sometimes life is idyllic

It's a pleasure watching Montmartre wake up this crisp morning, as the roaming portrait artists amble to work ahead of the tourists' arrival. A pleasant, still-sleepy calm still rules the cobbled streets here at 10-ish a.m.

A bit earlier as my friends and I vacated their Thanksgiving week Airbnb apartment, I waited on the sidewalk with their toddler son while they took care of parting details inside.

Covered in a bathrobe, the downstairs neighbor opened her shutters for the morning. Since I was nearly touching her window's bars while my toddler friend watched the antics of pigeons across the street, from the vantage point of his stroller, the neighbor-du-jour and I exchanged bonjours and then started chatting. She said she's lived in Montmartre for 38 years, but the neighborhood has changed a lot, and she's planning a return to her roots in Montpellier. This strikes me as both sad and happy. We didn't talk long enough for me to discern how she feels about the impending move.

Since then, I've ensconced myself in a Starbucks, from which a group of Asian tourists (sorry I can't distinguish their roots without asking) has recently departed. American import it may be, juxtaposed against the local treats of this morning, but here I'm free to fit in a few hours of work on a stubborn project before I head on to the next leg of this present escape from the isolation of my Pau apartment. I am hoping the creative vibe and lingering glow of a fun two days with old friends will work some magic on this long-in-process bit of writing.

May it be so.

the era of fixed things

If not for Air France's manhandling, my next suitcase purchase--whenever that day came--would have most likely been online or wherever I found the cheapest valise after hours and hours of research that would have included minimal opportunity to actually handle the bag I might buy. So while at first I was frustrated with another complicated-feeling thing to take care of in a place where I still don't know how everything works, I'm now a little grateful to Air France.

Because yesterday my unplanned suitcase purchase happened here at SPARBE, which turns out to be a family-owned business that's been operating in this same location for nearly 80 years. It was incredibly pleasing to walk in--at first just to see if they could repair my bag--and find that they knew exactly what needed to be done, knew exactly which forms the airline would ask for to prove the suitcase couldn't be repaired, knew exactly which form to submit to request reimbursement for the replacement carry-on, and were just all-around knowledgeable in helping find a bag that matched my damaged one as closely as possible in size (it was a larger-than-usual carryon that I wasn't eager to say good-bye to). It was really nice not to have to navigate another complication totally on my own.

This has turned into a sappy-sounding Yelp review of a mom and pop store from a bygone era, but because of them, a really frustrating experience turned into such an unexpectedly positive experience that, well, sappy-be-hanged, it was great enough to be worth recording for internet posterity. ;-)

A few of my broken things that are now fixed!

 The Fixing-Things Era

Perhaps because I've been here long now enough that belongings I owned before I came to France are getting old enough to be showing some wear, this summer began ushering me into a whole new era of life that involves fixing broken things. And it's turned into a lovely era for a few reasons:

1. It's nice to get to keep using belongings that I like a lot. No need to despair over discovering that something is damaged!
2. It's nice to avoid spending dollars or euros I don't have to replace things I hadn't prepared to replace.
3. It's nice to avoid shopping, which I really don't like. And to avoid having to figure out how to replace products I'm attached to but can't find exact replacements for here, only in the U.S.
4. It's given me a chance to get out into these lovely small shops and converse with people. When you're buying something, you don't necessarily have to talk much. But when you need something fixed, talking is much more necessary. No slinking into shops anonymously.

Becoming so nomadic has already changed my relationship with belongings--I try to mostly only own what I really need, not exactly the bare minimum, but close (as close as possible, given that I'm not a real minimalist...hence, my need for the very largest carry-on suitcase possible). I guess you could say that I keep pretty short accounts on my belongings these days, and I have to be pretty practical about things...if it's not useful, I don't keep it. This has even extended to the books in my life. You know it's serious when I ration how many of those I own at a time!

So in my long-ago, faraway American life, unless I or my parents could fix something fairly easily (and to be sure, I don't come from a family of cobblers, so shoes were not on the fix-it list), I assumed it had to be replaced. I never thought of going to a shoe shop to have my shoes fixed, for example. I didn't even really know where to go to have them fixed. Here, there are cordonniers in pretty much every town of reasonable size.

Thus, having things fixed is fairly easy to pull off...though I've taken to giving the cobblers and other fix-it people here magical powers in my mind, so then I'm disappointed to discover that not everything, said suitcase as an example, can be repaired.

I'm a New Woman

In short (I know, I know...after all those words...), this is just one of many only-sometimes-perceptible internal changes that has taken root inside me courtesy of changing cultures for a while. I suppose I knew those changes would come, except that when I came to France, I didn't know I'd stay so long, so I wasn't thinking about how four years and counting in this place might change my insides.

At any rate, I judge this change to be a good one.

strangers in bruges, belgium

As I walked into his shop to pay for postcards in Bruges, Belgium, at the end of a weekend visit a week and a half ago, I overheard the shopkeeper explaining to the Welsh couple standing before his back-of-the-store counter that Bruges was still seeing normal amounts of British tourists but that Americans had dropped off following the terrorist attacks in Brussels. Suspecting he was someone who enjoyed talking, I chimed in as I approached the counter, "We're Americans who aren't afraid." Or something to that effect. And then began a lovely conversation with this charming man while my friend browsed his shop for gifts.

We'd read in a guidebook that the Flemish aren't very friendly, but this man certainly didn't get that memo. He and his wife have had the shop for 30 years and love it, though retirement is near. Unlike other shopkeepers who keep strict hours, they get there when they get there and leave when the store empties out in the late afternoon. He lives 7 km outside Bruges in a home that includes the dream retirement garden he's created, where he plans to putter around once the shop closes.

When customers approach his cash register, he offers their choice of language: Dutch, French, English or Spanish. But then he mentioned the cheat sheet he's holding in the photo that's normally tacked to the wall beside the register and explained how much people appreciate it if you can say even a couple polite words in their language. The language menu then expands to Greek, Turkish, Polish, Russian, Bulgarian, Hungarian, Czech, Japanese, Indonesian, Chinese, Korean, Thai, Ukranian, and Hebrew! We talked about the difference between the Flemish and Dutch languages, and I learned that it's the same language with some vocabulary differences, like American and British English. But he did note that the Dutch tend to be more direct in their communication, whereas the Flemish will take the long way to say something to try to make you feel good about what they're saying.

Talking with this shopkeeper was a highlight in a day filled with pleasant interactions with strangers, from our Airbnb hostess to a bus driver to helpful direction-givers in a restaurant. The world is a beautiful place! 

refugees welcomed into french communities

Yesterday afternoon, newspaper headlines caught my eye as I visited a press kiosk on Place Clemenceau to buy some postcards.

Communities in my part of France--Béarn--are preparing for the arrival of refugees, as France prepares to dismantle the ill-reputed and controversial "Jungle" in Calais, where refugees have taken up camp in hopes of escaping over to Britain, and moves the camp's residents to temporary welcome centers around France.

During both 2015 and 2016 as the refugee crisis engulfed Europe, I've intentionally looked for opportunities to volunteer with refugee aid in France, but there have so far not been any easy-to-find opportunities where I've been living in the south of France (in Marseille in 2015 and now in Pau in 2016).

Yet today I've learned that a community on the edge of Pau will be welcoming 50 refugees. Perhaps I can finally get involved! But in addition to an article detailing how that community is preparing for their arrival, the mixed reactions of community members, etc., a smaller article caught my eye yesterday as I read the newspaper (a too-rare pleasure to read the news on paper!) at a new-to-me café that smelled delectable inside (I had to content myself with only a coffee rather than the lunch menu deliciousness wafting from the kitchen).

Here's that article and the results of the translation exercise I've given myself today.

“A huge wave of solidarity in Baïgorry”

Jean-Michel Coscarat, the mayor of Saint-Etienne-de-Baïgorry, a Basque town that welcomed 48 refugees from last November 15 to February 15, says of this experience: “I made the choice to welcome them. There was a huge wave of solidarity. It couldn’t have gone better. I saw in their eyes, as soon as the first refugees arrived in the dark of night, that they had experienced painful times. More than 80 volunteers helped out. They had interpreters, French language courses. Heads of companies called us to offer refugees employment...There was a little apprehension at the beginning, because they arrived just after the November attacks [in Paris in 2015]. We very quickly reassured the community. The intercultural festival organized when it was time for the refugees to leave was fabulous. Some of them come back to see us still, especially those living [nearby] at CADA [the center for people requesting asylum] in Pau. This experience was really great. No one regrets it.”

November 3 update: Media reports of the emptying of the Jungle don't totally match this on-the-ground account from a person volunteering in Calais: "The Jungle" Calais from our own correspondent.

fairy wonderlands do exist

An open door with a fringe of dangling flowers begged me to pause my errands and enter this church I'd not yet seen inside of. I stepped into another world, one of wonder and delight, a city church become woodland church. Turns out that area florists decided to decorate the Eglise Saint Jacques in Pau this past weekend for the Festival of Saint Fleur (there's really a saint named Flower...except in English she's called Flora of Beaulieu). For now it was just a one-time thing. Today's Tuesday and the flowers have been there since Friday when there was a concert inside their perfumed midst. If ever there were a time to literally stop and smell the roses, today was the day. What could beat a flower chandelier? Magnifique!! 

See a few images of the installation in progress in this article from the local newspaper.

america and france, when they just don't get each other

Interesting. Fascinating. Something to consider when next you're making foreign policy decisions. :-)

"Americans are definitely irked by the French habit of contesting the United States on every issue, but what really bugs the French is that the Americans seem to expect everyone to agree in every instance. We started to wonder if Raymonde Carroll's theory of couples' behavior didn't also apply to France and the United States on the international stage. Americans want nothing more than a perfect show of harmony among allies. The French think that if the relationship is strong enough, it should be able to withstand strong differences in public." 

--from Sixty Million Frenchmen Can't Be Wrong by Jean-Benoît Nadeau and Julie Barlow

bathing sans american prudishness

It's a later-post from December 2015! In which I report from Tunis, Tunisia.

I can't show you pictures of what goes on in this building, but I can describe in words what is one of my new favorite cross cultural experiences. I have now bathed in a public bath house--women only, of course--and been scrubbed (exfoliated) by another woman whose job it is to spend the day in the steamy, tiled bathing rooms scrubbing all the naked bodies who pass through, well naked except for panties (kind of like some French beaches!).

The woman in the front room (where you pay before disrobing and walking into the bath section, leaving your towel behind) who runs the place explained that you need to come at least once a week for some good scrubbing, but if you can't make that, then once every 15 days is essential. She also explained that European women and even other Arab women besides those of North Africa just don't understand how important it is to take care of yourself this way. This scrubdown seems to be traditional mostly only in Tunisia, Morocco, and Algeria. Owner-woman was a flight attendant in her younger days and still enjoys meeting people--running the bath house is much nicer, she says, than staying at home all day with just her 26-year-old son around for occasional company. 

Raise your hand if you, too, have been to a bathhouse! #thingsineverdreamediwoulddo

les vacances

'Tis the season of vacation here in France. These photos offer just a tiny sampling of all the similar signs gracing restaurants, cafés, boulangeries, and shops around town.

As crazy as it may seem to profit-conscious Americans, businesses here regularly shut down for two weeks or more in late-July/August. It's vacation time!

This can be rather annoying when you yourself aren't on vacation and are trying to live a normal life during August. There's no telling whether the places you're used to frequenting will be open. It can also be annoying if you're traveling on vacation somewhere in France. I still don't really understand how it works - everyone's traveling but what is there to do if all the shops are closed?

But on the other hand, I really respect the underlying idea that money isn't everything. It's rather beautiful to live in a place that doesn't see production and profit as the greatest god to be worshipped. Taking time off, traveling, lounging with family, resting, enjoying some good meals - these are valued here. So much so that shop owners around France have posted charming (or boring) signs in their windows to explain why they won't be opening their doors or turning on their lights or firing up their ovens for the next few weeks.

doctors: a crossing cultures episode

After pausing outside her office until her phone call ended, I let the receptionist know I had arrived for my appointment. She said she would tell the doctor I was there. I took a seat in the sunny waiting room down the wide hall where others who entered after me offered a "bonjour" to the room as they sat down. I had missed that step. Oops.

Doctors' offices here in the center of a French town are often located in the same buildings that house apartments. For example, there's a doctors' office on the ground floor of the building some friends of mine in Aix live in. This can be convenient when packages are delivered when they're not home, as they effectively have a concierge in doctor's clothes to accept their deliveries. As you can imagine, though, a doctor's office in an apartment building might be configured a little differently than the strip mall/medical office building variety I'm used to from back home.

When it was my turn before the doctor, it was he himself who poked his head into the waiting room and called my name. The same thing happened the one time I went to the dentist here. It was the dentist who came to collect me. As is the way with subtle cultural things you don't realize affect what you're expecting, I never realized before that it's perhaps an American norm rather than a worldwide norm that there's always an assistant of some sort of who does such banal tasks as getting patients situated in exam rooms.

In the States, I've perhaps never been inside a doctor's actual office--the place where he or she keeps their books and papers and photos of family. If I have, it's been a rare occurrence. Normally, I only ever see the small exam rooms, usually dressed in white and sterile-seeming décor, though with occasional slightly personal touches (my childhood doctor's exam rooms were graced with those famous images of bulldogs in upper class dinner attire smoking cigars around pool tables).

Here in France, though, I've twice now been ushered into large rooms with a messy desk and accompanying desk-accoutrements in one corner and an exam table and sink and other exam room things in another corner. The doctor does his exams in the same room in which he replies to email. Novel (to me) but not super novel I suppose. I must say, though, that it feels weird to climb upon an exam table in the middle of a large room (even if it's sort of in a corner). I end up feeling exposed. It's weird how weird it feels. Because on the face of it, it's not that crazy.

When it came time to pay yesterday, the doctor wasn't giving clear instructions, just kind of pausing as he sat behind his desk after he'd finished writing prescriptions. And I was internally confused about what was supposed to happen next. When I had time to sort it out later, I realized that again, this is how cross cultural moments work: something collides with what you're expecting, but it takes some seconds to understand that this is the reason it feels like you're moving through the moment in slow motion, trying to find firm footing where you know what you're supposed to do or say next.

I asked if I was supposed to pay him or the person out front. He was probably wondering why in the world I would be so confused about all this and why the person out front would have anything to do with this and why I kept asking if such-and-such was something he would do or her. To my American self, the doctor never occupies himself with such things and never has a credit card machine right there among all his desk-accoutrements. Again, processing payment is to be done by assistants after you leave the exam room and while the doctor rushes off to do the important work of doctoring the patient waiting in the next tiny, private, white exam room, with their chart waiting in the chart holder thing on the wall beside the door. But not in France. Here the doctor handles all that while seated at his desk in a large warmly decorated (in this case, anyway) room.

This is only my second doctor's visit in this country, and the last one was two years ago. There've been lots of other slow motion cross-cultural moments to wade through in the meantime. But maybe now that I've written about it, I'll remember the unspoken rules better the next time I climb onto an exam table in the middle of a large room, and next time I'll need a little less prompting on how to conduct myself. Maybe?

doors that demand poetry

Textured.

J'adore.

Run your hand along me

and feel the beauty of the world.

Aging. Beautifying.

Earning my wrinkles.

café life

Working from home, I try to get out of the house at some point in most days. I can't always take work with me, in which case I go for an end-of-the-day coffee and reading time at my favorite around-the-corner (or three)-from-my-house café.

Despite their sometimes status as rodents, pigeons still crack me up. And this one was bold this early evening--pulling up a seat as though he'd been invited, making the rounds like an expert but unbeloved mingler.

This photo inspired me to dig out my watercolors, or maybe just tap over to the app that lets you pretend to be a painter. (Thanks, waterlogue app!)

   The persistent pigeon, un client non-payant au café.

brexit continued: Philip's full comments

Here's Philip Worré's full Brexit quote, a portion of which is included in my article over on Blue Dot today:

Despite its shortfalls, the EU is overall a success story. People tend to focus on the negative aspects of the EU, such as the institutional complexity, the decision-making process, or high financial cost. But programmes such as ERASMUS or Commission-funded research programmes have been overwhelmingly successful.

However, this is not well communicated – which is a shame, as many British voters were misinformed about the EU. The EU is not a communication agency – it is up to national governments to promote its achievements and the benefits of membership to citizens. However, the EU is too often used as a scapegoat for the failures of national governmental policies.

Above all, I am saddened by the Brexit vote. I haven’t changed my mind – I grew up in a bi-national European family, and understood very early on the importance of cross-cultural exchanges, and how these promote peace. The EU was founded following the end of the WWII to ensure lasting peace through cooperation and trade. Yet, following the Brexit vote, the spectres of nationalism and xenophobia are reemerging, promoted by populist parties throughout Europe – the very same issues that were at the root of the last world war.

Regarding what comes next, I believe the UK will face uncertain and challenging times. There are the "internal" questions of Scottish independence, as well as the future of Northern Ireland. Above all, the main issue that the next government will have to tackle is bridging the deep divide within British society between "Brexiters" and "Remainers," which is essentially a clash of generations: the outward-looking, well-travelled, more educated, affluent and connected younger generation versus a more concerned, conservative and apprehensive older generation. There will also be the “external” issue of negotiating a fair deal with the EU. I personally believe that all parties will be realistic and understand that obtaining a productive agreement would be in everybody’s interest – although it is almost certain that the final deal won’t be as beneficial to the UK as EU membership would be.

brexit continued: E. Amato's full quote

Here's E. Amato's full Brexit quote, a portion of which is included in my article over on Blue Dot today:

Obviously, you couldn't vote, but how would you have voted if you could have?

As a nomad, and as someone who loves London for its ever blooming and shifting cultural world, I could only see the remain argument. But that is a London-centric viewpoint, and may be the crux of much of the energy behind the Leave campaign.

As an American, I am awed by the freedom of movement in the EU and the great advantage that people take of it to travel, work and study in countries not their own. That coupled with the intertwined economic interdependence between the UK and the EU states made it clear that my choice would be remain. I could visualize the massive economic fallout, as well as the cultural fallout of a Leave vote, and it made me wonder how any elected official could responsibly make that argument.
Why do you think exiting is a bad idea?

Millennials have had the hardest time of any generation post World War II in starting their lives as adults. In the EU, they have found ways to mitigate the bad circumstances by studying in other countries, forming new types of communities and building businesses from the ground up. Exiting puts a huge kibosh on this ingenuity, and basically sets this generation back again to where they were pre-crash. Additionally, they are the ones who have to live with this decision for a lifetime. Those over 65 are essentially voting fear of a diminished pension, while forgetting the importance of the economic viability of all the generations coming up after them.

It will be devastating to lose the EU money that freely flows into the UK's current economy. When you factor in other foreign investors, who are leaving in droves, you are looking at something far worse than the 2008 crash and over a much longer period.

Culturally, it's an isolationist argument penned in another century. There is a sense of nostalgia for something that never was - a white, British country. It seems clear that the first two agenda items will be closing borders altogether and decimating the NHS.

From your outsider-insider perspective (non-Brit who's spent lots of time there), what was the tone in the run-up to the referendum?

I was in Edinburgh before the vote. The feeling was strong that Scotland would vote remain. Additionally, there is a bitter pill in the vote, as Cameron promised Scotland that the UK would remain in the EU in his negotiations with the country before its independence referendum in September 2015. That promise, among a few other points, may be what swayed the undecideds in favor of staying part of the UK. There was a strong sense that there would be another independence referendum upon a Leave vote.

And what has been the tone since?

I arrived in London the night of the vote. In the morning I found out that the UK had voted to leave. It was the most surreal feeling. On the street, people were so quiet, it was if the whole city was hushed. It was a Friday, but there was no sense of a summer weekend jubilation. Glastonbury was starting and it seemed unthinkable that people could be enjoying a festival environment. Since then Cameron has resigned, there were massive Labour party resignations, the pound has dropped dramatically, the Chilcot report has come out, and every day reveals a new drama. No one seems to know who's leading the country. Yet people do go on. Busses run, trains run (well, about the same as always), and people go to work, go home and go about their lives. But there are many questions, confusion and a sense of limbo underneath it all. 

How would you explain to other Americans why this should matter to Americans?

Power. This was very much a vote of the people to entirely change their union. The campaign was badly handled, and there was clearly no plan on the part of leadership for a Leave vote, however, that is not the fault of the people. The people mandated massive change in a way we see maybe once in a lifetime.

brexit continued: Carole's quote in French

Here is the French version of Carole's Brexit quote, which is included in my article over on Blue Dot today:

Dire non à cette Europe telle qu'elle est aujourd'hui, ce n'est pas dire non à l'Europe, c'est dire non à des réglementations et des lois qui nous plombent.

Le manichéisme et la pensée binaire classent TOUT en deux clans opposés:

pour le Brexit= contre l'Europe= vieux= raciste= c'est les méchants

contre le Brexit= pour l'Europe= jeunes= tolérant= c'est les gentils

La réalité est forcément beaucoup plus nuancée. Ce qui est dangereux dans cette manière binaire (orientée par les médias et les poltiques) de voir les choses c'est que cela détourne l'attention des vrais problèmes.

La vraie question ce n'est pas l'idée d'appartenir ou de sortir de l'UE. La vraie question c'est oui ou non, allons nous continuer à obéir aux traités successifs qui nous plongent dans l'ultralibéralisme et nous enlèvent tout souveraineté nationale.

Malheureusement ce que nous voyons tous aujourd'hui c'est que tout le système est bien bloqué et nous, les citoyens européens, n'avons aucun poids sur les décisions de Bruxelles. Donc la seule solution, c'est de mettre un gros coup de pied dans tout ça, il faut que quelque chose change. On est dans un rapport de force et ça ne peut être que radical, on ne fait pas d'omelette sans casser des œufs. Ce qui m'étonne beaucoup c'est que tout le monde est dégouté, tout le monde voit que les conditions de vie et de travail se dégradent par les effets de cette Europe mais on laisse faire, on continue.........va comprendre.......et tout le monde est choqué par les résultats du référendum britannique.......?!!!!!

brexit continued: Mark's full quote

Here's a bit more from Mark Roberts on Brexit, a portion of which is included in my article over on Blue Dot today:

“I see it as a really complex situation. I don’t think it’s black and white. I tend in general in any situation to see both sides [and that’s been the case in this situation too]….

“For me it seemed straightforward that we’d remain in Europe. I didn’t see the advantage of leaving. [The experts, business leaders, and movers and shakers in the world were advocating staying, and they tend to know these things.] I had a generally positive perspective toward the EU….I supposed I’ve benefited a lot by being able to come over to Europe, live and work here. So I’ve seen the advantages of the EU. I hadn’t really looked into the disadvantages.”

The night of the referendum, Mark stayed up late to find out the results.

“It was a shock to see Britain is leaving [and so much happened that same day, the pound plummeted, talk of Scotland leaving the UK, the prime minister stepping down…]. I think everyone was a bit lost….I was quite removed from the situation. It was bizarre to be on the outside looking in. It was unpleasant. There was a lot of anger between those who voted leave and those who voted remain...."

"I was feeling really frustrated, really stressed. That first week was really hard. I was going to work but thinking about what was happening in the U.K.”

Mark decided it was time to call home, since it had been so hard to get the real picture of things via Facebook. He talked to older family members who surprised him by saying they were in favor of leaving. According to Mark, they’re people who aren’t anti-immigrant, one of the images regularly painted of those in the leave camp.

Instead, these family members had done a lot of reading and explained that things that had been promised with the EU hadn’t happened. They also noted that without a democratic basis, the EU is a dangerous system with a huge amount of power. So that was why they were against it, not because they didn't like immigrants.

“I can understand the leave camp, and I can understand the remain camp. I think the thing that’s really sad for me is that we left without having a proper plan….The whole country is in this confusion and uncertainty about the future which is quite serious.

“The United Kingdom is no longer united. It’s divided. [There are those who’ve taken the decision to leave as an excuse to be very anti-immigrant, for example.] I’ve seen the country change hugely in the last two weeks. Two weeks ago we looked like we had everything under control; now it’s more like we’re in a spiral.”

“I think the U.S. can take a lot of warning, to realize how quickly things can change in a country based on one vote. It can be a wake-up call for the U.S.”

brexit continued: Louise's full quote

Here's Louise Lawson's full Brexit quote, a portion of which is included in my article over on Blue Dot today:

Have I changed my mind in the aftermath?

After my initial reaction to the results, I was pretty sad (I expressed this in my Facebook post). I found Facebook frustrating that day because everyone was very opinionated and more divided than I anticipated. I dreaded viewing people’s gloating statuses, [but] people were nicer than I anticipated, there was a little back and forth, some passive aggressive statuses and lively discussions, that I foolishly engaged in until I thought better of it. I think I was a bad loser though.

I think my sadness stemmed from feeling that people weren’t sure why they were making the decisions they were; many voted to leave, but many couldn’t fully identify why. For me, the desire to remain was from taking counsel from a friend of mine who warned that Britain would experience a recession and how millions had been taken out of the country in the lead-up to the referendum, already. I read up on the arguments, I listened to news dominated by the referendum, and I asked for guidance on which way to vote. I felt that we had chosen to exit much like trying to leave YouTube--where it asks if you’re sure and says ‘cancel’ or ‘exit’. It felt that it had happened too easily, but there’d be no way back in, once the decision was made. It felt so final. Which it is.

I felt the majority of people were going to vote to exit and had friends who did but weren’t sure why, so I wasn’t surprised at the outcome. What can only be described as propaganda had been bad leading up to the referendum, and although it was a long time coming, I felt we didn’t do our homework, and a massive decision was placed in our hands.

I am unusual in that I have been brought up under the European Union, passed freely through countries, and lived in a few EU countries, something made far easier through being a European Union country. I felt like many without a full grasp of what the EU even is or does gave that all up too easily.

I thought exiting was a bad idea because I didn’t feel the negatives outweighed the positives. I was, if I am honest, happy with the status quo and have benefitted from being part of the EU. Many people never expressed an opposite opinion until the referendum was offered; nobody ever spoke of our EU membership until the last few months.

I wanted to remain, as I felt we were just fine being a part of the EU. I have benefitted greatly from being an EU citizen, living in France for four years, Germany for 3 prior to that, and working all over Austria. I never once had to go through an intrusive medical exam, fill in a visa application, or jump through the hoops my American or Australian friends have had to. In retrospect, maybe my own reasons are naïve or misguided, but time will tell what the true implications of this decision are. Some of my ‘remain’ friends are less hopeful, but over the weeks I have been mindful that whatever the outcome, my trust is in a sovereign God.

It has been strange watching the government disintegrate and realize that they didn’t really have much of a plan B. I’ve heard one party, who focused on the fear mongering regarding mass immigration, back pedal after promising the £350M we currently put into the EU per week could be filtered into the National Health Service instead. It has felt like a farce--so many of the Labour party resigning and our own Prime Minister stepping down.

Why do you think exiting was a bad idea? Is it bad for Europe, bad for the UK, or both and why?

Initially I felt it would be bad to leave, mainly for the UK. In the light of recent news stories (which are hard to wade through for truth), it seems like it is also bad for the rest of the EU--this is unchartered territory, we are the first to leave. Interestingly, countries who were happy trading with us are working to maintain that relationship, countries such as Germany--which gives me hope we may be okay. Sadly, it has created dissension with Scotland again (who almost 100% voted to remain). They have since talked of another referendum to become independent from England.

Funding that we as a country have received will now be withdrawn, and we have been told there will be an inevitable recession. A period of austerity is never a fun prospect. I feel less fearful as I don’t have a high paying job, I don’t drive an expensive car, I don’t have any investments, so I don’t have as much to lose as the people who are better off than me.

I didn’t anticipate the mess it was after the decision was made: people pitted against one another, petty arguments, our prime minister stepping down, and most of the Labour government (the shadow cabinet) resigning and trying to get their leader to resign. People we thought would take us through the Brexit, such as the prime minister, have stepped down, and others have refused to stand for leadership, and those that have are the best of a bad bunch. It seems that all bets are of’ and we have a storm to weather, yet a lot of us are remaining calm. Maybe it’s our renowned stiff upper lip.

How I feel Post- Brexit

I feel less sad about the turn of events, not because nothing felt that different overnight, as there was still media focus on what is happening post referendum. Now I feel more resigned, I realized there was no point agonizing over a decision that is made, and my initial sadness has resided. I disliked the mud slinging between people who voted to leave and people that voted to remain, though it has been interesting to hear the reasons why people voted either way, and I realize it certainly wasn’t black and white. I’ve been disgusted to hear that people have told non-British citizens to 'go home' and feel we have stooped to an all-time low. In an age of extreme political correctness, this is unusual, yet I feel is largely down to UKIP scaremongering about the amount of immigrants arriving in the UK and stretching our already tight health service and taking 'our' jobs. I keep waiting for this to just blow over.

I felt the referendum was clouded by ‘confusion and delusion’-- that was my opinion. This didn’t surprise me, but it was almost surreal to be living in the aftermath, and the 24th June felt like a bad dream. It divided people, yet many didn’t fully understand the implications of their decision. Many expressed their certainty that they now had some extra control and that they would get what they wanted in a way they had never before. I think they were high on the victory of getting their way. Many wanted to leave the EU yet dictate their own agreements (these are my Facebook observations). Many felt we would become ‘great’ again and this was heralding a new time, a new season, a New Britain. This remains to be seen; I hope it is true. I am not fearful of such a government shake-up. Britain is a small island and has come through a lot worse, it is in our DNA and blood. How we deal with the next couple of years remains to be seen. Perhaps this is the change we need– I fear we have symmetry with the USA though, a leadership race with no clear candidate of promising potential. I fear we will both settle. I pray we do not. Again, time will tell.

brexit continued: Paul's full quote

Here's Paul Adlington's full Brexit quote, a portion of which is included in my article over on Blue Dot today:

I voted to remain in the EU. My belief in inclusivity and equality and my dislike of nationalistic pride played a part I’m sure, but ultimately I voted to remain because the UK, as the 5th largest economy in the world, should be a net giver, not a net receiver. I know there is a strong case to argue that the UK receives more than it gives – i.e. the economy is stronger and British citizens are wealthier as part of the EU – but the leave campaign’s  repeated claim that we give more than we receive and it’s desire to abandon responsibility for refugees helped make my final decision. The reason to remain is that we should be taking responsibility, as part of Europe, especially in times of economic and refugee crises – in times such as now!

I don’t believe there is a problem with the free movement of people, and I don’t believe that too many people are coming to this country. Why did we need to sell a row of houses in Liverpool for £1 each last year if we really don’t have enough houses to give people homes?

The real issue is investment, incentives and honest governance: A well-organized, non-corrupt Europe could provide investment and incentives to help create healthy, prosperous and safe areas all over this country and Europe, areas where people can build their lives without having to leave loved ones [behind] while they migrate for meagre wages and poor conditions miles from home.

Besides – the UK is a much better place because of its cultural and ethnic diversity. We should be embracing it.

After the vote I was reminded, as I was after the last general election, how we live in a bubble in London. The majority of the country must have felt very disempowered to vote in such a way. This really needs addressing politically, and also with the media – who must take a portion of the blame after their insistence on publishing mainly extreme minority views.

After the vote our politicians seem utterly lost. Honestly, I am praying and hoping that something good comes from the mess they have led us into, the mess that the two key leaders have now abandoned for somebody else to clear up! My hope is that the European leaders don’t react out of anger and hurt but that they allow this referendum to serve to kickstart EU reform, and then allow the UK back in.

However, my greatest sadness following the result is the way some people seem to have used it as an excuse for racist and xenophobic behaviour. I am dreadfully ashamed of this. There can be no future with this attitude!