Thursday, July 14, 2005
Christopher’s Manchester Weblog - Summer 2005 - Days 14-18 - Fanta Orange, British Accents and Chine
More on life in Manchester in the summer of 2005.
Well, its been almost a week since I wrote to you all, and its finally time to catch up on what has been going on here.
For the most part with me, being sick, resting, watching the rain fall (in torrents sometimes), revising my thesis, photocopying articles, and reading have been what I have been doing. Not too exciting huh? Now you know why I have not written before now. That having been said, a few things I noticed in the course of daily life here this week…
Food Products – The UK must have become the repository for all those old food products we used to have in the US, but no longer do (because they are hideous, ineffective, etc.). There are times when I have expect to see a Woolco’s and a Shakey’s Pizzareia over here. But, given the, em, British taste on things, there are a few products you might recognize:
Fanta Orange. Someone please explain this one to me. I have mentioned this orange drink before (the first summer I was here), but I still don’t get it. People not only drink it….the pay good money to drink it. It is ubiquitous to say the lease-gas stations, fine restaurants, carry-away restaurants, you name it.
There was a big controversy here last week because the new Diet Fanta Orange commercial features two lovely people drinking the new diet drink and then spitting it out (ostensibly because they cant believe its diet). Well, within a week, children across the UK were busy spitting out fluid on every playground and school grounds in the nation. The makers of Fanta, one Coca Cola company (now I know why their stock is sliding), said, “The point it obvious. We do not in any way accept the idea that kids are spitting because of our commercial. They understand the point of the advert.” Yea, sure they do.
So, finally I had decided I had to try this wonder drink. I felt a little like I was joining some secreat society and was about to drink chicken blood – now I was going to be official an Anglophile. So, one of the students here gave me a can as we walked to the bus stop. I took a long drink….it tasted….fuzzy, sugery, disgusting, and wicked all at the same time. It reminded me of the episode of DS9 (Star Trek) where Quark gives a bottle of Root Beer to the Cardassian tailor Garek. They both drink the root beer, find it revolting and then talk about how it reminds them of the Federation. And then Quark says, “the really insideous thing is, that the more you drink it, the more you like it.” Well, that was my fear with Fanta Orange. It reminded me of the darker side of the Brits, and I just couldn’t have that.
I couldn’t swallow it. I spat it out…right in front of a home where a woman was out in her garden. She shook her head at me (I am not sure I heard her, but something on the order of “copycat hoodlum”). Timing is as they say everything. I handed the can back to my school mate with a “Cheers to you” and quickly took out a piece of gum to get the taste out. Failing that I was ready to start chewing my pipe tobacco…anything to get the smell and taste of Fanta Orange out of my system. Anyone wanting a six pack let me know before I leave.
Pearl Drops. Does anyone remember this product from the 1980s? It was a teeth whitener long before Crest Whitestrips. I seem to recall a commercial with a towel wearing beauty licking her teeth and saying, “They feel terrific.” I had not heard of or seen said product in years, but when I went to the Tesco for teeth whitener (all the tea and coffee you know), there it was. I assume from the name that it has real pearls in it (the picture from MASH where Frank Burns is rubbing the pearls on his teeth to make sure he gave the fake set to Major Houlihan and the good set to his wife comes to mind). Bought it and tried it out.
Now I know why its no longer a big thing in the States. It doesn’t work. In fact, I think my teeth are getting darker. Before long I am going to have a dreaded English smile if I keep using this product. Perhaps it works like Nausea medication, not relieving the illness but helping you to get sicker to get past it. Anyways, I have a half used tube if anyone desires to try it. Remember, it will make your teeth feel terrific.”
Lamb and Mint Potatoe Chips. Those who have been with me since my first trip know the revulsion I get everytime I see Prawn and Onion chips over here. I mean, really, prawn? But it is nothing compared to the latest rage….Lamb and Mint chips. Somewhere in my mind is a would-be commercial from the Simpsons, “Lamb and Mint, together at last.” First of all, does anyone really want to eat Lamb? And then mix it with mint? On a crisp? Well, apparently yes, and these are quite popular this year. So, again, taking my life in my hands I asked a fellow student here for a chip out of his bag. In case you are wondering, no I don’t eat meat, but I was hard pressed to think that anything close to a real lamb was actually used in the making of this product.
One again, I dove in. Chomping away. Letting my saliva get activated. Then it hit. Two hideous flavours at once. According to my friend, I turned green, then orange (same day as the Fanta) and then ran from the room. In the future when I am feeling courageous, I will stick to downing toilet cleaner, as this was simply the most foul thing I have ever tasted.
No wonder Jacque Chirac spent his time before the G8 making fun of Finish and English food. Any nations that would sell “Lamb and Mint” crisps doesn’t deserve to hold the Olympics. Guantanimo Bay maybe, but not the Olympics.
There are other wonderful such products to enjoy while you are here, but right now I am making my stomach turn, so I press on to other news.
Of course the bomb attacks in London have been big here. With the exception of a few ultra-Leftists Britain is resolute in its stand. There are people from at least seven nations killed, Muslim, Hindu and Christian. Whatever the bombers were hoping for, I don’t think this is it. I have heard more anger in the voices of the Labour folks here at college than I ever have before. Fortunately, no one has said or done anything stupid against the large Muslim community here, which Thursday night had its doors shut at their local meeting house despite always having it open and it being a very hot day. I made a point of smiling at those entering that evening, to let them know that the anger is not directed at them. They seemed to genuinely appreciate the effort.
With it having been such a gloomy week, I decided to engage in a little culture Friday night. One of England’s best known small theater companies is in town this month doing plays outdoors, so I went to Wythenshawe Park to see The Importance of Being Earnest. This involved a three mile walk through one of those neighbourhoods for which the term “seedy” was invented. The regular police patrols probably should have alerted me to something. Anyways, I walked on til I arrived at the park. What a great setting for a play. Big English manor in the middle of the park, and the performance was out in the flower garden. It was a beautiful night, and I grabbed my “seat” (i.e. a camp stool) and sat down to enjoy the play.
It was quite good. The acting was excellent. I said at one point about 20 minutes in, aloud to myself, “These actors have some of the best English accents I have ever heard.”
It took about ten seconds for what I said to sink in. THESE ARE ENGLISH PERSONS. After years of seeing local productions in the States with very poor English accents, I guess I was too impressed to think that one through. Fortunately, I didn’t put it down on the opinion sheet that give to all the crowd. Don’t want to mark myself for any more of an American than I already do.
Anyways, the play was a riot. I was laughing so hard, and at the same time, while the crowd was clearly enjoying the film, couldn’t understand why they didn’t seem to laugh as much. British dignity I guess.
From there it was the same walk home. Decided to stop and get carry-away Chinese on the way home, from which I will give you a little advice as I close. When you go into a Chinese restaurant, and you cannot understand the owners because their British accents are too thick, you know you are not dealing with 1st generation Chinese. I suppose the fact that you could get your meal with either rice or chips (aka French Fries) should have been another clue. This was without a doubt the worst Chinese food I have ever tasted. It had been….Englisized. It was fatty, thick, greasy, and just plan awful. I know that Chairman Mao said to let a thousand flowers bloom, but some flowers are dandylions plain and simple. So, before you order Chinese food in Manchester, have a conversation with the owners. If its clear they know more about how Manchester United did in 1978 then about the fine art of Chinese history and cooking, keep walking. Oh, and if you never see anyone of Asian heritage eating at a place, but lots of Brits…there is a reason for it.
Only 7 more days and I am on my way home. Will write again after the weekend to fill you in on more cultural experiences – a concert and Church with the tweenies and doodles as part of the congregation.
Christopher
