleagues. The reason why I study so much about this culture is the same as why I learn Italian: to honour the space that has been given to me.
The space that I KNOW I do not belong to.
To my surprise, though, this is not enough and it might NEVER be enough for them and I think that's what is painful and striking to me.
I feel grateful for having been through this experience because it was a gentle (nervous laughter) reminder of where "my place should be". (Lugar de mulher é na cozinha, sort of thing...)
I'm constantly reminded that I do not belong to a Brazilian, or a British community any more.
I'm in-between.
This is my prerogative and I should learn how to live with it, however* difficult it might be.
__________________________________________
@2022 All rights reserved!