TRADITIONAL LDN



I had a writer’s block. I didn’t know what to write about. It must’ve been the flu I caught on the eve of my trip to London town that left me somewhat paralysed to say the least. I found myself in bed for the first few days on my arrival here and only this week began to go out and see old friends, much to the realization that I have less than two weeks left in my hometown.

The flight it self I must talk about. Last time I flew British Airways I was adamant that I wouldn’t fly with the carrier again. That was Christmas time and on booking my Easter break I found my self, buying a BA ticket again, I must’ve been crazy, but it was cheap flight and I thought that maybe this time round things would be better. I reminded myself to fly Virgin Atlantic next time; their in-flight service is of better quality, their timing is impeccable; their planes have more legroom and are far more comfortable.
When I flew New York to London back in December, the flight was appalling; it was delayed for two hours, during take off it was delayed another hour, we had to fly above London airspace several times due to congestion on the landing runway. To add to the wait, we were taxied for a further half-hour until a gate became available and we were able to step out of the plane. Once at the baggage reclaim hall there were more delays as the conveyer belt was malfunctioning and there had been strikes buy baggage handlers over pay, so in all, that entire trip lasted 10 hours compared to the normal 7-hour flight.

This time round I thought things would be different, or so I thought. The plane headed to the runway on time, but once there, there was a queue of about ten other planes wanting to take off. Why does everyone want to leave New York so badly?
So the wait took an hour until the actual take-off. To further add to the delay we had to fly over London yet again due to a queue of planes wanting to land, it seems that everyone wants to come to London? And as expected in the baggage hall, it took a further 20 minutes for the conveyer belt to start and I was allowed pick up my suitcases and make my way into my hometown. I’ll defiantly fly Virgin next time.

Hometown. Its weird I’ve spent the last seven months making New York City my new home that as soon as I arrive back in London from being away for so long, everything feels strangely unfamiliar.
London has become my home away from home. I arrived to a new house my family purchased while I have been in New York venturing a new career. I found myself without “my room” and feel more of a guest living out of my suitcase clothes.
Most of “my stuff” which happens to be stored up in the ‘loft’ is lot to my mother’s standards. OK is about ten boxes full of books from University and various other stuff, such as DVDs and VHS Tapes, most of which I’ve given away to charity. I question the keep of old memorabilia that reminds me of the past and have decided to throw away cards and little things one keeps when you are in a relationship. Why hold on to those things when you know you wont go back there? The rest will be there, and remain in boxes until I decided to live back in London. I still haven’t decided on that yet. Maybe I’ll be like Madonna and those international stars and live between London and New York. Hold on, I think I’m doing that anyway.

A lot changes when one is away. The roads change, new buildings are going up, new bank notes are being introduced, new artists are on the charts, friends are dating someone new, babies grow a considerable amount, even the weather is warmer than usual. I wonder what will change in New York during these three weeks that I am away from it?

I do feel slightly nostalgic that I am missing it all; seeing my niece grow up, being away from close friends, being away from family. But something tells me that all the sacrifices of giving ‘things’ up will pay in the end. I have even handed over my car, a Fiat Punto, which was my 21st birthday present from my mother, away to my older brother. In order to make way for the new, we must part away from the old, that’s my motto. And when will I be in receipt of the new I ask myself. I don’t know. I seem to be in a long waiting list for new things. I’m being awfully patient.

The Easter came and went, much unlike it has in the past. There seems to be gradually less Easter eggs this year, in fact none at all! Why was this? We didn’t even go to church this year. Why are we becoming less concerned with keeping up with tradition and more on keeping up fashion trends and celebrity gossip?

Easter Sunday my family and I attended a gathering of Colombians for what seem to be a ‘lunch do’. I thought it would be just that, Sunday Lunch.
I found myself in Neasden, North London overlooking the brand new Wembley Stadium. Something ironic came to my head. Is this what is like for Colombian’s living in Flushing, Queens overlooking the Shea Stadium?
I don’t know, I seem to be out of touch with the Colombian community as a whole that I only experience it at home, but then again, my family isn’t very Colombian either. I guess our culture is a mixture between some Colombian and British traditions.
When I experience the company of full Colombians, I look at them and question why they are like so, because certainly I am not like them. Colombians tend to be loud mouth, enjoy their loud salsa music and dance, enjoy their women, and eat traditional Colombian food and be very much Latin.
Actually the food on the menu on Sunday was far from Colombian either. It was middle-eastern cuisine. A huge lamb had been placed in the middle of the table; salsa music was playing loud as it could go, where had the out cultural traditions gone?

We seem to be living in a new age, where we can integrate ourselves in a new country and bring our old customs with us and also embrace those of our new “home”.
I think that’s what I’m doing in New York too. Embracing the City for what it its, and at the same time reminding myself of where I’m from. But that’s it; I don’t know where I’m from. Am I just British or am I just Colombian? I feel like I am both. I feel like I hold cultural traditions from both, but sometimes it’s easier to say to people “I’m from London” rather than “I’m Colombian”.

I remember when I was younger and going to school for the first time, people would ask me where I was from and when I said ‘Colombia’, they’d instantly make remarks to ‘Pablo Escobar, a famous drug baron and trafficker of ‘cocaine’.
I felt ashamed of being associated with everything that was bad from that country because other kids use to make fun of me for being Colombian and ask me if I had any coke among other taunts.
It seems Colombia has a taken a turn over the last few years; kidnappings and murders have gone down considerably that the Ministry for Tourism have launched a $5million campaign to promote tourism again. Check out this link:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JyFXVslYYzI

Still I wouldn’t change London for Colombia. This is where I’ve done most of my growing up and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else (Apart from New York that is), not that I still feel ashamed of being Colombian, far from it now.
I love walking through the streets of both London and New York and find their similarities, and differences. They are both great cosmopolitan cities offering cultural diversion and work prosperity. It seems I’ve gone full circle; from South America to Great Britain and back to North America. I’m having the time of my life living between both LDN and NYC, like Madonna and the rest of those international celebrities.

Next Blog: April 16th (Or there abouts)