Arrogant haircuts June 5, 2006Posted by BiB in Uncategorized.
Another reason for the posting being thin on the ground of late is guests. Homosexuals from the Big Smoke and we’ve been getting up to all sorts of mischief. (I feel 12. OK, 19.) I’ve got a feeling I might turn into one of the more boring, late-developer characters from a Hollinghurst novel. In a nod to being tourists in Berlin, we made our way to the Carnival of Cultures here yesterday. Did folk go? Too odd. As I emerged from the U-Bahn at Hermannplatz onto the Berlin equivalent of Kilburn High Road, there was a Trinidadian float with folk strutting their stuff and waving (and dropping) flags. “Oh, Notting Hill Carnival,” I thought. They were followed by the Hare Krishna float which had been hijacked by an old loon riding a bike with vegetation attached and then came the Goa float, which was full of 18-year-olds having a rave. On Kilburn High Road! In the rain! The Brazilian float had the blondest and least coordinated Brazilian dancers I’ve ever seen. The Country and Western float was far the most popular, thanks to post-Eurovision Country and Western mania here. I think.
Anyway, this is by the by. The guests concurred with me that the official language of London is now Polish. Is there nothing that nation can’t turn its hand to? Not only do Poles now staff every cafe and building site in the capital, they’re solving Europe’s priest shortage too. As I, by some very wicked twist of fate, plotted by my father, no doubt, ended up working for a Catholic organisation in Russia, I was constantly surrounded by Polish priests. All the females that came across them would say, “What a waste!” I would pretend I didn’t know what they were talking about. But yes, Poles and Catholicism. When I went to Bialystok from St. Petersburg to attend some conference, there were spangly new churches all over the shop. And I’m wondering whether there are any priests, or at least seminarians, in the Polish World Cup squad. I fully expect Poland to win the World Cup. And for tears of joy to be shed. And then tears of misery that they hadn’t won it earlier. Go Polska! Go Polska!