Day: 30 May 2011

As I go through my fantastically rich life, visiting so many countries, experiencing so many cultures, beliefs and foods, that little voice in my head is often heard to shout “I don’t believe it“, how could they drive like that on the wrong side of the road? (I am British, and we drive on the correct side). How can they believe this or that to be true, and how could they eat that stuff? (See my blog Horseshoe Crab).

I was brought-up in a British society, with its’ beliefs and customs, and they are deep seated, down in my unconscious, directing me through my daily tour of life. These customs and beliefs become our standards which we live by, the rules which we use which say what is right and wrong, and they are so deep in my psyche, that after arriving back in London’s Heathrow Airport from a trip abroad, and I stand at the bus stop to catch the X26 bus back home, non native British people arrive after me and stand at the front of the queue, getting on the bus before me.

Have these people no sense of what a queue is for?

First to arrive has the right to be first on the bus.

Why don’t they form an orderly queue?

Where are their manners?

I just don’t believe these people. They have no remorse. They don’t say sorry or excuse me. They are in their own little cocooned world where everything is for the taking, for them and only them.

I am driving in a foreign country, and I see someone wanting to cross the road, so I slow down and indicate them to cross, and do I get a thank you? No.

Where are their manners?

Other drivers do anything they can to get that one car infront. They push they shove, they cut others up, they sit up the exhaust pipe trying to push the other person or intimidate them.

Where is their sense of community?

Eating abroad brings its’ problems for me. Certain food tastes are so abhorrent (horrible) to me they make me physically ill. Seeing a whole fish with its’ white eyes staring at me and its’ mouth wide open turns my stomach.

How can people eat such food? And, rice with everything, where’s my potatoes?

The older I get, the more entrenched I get my old beliefs, and that little voice in my head says, “I don’t believe it“.

There is a fantastic British comedy series shown on the BBC called One Foot in the Grave, which ran between 1990 and 2000.

The series looks at the life and exploits of Victor Meldrew (Richard Wilson) as he faces life after an early retirement and he tries to battle against modern life.

Victor tries to keep himself busy but he is beset with misfortunes and misunderstandings, his next-door neighbour is always finding him in compromising situations leading him to think that Victor is insane. Victor’s wife, Margret (Annette Crosbie) is the long suffering part of the partnership, never giving up on Victor.

Victor’s catch phrase in the series is “I don’t believe it“, and as I mature with every year and encounter new situations, I am getting more like Victor Meldrew day by day.