Try explaining some of the things you take for granted to an American. It's different when you're in France or Malaysia struggling with an unfamiliar language, but when you have the full breadth of the English language at your finger tips go ahead and explain some standard British things. Squash. Explain squash. The pleasure of a post-boozing marmite on toast. Bonfire night. That night when we burn effigies of a Catholic terrorist on bonfires. And don't forget the bit about kids begging for cash on the street for the week leading up to that night. And then watch the faces of your new American chum fall into confusion and ultimately concern as they realise that the UK is full of pagan ritual reminiscent of The Wicker Man.
It turns out that some of the British stereotypes aren't as archaic as I may once have thought. We DO have crazy old rituals that none of us really fully comprehend, but we all look forward to. We DO relish some pretty piss-poor culinary delights - watered-down fruit juice concentrate that doesn't taste anything like the original fruit? And there is no way that an American would consider a round of toast a suitable post-drinking 'meal'.
What this has meant, though, is that I can see my culture a little more clearly. I see the flaws and the madness and the sometime-crapness that we accept as the norm. It also means that I can embrace a different and sometimes better norm (mexican food is CLEARLY better at 3am than a fucking shady kebab). And it also means that I feel closer than ever to my fellow Brits. Despite class, culture and education we are all waaaaaay more similar than we may think. Even if you don't share the same Friday night routine as someone in Brixton or Harrogate, you may well both end the night with a round of Marmite on toast with a shit ton of butter. A British upbringing has the benefit of being fairly consitent. Things you can be sure of: the Queen, Marmite on toast, Guy Fawkes night. And squash. Lovely, lovely squash.
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