5 lessons we can learn from Brexit

It’s not a great week to be English. Yesterday our football team crashed out of EURO 2016 in a match they had been tipped to win by every last bookie, but that was nothing compared to watching the UK crash out of the European Union on Thursday, after a referendum that the ‘Remain’ camp had been tipped to win by every last political pollster.

Yes, the humiliation of a shock 2-1 defeat to Iceland in front of 35,000 people at the Stade de Nice pales into insignificance during a week where we Brits have had to watch first the pound sterling dropping thirteen points against the dollar, then the coalition and the opposition wings of government falling apart, and finally Nigel Farage gleefully celebrating what he termed the UK’s ‘Independence Day’ – a well earned independence from common sense and political prudence, one can only assume.

I am broken. Many of my friends are suffering through similar feelings of disbelief, rage and betrayal. For every article written by a ‘Leave’ supporter celebrating the result, there’s an article written by a desperate ‘Remain’ proponent wanting to disregard the vote and continue living in a pre-referendum UK, as if it were somehow possible to pretend that such a seismic political event never happened.

Let me be clear. As much as I would love to turn back the clock and pretend this was all some kind of twisted nightmare pulled from the book of my deepest, darkest fears, we can’t. Reversing the decision on the EU would not change the fact that 52% of the country are vastly unhappy with the current political landscape of our country.

So, what can we do, here at the point of no return?

1. Vote!

Look, someone had to say it. Despite 73% of 18-24 year olds and 62% of 25-34 year olds wanting to remain (source: Lord Ashcroft Polls), the low turnout from my age group meant that our voices went largely unheard against the much louder roar of older generations. It makes me angry to think that so many people my age either didn’t want to vote, or just didn’t care about the outcome, especially since we’re the generation that’s going to be dealing with the fallout for the longest.

It’s not enough to like funny political memes on Facebook, it’s not enough to put the world to rights over a Sunday afternoon pint with Bob from down the road, it’s not enough to rant and rave after the results come out and you realise that your idea of British and their idea of British are two completely different things: we ALL have to go out and vote. Simple as that.

2. Widen the conversation

When we talk about politics, the conversation needs to include our elders and not just our peers. As much as those lefty liberals would love to have you believe that the Leave camp is constituted entirely of casually racist, beige-faced withering old farts from Barnsley, that’s just not the case. The people who voted Leave are, metaphorically speaking, our parents and grandparents. How can there be such a separation in ideology between two generations, and even between two generations of the same family? Well, that’s a damn good question, and one I think very few of us gave the attention it warranted.

When my dad mentioned he was thinking about voting Leave, I laughed it off as a joke; a first-generation immigrant who has worked for the NHS for 25 years, with several Masters degrees and an encyclopaedic grasp on recent economic and political history, whose family has benefited from enhanced academic funding for the sciences and a million other EU directives … my dad voting Leave is the political equivalent of a turkey voting for Christmas, I thought. We never had the conversation, I didn’t ask what his final decision was, and on Friday I woke up to a United Kingdom that I didn’t recognise. Of course it’s always easier not to have the conversation, but in hindsight it’s a much better compromise than the inward-looking ashtray of a country we’ve been left with.

3. Lead by example

This result means that now more than ever we must be the change we want to see in the world. Good ol’ Gandhi once said that ‘if we could change ourselves, the tendencies in the world would also change’, and although a fair amount of the Leave camp are probably enraged by the fact that I’m a brown person borrowing wisdom from another brown person, I can’t help but feel that this idea is especially relevant today.

Yes, we lost our EU citizenship on Thursday, but that doesn’t mean they can take away our European outlook. Every time you see a news story or a Facebook video of a racist incident, channel the sadness and disgust you feel into doing something positive. Be a rebel. If you value freedom of movement, move. If you value the single market, buy European. If you value workers’ or parents’ or women’s rights, demand them. Most importantly, speak out – the burden lies with us now.

4. Keep following politics

I’m not an unreasonable person; I’m willing to believe that the ‘Leave’ campaign genuinely thought leaving the EU would involve certain benefits for the UK. I’m not, however, a gullible person, and if those benefits haven’t become crystal clear by the year 2020 then I will be voting a giant fuck you to whichever hollow sock puppet is in the charge of the Tory gentlemen’s club at the time.

Our enthusiasm for politics needs to be this strong, if not stronger, come the general election in 2020. The ability to reward and chastise political players via general elections is our unique power as members of the British electorate. Watch, listen and wait, and if it turns out that the Leave campaign was all just a sack of lies and power plays, then vote the Conservatives out.

5. Look to the future

Finally, we absolutely must widen the conversation to our younger siblings, especially those who are just a few years away from stepping onto a political landscape that has been heated to breaking point. Come the general elections in 2020, my little sister will be 21 years old, and I can either leave her political education to the media wolves or I can open a dialogue that allows her to better understand what happened last Thursday from a voter’s perspective. I can’t make her final decision for her, but I can walk by her side as she steps into the brave new world we find ourselves living in.

There aren’t enough cups of tea in the world to fix the damaged that has been wrought so far, but these five ideas might just be a start. If you have strong feelings about Brexit, please feel free to leave your thoughts in the comments section below.

260º West | Teaching, travelling and volunteering in Ecuador

10 things I miss about England

Before you read this post, why not read 7 things I love about Guayaquil or my love letter to Guayaquil, Ecuador?

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Of course I knew I would miss certain things about the UK when I left. I was totally mentally prepared for eight long months sin steaming cups of Twinings Lady Grey, really good medium-rare melt-in-the-mouth fillet steak, and oversize jars of Skippy’s extra crunchy peanut butter.

But there were so many things I didn’t even realise I was missing until I flew back for a quick visit last week – things that you force yourself to adapt to, without even thinking about it.

So here, in no particular order, are the things that I really, really miss about England’s green and pleasant lands:

10. Real news

… And by this I mean actual factual current events, reported in a way that is calm, unbiased and allows the viewer to make their own judgements. Having grown up in England, this was something I always took totally for granted, and it drives me crazy to have to get my daily news from male presenters screaming hysterically at the television and only reporting half the facts, interspersed with the female presenters dancing salsa in high heels and bodycon dresses. There’s a time and a place for that, and it’s not the 7am news cycle. However, I can’t say Ecuador is the only country guilty of favouring sensationalised stories over the type of reporting we’re used to in the UK – thank goodness for the BBC World service!

9. Personal safety

It has been such a huge relief to be able to use my iPhone here in the UK – whether that’s out in public, at night or in the city centre – without the constant worry of getting mugged. Although it may sound like I’m being overly cautious, I’m still not quite over the memory of a knife against my stomach while being robbed two months ago, and my flatmate has had two high-end phones stolen in Guayaquil in the space of just a few months. Lock your doors and windows, kids!

8. Public transport

I know it’s nothing compared to Switzerland and Japan, but I’d forgotten how reliable, safe and comfortable the London Underground and National Rail trains are here. Let alone that fact that we actually have trains. There’s a schedule, there’s a set route network, and there’s even an app to plan your journey! What more could you ask for? (Well, there is one thing: slightly cheaper fares? But that’s a post for another time.)

7. Shopping

Hole in your sock? You can solve that with £1 and 5 minutes in Primark. Need an external hard drive to back up your laptop? One click on Amazon, delivered to your door tomorrow. Not to mention how good England is at high street clothes! MY BANK ACCOUNT IS SO HEALTHY WITHOUT YOU BUT I LOVE YOU LONGTIME ENGLISH SHOPPING

6. To cook or not to cook

As much as I adore cooking, sometimes there just isn’t time in the day, and I find myself opening the freezer longing for a ready meal, or a jar of curry paste, or a tin of coconut milk and some fresh spices, or even just a bottle of name-brand Malibu to wash the cravings away. I know it’s a lazy habit, but a lifetime of conditioning has made me this way. And to all those single women who cook fresh every day and still find time to work, go out and maintain some semblance of being a fully functioning adult, I salute you! Teach me your ways!

5. Life in plastic

Using contactless cards to pay for things is the future; RIP cash-based societies – but I can put up with this for the time being since I know how differently things work in third-world economies. On a related note, I also really like being able to hand over a twenty-pound note to pay for something and not getting laughed out of the shop. Compare this with the eternal struggle of trying to find change in Ecuador, and the glare you get from the taxi driver when the fare is $2 and you hand over a fiver – now, that’s just crossing a line, clearly!

4. A woman’s worth

In the UK, women are not expected to wear skintight clothing all the literal time, and that is the best. thing. ever. I am sick and tired of people telling me my clothes don’t fit because they include a little breathing room. I’m sorrynotsorry that I don’t live in spray-on shorts and skintight strap tops, but that’s just not my style. Some of my skirts are flared, not pencil-cut. Some of my dresses are like a big tablecloth with a hole cut in for your head to poke through. No, you can’t see the shape of my body, and that doesn’t make me any less of a woman. Okay? Okay.

3. International travel

I know how ironic this is seeing as I’m living abroad, but I really miss travel! Or to put it differently, how easy and cheap it is to go abroad when you live in England. Thanks to Ryanair, £50 and a couple of days off work will get you a balmy weekend in Spain or a sightseeing city break in Italy. You wanna know how much it costs to fly from Guayaquil to Lima, the closest foreign capital? Four hundred dollars (£250). No joke. And that’s not even counting expenses while you’re actually there!

2. Healthcare

The NHS is the pinnacle of British civilisation. I’m serious. We have an incredible healthcare service and I never fully appreciated it until I had to undergo private healthcare in Ecuador. Not only did the doctor ask me all sorts of uncomfortable personal questions and try to sell me a spare room in her house during the appointment, she also recommended that I do a very expensive series of scans which the NHS later advised me were totally irrelevant to my situation. Profits and healthcare shouldn’t mix!

1. Friends and family

Being with people who really knew you when you were younger is such a privilege. Flying back home for a friend’s wedding meant I had a golden opportunity to catch up with all the people that mean the most to me here. It’s been fantastic to see everyone and the goodbyes have been somewhat emotional (there’s never enough time!) but I know we’ll make it through – we always do.

 

So, what do you miss when you go away from home? Do you agree with my list, or have I missed out something vital? Let me know in the comments below!

And in the interests of fair and balanced reporting (see point #1), next week I’ll be publishing a list of all the things I don’t miss about England – stay tuned!

 

260º West | Teaching, travelling and volunteering in Ecuador

Teaching English: Ecuador vs. the UK

After two months of non-stop manual labour under the relentless Ecuadorian sun teaching English as a foreign language in sterilised, air-conditioned classrooms, here are some insights into the effect that moving halfway across the world can have your working conditions as an EFL teacher:

#1. Time is relative

Holy smokes, guys. In London I was in the staffroom by 7.30am, printing and copying done by 8am, classroom perfectly set up by 8.30am, the very last student floating in at 8.55am. My students knew that when the door closed at 9am, they were either in or out. Beware all latecomers who pass here!

In Guayaquil, we wait for the school to be unlocked five minutes before our classes are supposed to start. By the time we’ve made it inside, got our textbooks out of our lockers and prepped the classroom we’re already running ten minutes late. But you see, it doesn’t matter because the students won’t turn up for another ten minutes. And then they’ll breeze in, no apologies, because they’re Ecuador-on-time.

You can imagine what that does to a borderline-obsessive, ridiculously punctual, over-organised perfectionist like me … but that’s just how things are here. My blood pressure is going through the roof, but it’s actually teaching me some valuable lessons. For one thing, it’s forcing me to relax rather than worrying myself to death over things out of my control. It’s also giving me a much better work-life balance!

#2. You can’t sit with us

The one thing I really, truly disliked about working in London was the cliquey-ness amongst the teachers. Obviously when you have that many staff working for one organisation, you’re not going to get to know everyone, but there was some deep-rooted high-school-esque segregation at work in that staffroom. Not so in Guayaquil, where everyone genuinely seems to talk to everyone, and the staff go on big group nights out and weekends away together. So refreshing!

#3. Spanglish

Teaching in London was like taking a round-the-world trip without having to leave the comfort of your hometown. My students came from all four corners of the globe and had the most interesting stories – everything from a Turkish student’s summary of the state of gender equality in Istanbul to one Eritrean boy’s account of his harrowing escape from the unstable political situation in his home country. The fact that every student had a different culture and language to share meant that discussion tasks were effortlessly rich and students never resorted to L1 to communicate.

The thing about teaching in Guayaquil is that classes here are monolingual, and the minor but persistent presence of Spanish in the classroom is a constant reminder that I need to adapt my teaching methods to account for it. Rewards, forfeits, gentle reminders, activities specifically designed with L1 involvement in mind – the textbooks are full of methods for dealing with this stuff. I just need more experience in learning how to work with it, rather than letting it work against me.

#4. Size matters

The school I worked at in London was the monstrous hub of a huge international chain of language schools. The school I currently work at in Guayaquil is a small satellite in that very same chain, but is about a quarter of the size of the London school. A smaller school means the facilities aren’t quite as nice, the resources aren’t quite as new, and admin tasks don’t get done quite as efficiently. However, it also means I actually feel comfortable speaking to the Director of Studies (DoS) when I have a problem, that I know where everything is and how to use it all, and that all the staff are pretty chummy with one another (admin staff included).

If I had to choose, I’d take Guayaquil over London any day in that respect.

#5. It’s all about the money

I know this stuff isn’t supposed to matter, but a girl’s gotta eat, and let me tell you that this girl’s eating a hell of a lot better here in Guayaquil than she ever did back in London. My old £17 per hour wage just about paid the rent on a skanky central London shoebox while leaving me enough money to buy groceries, eat out a couple times a month and maybe go to a couple of restaurants every once in a while. In Guayaquil, $11 an hour buys me a big double room in a lovely furnished flat and enough spare cash to buy perfectly ripe tropical fruit, freshly cooked soups and delicious main meals every single day, as well as going out for drinks once a week and travelling all over the country on long weekends.

As my American colleagues would say, you do the “math”.

Photo credit: deathtothestockphoto.com

48 hours later: lessons learned from moving abroad

I’ve done a lot in the last 48 hours, including moving 6,000 miles from England to Ecuador, setting a microwave on fire, and attending an 87-year-old woman’s birthday party.

Here are some lessons I’ve learned somewhere between leaving my house in England and writing this post in Ecuador:

#1. Travelling gets harder as you get older

Until last week, solo travelling was an absolute piece of cake, which mostly involved a much more youthful version of me waltzing off into several beautiful (but ultimately commitment-free) sunsets. This week, solo travel means moving across continents with two pieces of checked baggage to last you for two years, and leaving your significant other behind in a move you may live to regret for the rest of your life.

I suppose the older you get, the more roots you put down, and the harder it is to let go.

I also got really upset saying goodbye to my parents before leaving, which can only mean I’m emotionally unstable growing up. My response? Well, I’m not sure I should be giving away advice this good for free but … I watched a lot of sad films on the plane and just cried a bit. You heard it here first, folks!

#2. American Airlines wants you to suffer

I flew London to Miami to Guayaquil, and American Airlines told me I’d have to ‘pick up my bag at customs in Miami and re-check it to Guayaquil’.

What does this actually mean? It means that when your plane lands an hour behind schedule, you have to sprint through a multi-terminal airport devoid of any useful signage, frantically race to your baggage carousel and pay $5 for the privilege of using a trolley to ferry your suitcases about 200m down the hall to another, slightly smaller baggage carousel.

Are American Airlines incompetent, or are they just trolling me? Answers on the back of a postcard …

#3. Some things never change …

… like Guayaquil Airport, for example. It has not changed one iota, and that is a beautiful thing because it means I know exactly where to go, what to do, and how to get through immigration in the shortest possible time.

I also met a sales rep from a chocolate company who was travelling to Guayaquil for a cacao conference. (How do I get that job?!) He asked for some Ecua-tips, so I told him it was the end of humpback season in Puerto López. He didn’t seem to know there were whales in Ecuador – why does nobody seem to know that there are whales in Ecuador?

#4. Surprise! You suck at Spanish again

One month away has played havoc with my listening, accent and vocab. (On the bright side, I did get told that my accent is pretty guayaco last night, but I think my apartment manager was just being sweet.)

In July, after two months of solid immersion, I got pretty used to not having to try when speaking Spanish. That privilege has definitely left the building.

#5. A single Reese’s peanut butter cup is not enough breakfast to sustain you after 24 hours of transatlantic travel

Breaking news! Warn your loved ones!

#6. Access to drinking water is the greatest privilege known to man

Wasn’t sure if the tap water was safe to drink in the apartment and I still don’t own a saucepan, so I filled a mug with water and put it in the microwave for seven minutes. Thing is, it already had the teabag in, and when flammable materials like string and paper get very, very hot …

You can probably take it from there.

#7. Flatmates are horror stories waiting to be written

After 24 hours in the apartment, I’d met a grand total of zero flatmates, and started to wonder if anyone else actually lived here. This evening, I decided to bite the bullet and knock on a few doors to introduce myself.

Door #1 opened to reveal a fully naked guy who seemed to only remember he was fully naked when it was too late, and made a half-hearted attempt to hide behind the door while letting his head peek out at an awkward right-angle.

“Hi, I’m Sanchia, I just moved in here and I wanted to introduce myself!”
“Uh, hi.”
“Nice to meet you. I’ve got the room next door.”
“Okay. Is there a problem?”
“No, I just wanted to introduce-”
*door slams in my face*

Okay then.

#8. Community is everything

So I took all those positive, peppy life lessons and went to see my Ecuadorian host family, the people that looked after me while I was volunteering in Flor de Bastión from May to July this year. And as usual, they made me feel like I was just a long-lost older sister who had finally returned to the family. Mirka told me about her first week at university, I took Dalila to school, and then Zoila took me and Jonas to her mother-in-law’s 87th birthday party, where we had caldo de gallina (chicken soup but made with hen meat, which has a slightly tougher texture), pasta salad with rice, and cake and jelly.

And suddenly, everything was perfect.