Diwali in Trafalgar Square

Diwali arrived in London last Sunday – a week too early according to Susen’s cousin in Kolkata where the celebrations take place on 3 November.  But, as Susen said, we can be flexible.  There are many paths and many ways to celebrate.

We decided to experience the celebrations in Trafalgar Square via lunch at Masala Zone in Covent Garden.  Masala Zone was busy – lots of Indian families there as well, which was good to see. As a restaurant, it is growing on me.  I wasn’t sure at first, or at least just got an ‘OK’ from me – but it fills the existing gap for a mid-market Indian contemporary restaurant offering reliable quality.  Their lunchtime thali is good value for money - £10 for the grand thali, if choosing either a vegetable or chicken main curry.  I did get a little over-confident with my chilli experiments, ordering the masala chilli paneer – only to find the sauce burnt my mouth and I just couldn’t eat it.  To their credit, the manager swapped it for a chicken korma dish without additional charge or fuss.

Trafalgar Square was packed.  As we approached the crowd, a lone bagpiper across the road competed for attention against the Bollywood beat on stage.  It was great to see so many people on an overcast autumn afternoon, but it did remind me why outdoor festivals, particularly urban ones in London can be hard work.  The set up was conventional, with a central stage and screen for the live performances, with various food and other stalls around the edges.  But so many people means lots of queuing and trying to squeeze past people to view the performance.  I am probably just getting old.

It was great to see such a mix of people though and a feeling that it wasn’t just an Indian Hindu event, but something in which everyone could join in.  White women were walking round dressed in saris which almost seemed normal until a woman with Doc Marten boots and jeans on underneath her sari did make me wonder whether I had missed some new fusion fashion statement.  We then discovered the ‘Saree Experience’ stand where women were queuing to be dressed in a saree (over their clothes) which explained the new fashion.  One Indian street food stall was staffed entirely by white English people – which Susen seemed to think was strange, though the ethnic mix had not struck me as anything unusual at all.

Bastions of the British Empire watched over proceedings from their immortalised positions in the square.  I have no idea what Sir Charles James Napier (General of the British Empire and the British Army’s Commander in Chief in India – notable for conquering the Sindh province [now in Pakistan]) and Sir Henry Havelock (British General who oversaw the recapture of Cawnpore during the mutiny of 1857) would have made of the festivities, but I like to think they would be tapping their feet along to the Bollywood beat while the statue of Lord Ganesh looked back at them.  They might even have been smiling at the quirkiness of the big blue cockerel currently installed on the fourth plinth.

It would have been good to have stayed for Anoushka Shankar’s expected performance later on, and I also imagined how good thousands of lights and candles might have looked against the autumn darkness.  But it was time to leave.

We crossed the road, past Uganda House – the country who had unceremoniously expelled all Asians in Uganda in 1972, making the UK the beneficiary of so many skills, talents and hard work brought with the new immigrants who sought refuge here.  As we waited for the bus, the sound of Hare Krishna chanting could be heard, the bagpiper having finished his solo.

I felt like London had come of age, a place where, at its best, you are free to be whoever you want to be.  I’m still pondering the sari with jeans and Doc Marten’s though, but you never know.

Christmas diversity in London

This afternoon was the annual carol service at my son’s school. I had missed the past 3 or 4 years, mainly because of work commitments, so it felt a joy to have the time and freedom to go along. Susen came along with me and I was conscious of being the only ‘mixed’ couple there.

Maybe it’s because I used to study sociology, or maybe I am just curious (nosey) but I find myself looking around the room and audience, analysing what is going on. The audience is mixed: perhaps 50/50 white and Asian (mostly Indian). The ethnically English parents all seem slightly ‘hippy-ish’ to me, like they all ought to live in Totnes or somewhere similar – but are stuck in London. No smart suits - except perhaps among the upwardly mobile Indian parents (here on highly skilled migrant visas).

How strange, I think to myself. The Asian parents must be of mostly Hindu or Sikh background, with a minority Muslim. The white parents are probably English in origin, culturally Christian but almost certainly not church-goers or believers. And here we are, altogether, continuing to celebrate the birth of Jesus, allegedly on 25 December. And I am sitting there, watching the children sing carols – some traditional, some modern – almost with tears in my eyes. What is going on?

I figure the Hindu parents are probably either quite secular or otherwise have a broad interpretation of spirituality, fostered by the inclusiveness of Hinduism (at its best). In the Qu’ran, Jesus is seen as a prophet, so Muslims will accept Christianity and Jesus as part of Islam (at its best). For the white English parents, it is probably just cultural – amplified by memories of their childhoods and the Christmas rituals.

The teachers also are from different cultures – again mainly English or Indian. Parents video and photograph their children all the way through, no doubt to send to relatives back in India. As I sit there with Susen, all around us we hear conversations going on in Hindi, and thus inaccessible. No doubt if I joined in, the language would switch to English, but the Hindi forms a slight barrier to joining in.

The carols started and a child (of Asian origin) stood up and narrated that Christmas ‘celebrated the birth of Jesus, the son of God’. Now there is a controversial statement if ever I have heard one. I might have couched it in very circumspect language, ‘Christmas allegedly celebrates the birth of Jesus, said, to believing Christians, to be the son of God’. But maybe my legal background has rubbed off onto me too much.

Susen remarks: It was a joy to see the children singing with such gusto, carols that I remembered well from my childhood. The teachers, also from a myriad of ethnicities, marshalled the children well and encouraged them. Afterwards all the parents mingled over tea and a welcome mince pie. These traditions would have been unknown to my parents but we were encouraged to take part. At the end the headmistress made a short speech congratulating the children on their performances.

Initially I thought that the carols and their significance would be lost on the Indian parents. But I remembered that most of my cousins in India would have been to church schools which are among the best in India. So perhaps to some of parents we saw today those carols would be very familiar.

I find the influence of church / chapel very strong and it is somewhere I go on occasion to light a candle or to go to a service. I find it remarkable that such traditions still have a hold on me despite the fact I do not consider myself religious. It’s the combination of the music, mainly choral, and the atmosphere in church. I feel very much at home.

So strange that we stick to these rituals: for myself because I am not a Christian, although culturally Christian, for Susen because he is culturally Hindu but brought up in a Christian society.

We drank tea and ate mince pies afterwards. I chatted to the father of my son’s best friend (Indian, Hindu, just become a British citizen after being here on a highly skilled migrant’s visa), also the mother of another friend (Jewish, here for many years and local to the area).
And drove home, wiping a slight tear from my eye and so proud of my son.

 

Identity and diversity in London 2012

Officially now I am an ethnic minority in London according to the latest UK census statistics released from 2011. That is actually quite a strange thought. In London now, white ethnic Britons (ie. white people of English, Scottish or Welsh heritage) make up only 45% of the population (although all white people, including those not ethnically British are still slightly in the majority).

I don’t want to fill up this article with loads of statistics as there are plenty of other news sites that will do that, but here are some snapshots:

• London’s population is now 8.2 million – an increase of 12% since 2001, making it the fastest growing region across England and Wales

• Hounslow (Borough – where I live) has a population increase of 17.6% since 2001, Tower Hamlets increased 26.4% and Newham is up by 23.5%

• Overall in London, 37% of the population was born outside the UK (this includes those born in other European countries and also to British families living abroad)

• The top source of new migrants to London was India, followed by Poland then Bangladesh.

• Hounslow now has 23.27% of the population who are Asian or Asian British (Newham and Tower Hamlets are both at around 30%)

• The population who describe themselves as ‘mixed race’ has increased by 50% in the last decade in English and Wales as a whole.

Does it matter though? The argument always goes that the UK is made up of various invaders and immigrant populations through the centuries, many of whom have encountered discrimination and opposition when first settling here. These include the Romans, Vikings, Normans, Huguenots, Irish and Jews among many others. The pace and scale of change, though – especially in London - does seem to be something new.

Listening to a radio phone-in this morning, it was interesting to hear callers, who themselves were immigrants back in the 60s and 70s, now objecting to the presence of recent new arrivals – denigrating them in the same way they may have been spoken of when they first arrived. The area of London where I live is certainly very different to the suburb where I was brought up. My son is at a school where the class is probably 1/3 white (of various backgrounds: EU and the UK) and majority Asian (Indian / Pakistani) with some Somali. Among the parents in the playground you will hear a lot of Hindi/Urdu being spoken as well as Polish and Somali. The school has also had to expand to cater for the population increase – for the last 2 years now taking in 2 classes of children per year group, rather than one – housed in new portacabins in the school grounds.

My local Tescos and Asda stock large bags of basmati rice and chapati flour, Indian spices, chick peas, dhals, coriander, paneer – everything you previously would have had to buy from a specialist Indian grocery shop. The Asda has a large halal meat counter and a Polish section. Both Tescos and Asda had counters selling Indian sweets for Diwali. I am conscious sometimes in my local Asda of being one of very few white English people there. Some of the signs at the till are in Hindi.

Among my friends and acquaintances, the majority are probably post-war immigrants to the UK. My own family has also become global – with my 2 brothers living abroad in Asian countries. My wider family, originally from Liverpool, are now scattered around the world in Canada, the USA, New Zealand, Sweden, Alaska, Hong Kong and Thailand.

Personally I have always loved London because of this, because of its openness to new arrivals and cultures, its tolerance and freedom for people to be whoever they want to be. I love that we can at least strive to be a model for the world on upholding human rights, the rule of law and equality of all no matter what our background, ethnicity, religion and so on.

But still, a strange thing happened recently. At my son’s school, they teach about all religions, and mark each of the important days and festivals – Diwali, Eid, Hanukkah, Chinese New Year as well as Christmas and Easter. The assemblies are not therefore particularly Christian, which I was absolutely fine with, not being a believing Christian myself. Then one day I caught the end of ‘Songs of Praise’ on the television and I suddenly felt quite sad that he was not being brought up with the Christian culture that I was brought up with: he wouldn’t know all the hymns that I knew, from singing them every day at school, wouldn’t know the ‘Lord’s Prayer’ that we recited every day, the grace we said before lunch at school or the range of Christmas carols. Nostalgia set in, even though I am an atheist and don’t believe in the theological underpinning of Christianity or go to church.

I can acknowledge that for my parents, and grand parents generation – particularly in London and other cities in the UK – it may be bewildering as their neighbourhoods are changing so fast around them. It may be that the last 10 years have been an exception for the UK, with population growth fuelled by the open door policy to some of the newly acceded EU member states, by the continuing demand for highly skilled workers in the City (particularly in IT) and also by overseas students coming here to study.

For my generation (and the next one now), we have been brought up with the diversity enough to learn to embrace it. It’s probably an art and takes experience and wisdom to know how to preserve our own sense of identity whilst learning from and being open to others. Let’s hope we can continue to do so here in London and the rest of the world.

 

Cosmopolitan London

The other day I invited my Pakistani friend and her partner over for lunch. It was a delight to see them, as always, and our conversation ranged from schools and education, to politics and Bollywood. There were 4 of us: myself (white British, culturally CofE origin), Susen (Indian Bengali Hindu origin), my friend (Pakistani Muslim origin) and her partner (Irish Catholic origin). All of us living in London and having far more in common than anything that might divide us.

In my family, we have nearly all the major religions represented through marriage, relationships, conversion and children: Hinduism, Islam, Buddhism and Christianity. What a fantastic place London is. Long may it continue.

Sydney, Athens, Beijing, London, Rio....Delhi?

During this summer’s London 2012 Olympics we happened to be on our annual summer holiday in Turkey. We missed most of the Games but managed to make it back in time to see a third place match for the women’s basketball. Public transportation worked well, we had a great meal inside the O2 venue, and the entertainment was more popular with the child among us than the main event. Luckily we managed to avoid being picked up by the Kiss Cam (a participating spectator sport that is not de rigueur at the IPL cricket).

There were some issues with the staging of the Games, most notably the failure of G4S to provide enough security guards, but the armed services stepped into the breach and the public welcomed them with open arms. The volunteers were a great success entertaining the crowds waiting patiently in queues. The London Games organisers learnt not only from previous games but also other sports events globally including the IPL. Overall the Games were widely reported to be the “Best Games Ever” although it is unclear how one can make such a sweeping generalisation.

Yes, the Games were a great success: Britain nearly met its overall medal targets, and the country was certainly overcome by “Games Fever”. But one forgets the pessimistic notes that were struck well before the Games: public transport would collapse (people were warned to take their summer holidays or work from home), there would be public outcry about the special Olympic traffic lanes, hotel capacity would be insufficient, and the public would fail to turn out. There were comparisons with the farcical opening of the new Terminal 5 at Heathrow Airport. In fact none of these issues really materialised.

So, why did the Games go well? Britain is a highly developed economy capable of organising such a spectacle (although we haven’t done so often), it has a well-developed transport infrastructure (albeit stretched), it has a well-established sporting pedigree in most Olympic events and the public participated in the Olympic spirit.

During our vacation in Turkey we frequently made comparisons between Turkey and India and mused that soon Istanbul would host the Games ahead of Delhi. This was only my second trip to Turkey and I found its level of development surprisingly high. At a seaside resort far from any major centres the streets were clean, there was a model of urban development, clean water and sewerage was available to all. On a trip inland taken on a clean local bus we found fast roads. The economic comparison with India is instructive: Turkish GDP per head is almost 4 times higher, but the total Indian economy is ranked 10th in the world while Turkey is only ranked 15th.

So, why as I learnt while Istanbul is bidding for the 2020 Olympics is there is no bid from India?

India has after all successfully hosted the Asian Games (twice) and the Commonwealth Games in 2010. Hosting the Olympic Games is almost a marker for a country’s arrival as a world power. In 1964 Tokyo hosted the Games seemingly to establish its re-emergence as an industrial power, Mexico in 1968, Moscow in 1980 (although that was to “celebrate” Communist totalitarian power in the midst of the Cold War), Seoul in 1988, Beijing in 2008, and in 2016 another BRIC city Rio de Janeiro, will host the Games.

It is clear that India could be making a bid for the Games to further its prestige, to announce its arrival on the world stage as an economic superpower. It has many other elements in place: increasing clout in international affairs (albeit without the much desired Permanent Membership of the Security Council), a space programme, nuclear weapons, some world class companies (Tata, Infosys amongst others).

Were the political elite haunted by the memories of the Commonwealth Games of 2010? In fact it was not some minor issues but how the organisers reacted to these setbacks. One may recall Commonwealth teams making disparaging noises about standards of cleanliness in the Games village; one of the organisers reportedly said: “Everyone has different standards about cleanliness. The Westerners have different standards, we (Indians) have different standards”; I don’t think one would hear that from a housekeeper at a Taj or Oberoi hotel. Meanwhile a pedestrian bridge near a stadium collapsed; another organizer reportedly said it didn’t matter as the bridge was for “ordinary people”, not athletes. So that’s OK then.

Perhaps it is a fear of being unable to organize a major event but by all accounts the Commonwealth Games, although a much smaller event than the Olympics, went well.

Is it that India has failed in the Olympic Games in recent times? At the London Games India won a total of 6 medals (2 silvers and 4 bronze), a rather disappointing tally for a nation of 1.2 billion and the 10th largest economy in the world. By contrast Russia, with a GDP just slightly higher and ranked 9th, won 82 medals. India placed 55th out of 79 countries for total medals won, below North Korea, and below other BRIC countries. But if the medal tally takes account of population and GDP, India comes last. Not a very good outcome.

There is probably limited support from parents of potential athletes who want their children to be doctors and engineers, and the income inequalities mean few have the general good health needed to become athletes. In short despite a potentially large pool of Olympians there are few that could realistically aspire to such levels. In addition, there are limited sporting facilities in the country. Furthermore, compared to the size of the country there is no political and economic support in developing athletes on an industrial scale.

Some commentators assert that India is a one-sport country: cricket. But most large countries support more than one sport; in the USA it’s baseball, football, basketball, and others such as ice hockey. Perhaps in time more sports will develop in India, and sponsorship will enable new athletes to emerge, but in truth this takes government support in developing basic facilities, and coaches.

Different countries have often found sports at which their populace can excel, but again this takes continuing government support. There are no votes in developing athletes perhaps 10 years before they win medals. African countries have, for example, focused on running events. Perhaps a lack of money is the main barrier.

It is clear that India could organize and host an Olympic Games; let us not forget that Rio is having considerable doubts about its capabilities as many facilities are nowhere near ready, and there are concerns about transport and gang violence. But it would seem an abuse of power and profligacy when so many of the Indian populace live in abject poverty, when rates of literacy are low (it has the largest illiterate population in the world), and there needs to be increased focus on basic public health measures.

Unquestionably India will host the Olympic Games but it needs to be ready industrially, economically, and in terms of sports culture. Indian GDP per head is still far below China’s in 2008. In time India will catch up and pass China. Until the mass of the population participates successfully in the economy India will continue to have to look inward and not on furthering its prestige externally.