I just have to!

Only because I don't think I have seen the words Medieval and Hardcore Party Mix in the same sentence ever! Youtube knows me too well haha!

This is fucking awsome actually.

4 winters and a century later

Today is a cold day. The coldest in years probably because I usually don't need tights under my jeans but hey! there they are! Just like in the old days. It's my 4th winter in England this year and to sort of randomly celebrate that I've decided to make a list of 5 surprising facts I've learned so far! 

Now you might wonder if they are really "facts"? Well yes. And no. I'm in England so whatever I say is fact is fact, ok! 

1. Food

This was the first thing that surprised me. The food is really good! And cheap! Never mind the alcohol in the shops, the real difference is the cheap food, and it's also exactly the way I like it. I never used to cook a lot of food before, not willingly anyway, but here it's so easy! I have gone from hating food in all forms to gaining weight, thanks England!

*Warning. If you already like food be prepared, their food is fatty as fuck.

*Warning 2. If picky, don't eat at other peoples houses, their food might be good but they cook it badly!

                                   2. Politeness (=Lies)

I actually love their grey area mentality about the truth here sometimes! Now, this was not surprising in one way, the Brits are world renowned for their politeness..and I really like it in the way where people talk to me in the queue and say hello when we barely know each other but.. I was surprised how this mutates as you get to know people. Politeness is very often a thinly veiled lie. And that's fine in random conversations at the busstop or when almost bumping into someone in the street..It's even a good thing when you just need to be nice and tell a white lie to make someone feel good! But the English lie a lot! Try to actually get something done or have an honest conversation and it becomes like a metaphorical lego pit. You don't want people lying to you about important paperwork! You don't want your friends to hurrying for "sorry" and "a cup of tea" when actually..there are important things that can't be solved by mountains of politeness..

 

3. School

I can't escape this one. By far the biggest cause of stress in my English life. It's bad. That pretty much sums it up! It's like a bank where you put your kids for 6 hours a day and it takes them 3 years to learn to write. It's inefficient, it's badly structured and I bet the teachers are run like machines in the money factory. But most of all I was surprised, not at how bad it was (England is also world renowned for that) but at how ignorant people are about it, for example other ways it could be done and is done around the world, and how unwilling they are to admit it! I'd send my child to a shit school if I had to, but don't polish the turd..! for fucks sake, don't embarrass your selves. If you want to be backwards and driven by housepoints like in Harry Potter, stand up and say so! You have lots of things that compensate for it so just leave the turd or fix it. Either way makes you look less like a stubborn 2 year old.

4. The Empire

Firstly I want to say that I have watched a lot of British historical documentaries. Probably all of them. Ruth Goodman is the historical documentary-love of my life, closely followed by Lucy Worlsly and Kate Williams! So yes, I knew of the empire. What I didn't know was that it's still here. I knew the moment I moved here that I was now in the empire. It's unmistakeable. It lives on in the old fashioned ways they do things and in the boilers and charities and afternoon teas. The empire is still alive in society and in peoples minds. But it's so ingrained and introvert that they don't see it, not really. 

I really have a love/hate relationship with this because even if it does make life less equal and less efficient...it also radicalises people. And I did always want to go back in time. 

*Warning. It can come with some facepalming statements,such as "They knew we were British so they just swapped over to English".

5. Wellies

Lastly, if you as a supposed Scandinavian or other nationality from a country where damp is not part of your morning routine (haha, you will get that later!) are thinking of moving to Britain...get some waterproof clothes. Wellies specifically. There is nothing so cold as walking in wet shoes as the drizzle seeps into your clothes. I think that, and the differens in bacteria, is the reason so many of us get so very ill at first here.

I'd add that the damp ruins the houses as well so look out for a good one but...don't kid your selves, you're immigrants in the empire now, buckle up!

#Not all Gerbybor

Now, unless you're one of those Brits that genuinely believe that nothing important happends outside this country, you have probably heard of the wave of "racist-feminists" occurring after the mass sexual assaults this last New Years Eve. A racist-feminist is a person (usually male) that chose to believe that only immigrants commit sexual assaults to feel more justified in being racist. They don't care for equality, they just use the word feminism to further their own cause because it makes them sound more relateable. (Again, in other countries, being a feminist is a relateable thing). 

Ok, so, in response to that people have flooded facebook with stories of their own experiences, most of them way before immigration was as much of a thing as it is now to highlight that sexism is not a race problem, it's a gender problem. 

Ex: If it was a race problem there would be Syrian women cornering men in town as well. And we wouldn't have any rape stories pre-dating 2010ish.

Now we all know that the world is more sexist in some places then others. That was never a question, of course it is. But you can't integrate people and expect them to act better then us, can you? Point is, only when we share our stories can we start to understand what actually happens. I know many of the people that has shared their stories..that was actually more shocking than that I also knew the people they talked about. Why? you should know why..

When I was 13 years old I started highschool just like any other Swedish child. For reasons that now seem silly I had ended up in a different class than my friends and I wasn't hugely popular in my new class. But I was fine with it, I was quite an introvert teen.

I have always had the fortune/misfortune to be relatively pretty. I say that in a mixed way because while it is undoubtedly a perk generally, it also makes people make certain assumptions on ones availability. And in my new class there was a boy who fancied me. Of course there was. And he did what "boys do". Pinching, throwing things, squeezing me, pulling my hair, poking me with rulers, shouting things..stalking me at gym lessons so I didn't dare to change..the list goes on. Well, everyone else thought this was adorable. "He is just in love with you". Even the popular girls in the class insinuated that if I let him go on I might get to join them at lunch and such important teenage things.. But I remember the uneasy feeling.. He would sneak up and sit behind me all the time..pushing his table against me. His friends would all help him out by trapping me so I could never get away. I asked my teacher to move me to a different desk so I could focus in class (it was history ffs!). He did but it didn't help, they followed me everywhere. 

So one day, at a history lesson, I stood up and pushed the table as hard as I could back at him, looked him in the eyes and said: " I would never fancy anyone as fat and creepy as you so get you fucking hands off me."

Silence.

They sent me to the school psychologist and I got to change class. For at least the rest of that year I kept my headphones on while walking trough the library and in the corridors leading to their part of school but I could still hear them shouting " stuck up whore", "ugly bitch", " I/ he was just joking, don't make such a big deal"  and other generic insults..feel the hateful looks. He got away with no consequences. They all did. As they always do.

The reason I think no one tells these stories is because no one believes them.. Even now that I write this I know that everyone else that were there has blocked this out and I alone have to remember it. And I can imagine it would be even worse if it happened alone, I had 30 people witnessing it and I'm still not believed! 

I chose this story, not because I'm always such a bad ass who stands up for my self damning the consequences, I chose this story because all the others have told stories where they didn't and wish they did..but I know it makes no difference. The moment that person decides to take you he takes your choice away as well. The only difference between this experience and many of my other ones is that this time I don't think it was my fault.

 Not anymore anyway..

I dedicate this post to Victor and his loyal friends.

I'm glad your lives turned out so uneventful.