Language Barriers 2

The friend who disparaged my pancakes (as I did hers) has pointed out that I failed to mention my third understanding of the word pronounced "marquee" and sometimes spelled "marquis": a nobleman of the finest tradition, dedicated to helping oppressed peoples throw off the shackles of foreign dictatorship; often bearing the name "de Lafayette."

And I misspelled "caricature."

Language Barriers

I find that the linguistic troubles that beset me in England normally have to do with food.  Some of these I have come to take in stride, but they are nevertheless non-trivial. For my most recent (re-)discoveries:

• Coffee here is either "black," or "white."  White, as you may have guessed, is with milk.  Fine, that makes some sense.  What doesn't make sense is when you order an americano, defined as espresso with water, and they ask you if you want it white.  Huh?  I mean, I suppose you could want some milk in it, but then that's why they have little jugs of milk at the coffee shop.  And if I say I want it white, do you only add milk, and no water?  Isn't that a latte without the froth?  Or do you add water and then the milk?  For that matter, why are you ever asking if you want coffee black or white at a take-away coffee shop with jugs of milk by the napkins?  Shouldn't the customer just add the milk themselves?  Why bother having the jugs if you're going to do it?  I find this strange.  Especially with americanos.
• Pancakes are not pan-cakes here.  They are neither crepes (thin, large, light, delicate) or American pancakes (fat, fluffy, yummy) but rather some sad caricature of food: thin, chewy, dense, and rubbery.  When confronted with the logic that cakes are fluffy, and therefore so pancakes should be, an English friend said that pancakes shouldn't double as coasters; I countered that they shouldn't double as placemats.  Keep in mind that this is not unique to a single chef, but rather has been my experience with many different pancake... sculptors?
• Something that occurs during the period of time is said to be "at" the weekend.  How very strange... to me, "at" the weekend implies that it would be on the cusp (e.g. Friday night) and wouldn't make much sense at that.  "On" the weekend is likewise roundly rejected here.  At least we can agree on "over," and "during."
• "Fort" and "fought" have the same pronunciation.  This created some issues when being read a poem.  My Canadian housemate and I couldn't understand what was being said!  "Fort shy?  That does not make sense."  This is not so much a problem as it is interesting, because I had previously identified words that sound the same in American English but are distinguished in Received Pronunciation, as the standard "Queen's English" is known.
• A marquee bar is a bar in a tent.  While I understand that marquee is a type of tent, the first image that popped into mind was of a bar under a neon sign saying "bar!"  Apparently that usage isn't known here...

A Savage Nation

There are many things you may "know" about England; some of them are correct: scones and clotted cream are great, people speak with fantastic accents, it rains a lot, London is a beautiful city, the Queen is old; some of them are not correct: people are classier (than the US), most people speak with fantastic accents, bathrooms are sensibly warm, the tube is great.

What you (and I) did not know, but is demonstrably true, is that Brits (or perhaps just Englanders, or, barring that, just Londoners) will fight for a bargain.  Literally.  Last weekend American Apparel - the rather offensively-run American retailer - had a rummage sale in a slightly shabby part of London known as Brick Lane.  2000 people attended and, as you wouldn't expect, since it's just clothing, that there was a riot, which injured 10 police officers.  Of course.  Why wouldn't there be?  If you're viewing this on email, click here to see the main post, and the video: http://thirdcultureworld.blogspot.com/

You can’t be serious… driving edition

So, my driving license arrived this week and I finally have a permanent form of identification with my address on it, which is great for signing up for things like libraries (each borough has its own here), bank accounts, and just about any other form of subscription or membership.  Unfortunately, it’s a bit less useful on the driving side of things.
The rules about driving in the UK state that I can drive on my New York license for a year without having to get a UK license.  Within that year you can either exchange your existing license for a UK license, or get a provisional license which has restrictions, and then pass the written and road tests.  For those first twelve months the restrictions on your provisional license would not apply because your foreign license is still considered valid here.  So far, all well and good: you have a choice between sacrificing your foreign license or basically starting from scratch.  Clearly the better option is the former (since I could always just request a new US license by mail), but there is one snag: the UK licensing authority does not exchange US licenses.  However, they do recognize Hong Kong licenses, but I didn’t want to give mine up.  What to do?
In the end, I decided to get a provisional license, but upon receiving it I discovered that not only did I have to pay the one-time £50 licensing fee, but I also had to pay fees to take both tests.  Finding this to be really not worth the hassle, and thinking “when will I ever need it?” I decided to exchange my Hong Kong license.  Alas, after retrieving the form from the post office (I could not get it online) I discovered that in the exchange section after asking where your license is from, it asks where you took your test, if not in that country.  Grr, they got me!  I called them up, and sure enough the loophole didn’t work.  They explained that they didn’t have an agreement with the US authorities, and despite my argument that in fact I still had a Hong Kong license, they wouldn’t budge.  Mind you, I think that their argument is more about quid pro quo (none of the states I looked at will exchange anything but another US or Canadian license) than about actual legal requirements, since Hong Kong accepted my US license unilaterally.
So now I have a UK driving theory test scheduled for the 2nd of November.  I took an online practice one and failed (I wasn’t sure about some signs, road markings, and about whether train crossings here flash red or solid amber as a first warning – I guessed the latter because the former is the US way), though most of the questions were quite easy.  For example (and without much hyperbole): some elderly people are crossing the street when the light turns green, do you:

1. drive toward them and honk loudly
2. yell at them
3. run over them
4. wait patiently while they cross, understanding that elderly people take longer to do things

Presumably once I check out the road signs and markings I should be okay, though I am a little more concerned about the practical test – I need to get used to driving a manual transmission with my left hand.  Fortunately, I have £25 of zipcar credit that expires this month, so I’ll have to take a car to Ikea to practice (and get some artwork/photo frames for my room).
I’ve just arrived in Nottingham (of Robin Hood fame) for a recruiting event.  Besides wanting to meet people and enjoying it, I decided that I might as well get to see new cities and towns in England for free so I signed up to be a recruiter here (I helped out in New York too).  Should be fun!

My night at the Prom(s)

In America, the word "prom" evokes images of happy teenagers in suits and dresses (which are, depending on your generation, grand, beautiful,  slinky, or scanty) attending an evening ball toward the end of their junior or senior years of high school, to reminisce and generally have a good time.

In London, the word "prom," especially in the summer, will take on a very different meaning: a single classical concert from a summer series of over 70 held over eight weeks, mostly at the Royal Albert Hall.  The BBC Proms were founded in 1895, and are apparently known best for their final night (as opposed to late night), which is used by audience members to show great amounts of Britishness, a word I wish we Americans had the equivalent of.

Anyway, I attended the proms on the second to last day (Friday the 11th), for the second to last evening, and last late night performances.  I arrived at 6:00 sharp behind the Royal Albert Hall, to get into the "day prommers" line, which is for tickets in the "arena," and discovered that I would have to wait in the very back of the line, where I was not guaranteed entry (my friend from Cambridge, Riddhi, was much further up with some friends of his).  Fortunately, after much waiting, I was able to reach the door, and buy my ticket, at which point I was ushered downstairs to into the depths of the theater to the orchestra section, where I found my companions and proceeded to emerge onto the floor of the hall, which had been quite deliberately stripped of almost any form of seating except for (as far as I could see) a few chairs around the edge occupied by sleeping, obese men and prim ladies who scowled at the rest of us as we appeared to approach their chairs, as if we might somehow displace them by mere fact of our presence.

I wish I could say that I was surprised, but I had unfortunately been warned that the arena tickets (for only £5.00) at the Proms are standing room only.  For the first concert of the evening, we arrived just before it started, so we were crammed at the back of the arena, but the view and sound were still spectacular (being such a small space).  The problem is that standing through two hours of the Vienna Philharmonic, while fantastic sounding, is extremely painful and exhausting, especially when you haven't eaten yet.  With a little bit of luck and help, we managed to find food during the intermission, which was perfect because the second half was a fantastic performance of Don Quixote.

For the second prom, #75, we arrived in the line just as they were letting people in.  But this time, there were two lines - one for people who had just seen the last show, and one for everyone else.  We hopped on the first one just as they were letting the second line follow, and when we arrived in the arena we found that only the very front part was filled, and then only with people sitting on the floor.  Revealed to us was a fountain in the center of the arena, which was actually running for the pre-show arrivals.  The second show (and the reason I was convinced to attend), was the Silk Road Ensemble, with Yo-Yo Ma.  Fantastic.  Absolutely fantastic.  It was a smaller ensemble (it varied from 6 - 18 people depending on the song) and they played fusion Asian and European arrangements, but the best parts were that they improvised, and that they really enjoyed what they were doing.  Whenever someone wasn't playing, they were grinning madly (it's hard to grin and play a cello or violin it seems), and for those who could (drummers and strummers) while they were playing too.  To top it all off, it was the best instrumental concert I have heard in person (although enjoyment is obviously influenced by what you see too).  Unfortunately I couldn't stay standing the whole time, but I managed it for about half of it (on and off).

Anyway, a fantastic evening, and I have to highly recommend attending a concert by the Silk Road Ensemble if you have a chance, and also the proms if you're here in the summer and can stand (or buy a seat ahead of time).

Great banking... if you can get your money in

The british banking system has a lot of advantages over the American one:

• You can transfer money instantly and for free to any individual (in the US - unless you are at the same bank - this is never instant and always involves a paper check or third-party service like paypal)
• The credit and debit cards all use a pin instead of a signature (and have a smart chip in them, the value of which I am uncertain), which makes fraud more difficult (since you must know the pin) but, I suppose, also harder to detect (since if someone learned your pin and stole your card you cannot do handwriting recognition).
• Almost all ATMs are free, so you do not need to look for your bank or have a fee reimbursing debit card (though it also means they don't have fee reimbursing debit cards).

However, there are a few distinct disadvantages:

• The credit card rewards are awful compared to those in the states.  For example, if you are on an airline miles or membership rewards program you will get 1 point per pound instead of the exact same point per $.  The top cash back card has 1.5% if you spend a load of money each year, while it is relatively simple to find a 1.5% or even 2% cashback credit card in the US, some of which don't even charge foreign transaction fees.
• There are no checking accounts that waive all foreign exchange fees (though there are really only a few in the states that I know of).

and, most importantly:

It's really hard to deposit money.

One of my housemates called it the only banking system in the world where you walk into the bank with cash and emerge from the bank with cash.

The problem is that the only instant or easy way to deposit money is at the counter.  In the US, all banks that I've seen offer ATM deposits at the machine.  It can range from filling in a slip at the counter and putting your checks and cash in an envelope to needing no slip to needing no envelope at all, and having the checks scanned and cash instantly counted and credited.  Often you will get a credit of $100 or $200 for the envelope deposits and checks too.  When I visited my a branch of my bank in the UK (one of the largest retail banks) there was a massive line of people waiting for the counter, 10 "cash machines," which were withdrawal only, a single, unfunctioning deposit machine, and a drop box.  To add to the indignity of having only a single, unfuncitoning deposit machine, if it had been functioning I would have had to fill in a deposit slip and there was no instant credit, meaning that the drop box was identical in function.  So, since I had cash, I had to wait in a line to get it into the account (I wanted to sign up for a mobile plan, and so needed some funds in my bank account).

I wouldn't be so surprised if this had been a small regional bank, but it's one of the largest banks in the world!  The two largest banks in New York City, Chase and Bank of America both have machines that scan your checks, automatically recognize the dollar value written on them, and give you an instant credit for up to $100 or $200.  Their machines will also count bills and deposit them instantly to your account.

On my way back to the office I checked out every other bank branch I passed (which was about 7 different banks).  Two of the banks had the same style of deposit machine as mine, but one of them (which I am tempted to join) had what I really wanted: three instant cash counting and depositing machines (although this is still the only branch of that bank I have seen them at). 

I had always thought that the US banking system was way behind because in Hong Kong we had no-slip deposit machines and (a few) cash counting machines back in the late 90s, but I realize now that perhaps Hong Kong was just ahead of the time in that particular area (I still think the check scanning machines in the states are the best thing).  Not suprisingly, it was HSBC which had the cash counting machines here...

Hangers: An Ikea Story

When I first arrived here last week, I discovered that I badly needed two things:

1. A very large glass for water at work, because the water machines self-dispense 2 oz cups, unless you have a bottle to select the "500ml bottle fill" option.
2. Clothes hangers.

While I was fairly certain I could deal with number one by going to any department store, number two was surprisingly tricky.  My first thought was about where I would go in the US, in order of increasing difficulty for New Yorkers: Bed, Bath and Beyond, Target, Ikea, and Wal-Mart.  Unfortunately, a bit of sleuthing and questioning determined that in fact there was nothing like Bed Bath, Target, or Wal-Mart in London.  Ikea, meanwhile, was rather far away.  Various grocery (Waitrose), department (Marks & Spencer) and catalog (Argos) stores were suggested and examined, but they were either ludicrously expensive (the first two) or out of stock (the latter).  Last week, I resigned myself that I would have to go to Ikea on Friday.

I sorted it all out - it was easy to get to Ikea from work, since it's on the same subway line as my office.  Getting home was a bit tricker because I would have a lot of things, and didn't want to backtrack.  A bit of quick research determined that I could take a bus to either the London Overground, a commuter railroad that stops by my house, or further along to a later station on the tube's Central Line, which also stops where I live.

Getting to Ikea was easy, and I had dinner at the restaurant (priced higher than I thought), followed by some easy shopping.  Except that they were out of the 49p/5 plastic hangers.  After all that!  Oh well, I got the wooden ones instead. 

Arms laden with bags full of hangers, bathroom organizers, storage boxes and tableware, I left Ikea to get to my bus.  However, as I was confused about precisely which way to go (I did not yet have my new phone, which I had been hoping would negate the need for a map book), I stopped at the first bus stop, and determined my location.  I also discovered that although there was not a direct bus from that stop to the Central Line, there was one to the Overground, which would save me a five minute walk.  Besides, I was interested to see the Overground, as I wasn't quite sure how to classify it.  So, when the bus arrived, I hope on.

Big mistake.

The bus immediately turned down an alleyway.  "Fine," I thought, "it's going a back route."  And indeed it did.  It went around and along and down every little dead-end alleyway in the neighborhood.  Finally, it emerged onto the main road, 50 yards down from where we had started, and turned back from whence we had come.  It not only was going the back way, but it was going the long way too.  It looped all the way around.  London has long loopy roads, so consider an arc shaped like a bridge - I wanted to go down the left side of the semicircle and then southwest - the bus went off the top of the semicircle, came back, then went down the right side, then meandered it's way all the way to the station.  The entire ride, which would have gotten me past the overground station and to the tube station in about 15 minutes took more than an hour.

Finally, I got to the overground, swiped in, and lugged all of my stuff to the proper platform (the furthest away) before hearing an announcement that there were no more trains going to my destination (south, on a particular branch).  Well, whatever.  I hopped on the first train going south on another branch, and got off the first stop. 

Fortunately, the London transport system is very good at posting bus maps everywhere, so I was able to find a bus stop a long block away that would take me home.  Turns out that it was a very good bus stop (the bus home came every 5-10 minutes, even at that time of night). 

Being a Friday night there were a few people in a compromised state sitting on the bench, comparing buses (they were making no sense).  As the bus pulled up, a lady said to me, rolling her eyes, "the things you hear on a Friday night."  I responded, "yes, indeed."  "Ugh, an American..."****

Anyway, it took me a couple of hours to get home, and although I was exhausted, I figure that the only way to really learn a city is to get lost in it, as long as you can find your way home.

****Ok, so she didn't say that, but she didn't respond, and it would have been much funnier if she had.

Oxford is small town

So, I went to Oxford this past weekend (hence the dearth of posts) to visit my lovely friend Katie from high school, and it wasn't at all what I expected.  I knew that Oxford was fundamentally different from American universities, as it is really a cooperative of its constituent colleges, rather than a single institution that has left some independence to its educational units.  Rather fittingly, I think that the analogy of United States (American University) vs European Union (Oxford) is a rather accurate one.

Anyway, despite knowing about the educational structure, I was not prepared for the physical reality.  Somehow I still expected there to be a defined campus, with open quads and grand vistas, but instead (while exceedingly pretty) Oxford is really just a medium sized gothic town.  The colleges are simply (beautiful) off-limits buildings with courtyards and gardens, and have no structural relationship to each other, or any sense of connectedness.  Of course, that should be expected from one of the oldest educational institutions in the world, but it still disappointed me, as if they had missed an opportunity at some point in the past to truly combine them and eradicate any non-residential distinction (to end up with a system like Harvard or Yale, where your college is just where you live and socialize).  What was actually galling to me though is that your undergraduate experience depends so much on which college you attend.  Some colleges are ridiculously wealthy and have heavy subsidies (I am told) and nothing but the best facilities and tutors (who do most of your teaching).  Others... don't.  If you think about them as separate institutions, it's acceptable (and just a group of small schools who share labs and exam rooms), but we have a tendency to group them all together as "Oxford," though your experience and education can vary quite widely.

Really though, it was more the disconnect from my expectations that jarred me, as I'm sure the experience and education are all par excellance.  I really had a lovely time, and got to have a few real English experiences.  On Saturday night after I arrived I was taken for bangers and mash at The Chequers, which (I am again told) is quite famous.  I had lamb and apricot sausage, which was delicious.  I will probably go again next time I'm up there (or risk some London bangers and mash one day).  I have been convinced to try some other English specialties, like (deep fried) fish and chips, which has the potential be good, but has thus far only been offered to me at the company cafeteria.

After dinner, which was attended by Katie and her very nice friend who is moving to London (and will thus probably see some more), we went and had a long chat and ice cream at G&D's, which was pretty good.  I say pretty good because it seems like British ice cream, no matter how exotic the flavor, shies away from any good chunky ingredients - it's all rich and creamy, with the occasional (soft) chocolate chip.

On Sunday, I got a tour of Oxford - there are a bunch of main shopping streets throughout the town, with beautiful cafes, restaurants, clothing stores and book shops.  I got to see Katie's college (Green Templeton) and the Radcliffe Observatory around which it was built, which had a good view and a really cool observation floor.  (More photos at bottom)

After the tour we went punting in the river with a picnic and another friend.  The Oxford river would best be described as a creek without any of the excitement (but all of the beautiful shores).  It varies from 15 to 30 feet wide and 5 to 10 feet deep, and has an indeterminate flow of water.  Punting, meanwhile, is the least logical method of propelling a boat in open water, and was thus decided upon for this waterway, where it can be demonstrated proudly, like a Segway in a shopping mall.  It involves standing on the front of the boat (technically you always stand on the "back" but Oxford and Cambridge have opposite definitions, and I agree with Cambridge) of the boat with a 15 foot long pole, which you push against the "riverbed" to propel yourself forward.  You then let it drag behind you to use as a rudder, pull it forward, and go again.  Anyway, punting was fun, and I got the hang of it (despite always needing to correct my direction) pretty quickly.  While one rotating person punted, the others enjoyed a traditional picnic of English cocktail sausages, carrots, and... hummus. (More photos at bottom)

After punting we met back up again with the friend from Saturday night, who served us tea along with some scones.  Katie and I brought along a trifle we had leftover from the picnic, which I think would have been better without the jello.  Then I headed back to London, where, fortunately, the first bus stop is right outside my house. 

Radcliffe Observatory:

Punting:

Supermarkets, or Of Square Bread and Warm Eggs

Today I wandered across the street from the office for my first relaxed grocery shopping experience in the United Kingdom.  Though I have been to the supermarket multiple times since arriving, I have always been brutally hungry and thus in a rush to purchase any food whatsoever, and have had no chance to actually browse the aisles.  This time however, I was getting lunch, and I was not yet at a critical hunger point.  My goal was simple: peanut butter and lemon curd sandwich.  First stop - bread.  I figured there would be no difficulty here, but I was wrong, and in a most ghastly way. 

All the bread was square. 

I think you know what I mean.  Like Wonder Bread.  Ick.  I set about looking for a rounded-top, high quality loaf, and saw the cheap store brand (85p).  Nice.  Now a look at the square bread... 1.45.  Huh?  I think that in America we've come to associate the squareness of bread with cheapness (or, you could say, Wonderfulness), and so the less square, the more expensive.  Hence why the square bread at the grocery is $1.00, but the Arnold's and Pepperidge Farms loafs are $3.99 or $4.99.  Well, so what?  I'm attracted to the cheap bread.  This is good.  85p it is.

I set off around the corner to find the lemon curd (I didn't want to steal my roommates for heretical peanut butter and lemon curd sandwiches), and took a quick glance on my left.  There they were... eggs.  And not just normal eggs... warm eggs.  Little packets of delicious salmonella, sitting right there on the shelf.  As Ashley so duly noted in her comments to my first England post, I'm not so sure I will be eating many eggs, or at least raw ones (so much for cookie dough!).

Anyway, I finally reached the lemon curd (and peanut butter).  To my dismay, there were only two brands of lemon curd, and neither one was Wilkins & Sons, my favored british brand.  Strangely, there were only 3 varities of Wilkins & Sons jams (5 at another store I went to later) compared to about 12 in my New York City grocery store.  Very bizarre.  No matter, the English know how to make the stuff, so I went for another one.

As for peanut butter... ugh.  There were only two brands.  One had no sugar.  If I wanted dry nut paste I would eat linseed, so no thanks.  The second one was a bit dodgy (new word!), but I had no choice.  Upon examination at my desk, it was found to be dry, and a bit grainy (e.g. not so creamy as one would hope).  I will now be on a quest for Skippy!

Interestingly (to me) I didn't need to sign up for a club card, I could just grab a temporary one and sign up later (it gets both discounts and points for later use).

Fresh Lemon Curd!

My housemate made fresh lemon curd! FANTASTIC! Now if only there were some peanut butter around...

Contact Info

After the last post I figured I should give out my contact information in a private, yet sensible way. Here's how you can get in touch with me (replacing JFKENNEDY with my equivalent first initial + middle initial + surname):

• Call or text (412)JFKENNEDY (using the letters associated with each keypad number) - I will receive an email transcript and can listen online. I will call you back with my skypephone (different phone, same service).
• Skype me at JFKENNEDY.  If you skype me and I am on my computer (not skypephone), or you are on skype and I skype you from my computer, then we can video chat!
• Email me at JFKENNEDY@gmail.com (and I will call or email you back)
• Gchat me at JFKENNEDY@gmail.com
• Email me and get my mobile number and call it at ridiculous rates.

There you go!

I have credit??

Today I went to get a mobile phone. I settled on the HTC Magic, because it had the features I really wanted (google maps, a touch screen, email, and a good web browser) for the lowest price (free with plan). I went to the shop by the office, and got approved for the credit (!!!!!). The lady thought it might have something to do with the fact that I already had a bank account (yessss) and that I work for Barclays. Anyway, the plan they offered me in the store was the same price as online ($30), but without free internet ($5) and with fewer texts! So I left. Sadly I couldn't sign up online because my previous address was out of the country, so I called them up. On the phone, they told me I had already been approved because of the credit check done in store (note to people who have credit, but not enough history online - you can get pre-approved in store!), and gave me 200 more minutes!! My original plan was going to have just 100 minutes, and then I would upgrade later, but now I have all the minutes I need! It will arrive on Friday.

Speaking of phones, if you would like to call me, you can skype me at any time.  A cell phone company here has a pay as you go phone plan with unlimited skype to skype calls and skype calls to foreign phone lines (at skype rates) so I can make calls to the US for a mere $2.99 a month (they expect you to receive calls, which are paid for by the caller in this country, or to make domestic calls. They thought wrong!).   For how to get in contact with me see the next post.

Welcome to England, please reclaim your baggage

As I got off of the plane this morning, exhausted because I chose to partake of the airplane meal service instead of sleep, I noticed a sign on the way to immigration: "Baggage Reclaim," it announced, roundly slapping my American sensibilities and telling me one thing - this was a foreign land. In America, you only need to claim it once!

In all seriousness, even on my first day in England, there were plenty of things to notice. Sadly, I'm tired, so I can't elaborate more than to bullet them out. Also, I cannot find the list I emailed home. I think that the work computer believes I’m a spam address now. Great.

• Almost everything physical is small. There are exceptions of course, such as the monstrous mega-mall near my house, but in general it holds. The rooms are small; the cars are small; the people are small; the portions are small; the houses are small; and of course
• the tube is small. The tube (London's Subway) is really small. The fares are not. The trains are like the smallest trains on the New York City subway (the IRT, or numbered lines) made 2 feet narrower, and the highest point on the inside made to be 6'6" precisely. And I do mean highest point, because from that highest, center point, the roof slants downward at least a foot and a half to the doors, a mere 6" away. Okay, I exaggerate, but it feels like 6". My first thought was that I finally understood the image of underground railways as sardine cans. I found myself physically shuddering when the train arrived after my interchange. Not only that, but the doors guillotine closed after a few friendly warnings (which everyone heeds), and they have the indecency to make you step up about 8" into the trains. People will tell you "but they're so clean and efficient!" This is entirely beside the point - the reason they are so clean is that otherwise nobody would ever get on them for fear of catching meningitis. Efficiency is added incentive for the few unconvinced stragglers. If you have any doubts, then consider for a moment the spectacle of the platform announcer. In other subway systems people actually try to get onto trains, so announcers are unnecessary other than to inform. In London they need a patron to coax you into them, and to soothe any fears, like children on a field trip to the dentist. “Please step all the way into the train… yes, get on the train, yes you really should, go on, step on in.” You could say that they’re just reminding people to be polite, but then why do they do it when the trains have nobody even standing in them?
• People say "cheers" at really inopportune times. I sold someone some dollars at the current exchange rate to get sterling without paying a bank markup, and was bode farewell with "cheers." How do you respond??? "You're welcome?" But they didn't thank you... how about "thanks?" No... that's not quite right, because then you're thanking them for saying "cheers," which heaven forbid might elicit another one. And not only are "thank you"s replaced, but so are other farewells. I'm not sure I'll get the hang of this.
• The elevators have light-bars inside of them to warn you when they are closing (red) or tell you it’s safe to enter (green). They go down both sides of the inside of the door, so they are invisible when the door is closed. Most strangely, everyone obeys them – I only saw one other person stop a closing lift door. I see now the true purpose of the subway guillotines.
• The grocery stores are shockingly inefficient. American (e.g. big, bad, and carbon intensive) grocery stores have open pit and closed wall freezers for frozen goods, closed refrigerators for some milk and dairy, and then rectangular open fridges for some other goods. I always thought those were bad. My experience here (which I am told is replicated elsewhere) is that the they don’t even bother trying – the refrigerators just release cool air onto shelves of produce and milk, which mingles with passing (warming) customers, and the other air in the store. There is no attempt at insulation. The freezers, fortunately, were more sensible (wall-freezers over pit-freezers), but I was still horrified.[Having moved back to America... I was wrong]
• London black cabs are icky. I say this based entirely on their external appearance, but really, they’re very ugly, so I must be right.