NY-LON Part II – London calling

Call me biased but as far as cities go, London is truly phenomenal!

I like to think of it as the smart cool kid of cities. When you're in this densely populated city of 7.5 million, you feel like you're part of a vibrant metropolis that isn't defined by any one thing. It's colourful, it’s exciting, it's lively, it loves to debate but at the same time doesn't take itself too seriously. There are a million and one things to do that will engage your mind but at the same time allow you to bask in the glow of the ‘stylish set’. Londoners are some of the coolest city dwellers around. Although admittedly when I moved back a few years ago I felt like a fish out of water and what struck me the most was how well put together most people were. I was left wondering when exactly everyone became so stylish. Having spent time in France and Italy, I readily admit that the British are not natural style icons but like so many things - they are open to ideas and as a result they've learnt how to look good and make the most of their assets, not to mention the fact that the city being the melting pot that it is, has meant Londoners have become closely acquainted with Spanish, French and Italian style among others.

Aside from being on trend, London is an open-minded city. I think this is as a result of a massively diverse population who are allowed to be themselves, no assimilation for us thank you very much. Londoners get on with their lives, embracing each other’s cultures and redefining British culture as we know it, so much so that the last time I checked curry, (yes...as in korma or vindaloo) was the national dish!

Some may argue that it creates problems when people don't assimilate but I beg to differ. A lot of African, Eastern European and Asian children start school with English as their second language but as adaptable as children are, they are soon able to pick up the language, its nuances and convincingly speak and act British. To be British however is not to be confused with being English. For me, being British is about being articulate, appreciating a dry and sometimes dirty sense of humour, being self-deprecating, not taking myself too seriously, sharing a drink at the pub all the while knowing that I'll go home and enjoy some hip-life as I tuck into my fufu and okra soup and speak fondly of 'back home'. I know it must all sound terribly contradictory and yes I probably would fail the cricket test if it still existed today.

But back to this fabulous city which embodies my definition of Britishness! To compare it to New York or Paris would be doing it a disservice, yes it has all the bright lights of a big city; its theatre rivals Broadway, its architecture is comparable to that of Paris and Rome, but it is about so much more than all the trappings of a big city. London rocks because it is the most tolerant city I have ever visited or lived in. This may be as a result of the British 'stiff upper lip' which means that self restraint is the order of the day. Generally as a group we tend to not be shaken by much and this allows for a great deal of room to manoeuvre. A half-naked girl on the tube doesn't move Londoners; if however she were to start smoking, "well that simply won’t do!" At that point 'one would have to voice one's concern' ....mind you more likely than not 'under one's breath'. The effect of this stoic, some would say passive aggressive approach is that people can be themselves, however that is defined and this, is no mean feat.

London offers choice in everything, from entertainment to eateries, to clothes, to ideas. Although it can sometimes seem like too much choice is a bad thing, only when you're faced with a situation where everyone is 'singing from the same hymn sheet' do you appreciate its value.

I'm always struck by the 'underlying' lack of choice when I travel to Europe and to an extent North America. Underlying because it seems absurd to suggest that there is a lack of choice in Western countries when comparing them with some parts of the developing world, yet if you pay closer attention, you’ll see that what you get is simply 'more of the same'. I always notice particular products and franchises that are overtly more present than others when I travel to other countries. For instance, last summer I couldn't get over the fact that every single pushchair (stroller) I saw on the streets of New York and Boston carried the name of British manufacturer, Maclaren and I visited enough parks and child friendly areas to say that with confidence. I also used to find it amusing as a teenager visiting family in Maryland that every single American family I came across seemed to trust only Robitusson to get rid of their coughs, so much so I started my own theory that the company must be government-owned.

Moving to Europe, in Holland, it seems virtually impossible to shop anywhere other than Albert Heijn supermarket, whether in Rotterdam, Amsterdam or the Hague, I found myself confronted by the same A-H logo that made me think I was on some eerie horror movie set where the protagonist runs for miles and miles and finds herself back in the same ghost town.

In Paris, everyone who has ever ordered a Chinese take away in my presence seems to go for the same thing...'riz cantonais' and 'les nems'; in the US, the equivalent would be General Tso's chicken!!! I cant help but wonder if there's some unwritten rule book that everyone gets about ordering Chinese food when they arrive in these countries.
I admit that there are key brands that are apparent in this city too but I truly believe London makes for a much more discerning consumer. Whether it's clothes retailers, supermarkets, quality fresh produce, restaurants, clubs, bars, newspapers and even political thought.

Whether you're shopping at Portobello market, grabbing some dim sum heaven at Ping Pong or watching a show at South Bank, there just seems to be more on offer including the opportunity to use your head and if necessary to go against the grain.

The only thing to bear in mind is that when in London, conformity is simply not an option!

NY-LON Part I – The City that never sleeps

I can assure you that it’s not a myth or hype; there really is something special about New York. The City with more than 8.3million inhabitants is so densely populated you’d be forgiven for thinking the whole world descended on its shores in search of their American dream. In New York however the dream is less American and more multicultural. In 2000 when the last census was taken, 44% of New Yorkers were foreign born and over 170 foreign languages were spoken in the City. More than any other city in the world, New York embodies the term ‘melting pot’.
If you’ve never been to New York but are familiar with London then think of it as an amplified version. Both are undoubtedly impressive cities but New York seems to have more gloss, Times Square dazzles whereas Piccadilly Circus impresses. The statistics of both cities are not unlike each other with New York accounting for a slightly higher population and percentage of immigrants even though the London Olympic Committee claimed that over 300 foreign languages are spoken in the London every day. I would still put my money on New York having a more multicultural feel, because more so than in London, immigrants seem to thrive in the City. African-Americans who make up a quarter of New York’s population also add to its multicultural feel. The home of Essence magazine’s headquarters which celebrates the achievements of African-Americans, New York City is a success story for a number of Black people including but not limited to those who have been formally educated. There are many African-American families who mirror the lives of the Cosby Show’s Huxtables and boast property portfolios that include beautifully preserved Brownstones in Harlem and Brooklyn worth over $1 million. By contrast there is evidence of poverty in parts of the City with a high concentration of Black and Latinos; there are neighbourhoods, admittedly beyond mid and lower Manhattan where high rise apartment blocks hold stories of drugs, crime and illiteracy. The worrying thing is that the gentrification of neighbourhoods like Fort Greene and Park Slopes in Brooklyn as well as Harlem has resulted in poorer people being pushed into deprived areas and the creation of ghetto cities that propagate the cycle of poverty. Today Manhattan’s population is 51% White and Affluent with Americans and expatriate Europeans buying up properties that carry million dollar price tags.

As a visitor, New York captures you; the selection of restaurants, theatre, galleries, museums and stunning parks is enough to send your head into a spin. There is an abundance of choice when it comes to entertainment and because the city has featured so many times on the big and small screen, every location, every yellow cab, department store becomes even more magical and you feel like you’re attending a casting for the love story, New York. The lines between real life and art become even more blurred in a city that is home to so many of the rich and famous. If it’s Star-Spotting you’re into then there are bars and restaurants where you can go and feast your eyes provided of course your wallet can take the pressure.

For me, it’s the little things that make New York so phenomenal. I discovered the city as a fearless 20 year old staying with my uncle in lower Manhattan at the corner of 1st Avenue and 14th street. The first thing that struck me was how noisy the city was and also how hard it was to differentiate between the days of the week, a Sunday was a busy as a Friday with some businesses operating 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I realise that this is hardly everyone’s idea of living bliss but for a young insomniac, I relished being able to pick up a tub of Baskin Robbins ice cream at 3 O’clock in the morning. I also loved the fact that I could walk blocks; walking the equivalent of 5 kilometres would feel like a leisurely stroll as each block had its charm, its shops, cafes and people that I could marvel at. I discovered the East Village and then the West and kept going back for more of its eccentricity. Every day was a challenge to see which self-assured African-American man would come up with the most creative chat up line. I was blown away by the fact that they thought my 5ft5 curvy frame as worthy of praise where men in London tended to look through me and hone in on the borderline anorexic blonde. Lines like “Do fries go with that shake baby” and “Are your folks terrorists?.....cos you da bomb” deserve a place in creative language courses in my humble opinion...of course.

I partied with Brooklyn’s Jamaican community at nightclubs on Utica Avenue and tasted the best Trinidadian roti at a small restaurant in Crown Heights. I witnessed the rise of the fashion designed Moshood and his success in fusing Nigerian and African-American cultures within his vibrant and unique pieces. I was blown away years later by the diversity and charm of Fort Greene. As big as the city is, this neighbourhood and others like it feel like a small personable community where everybody knows and cares about each other.

Harlem represented African American achievement and I recall meeting a family of American-Americans who were third generation University graduates and PhD holders. Having come from West Africa where there academic and professional achievement was a given, to London where I discovered that being Black and a doctor was a big deal, it was refreshing to see so many accomplished Black people.

Over the years I’ve been to free concerts in Central park, had my hair braided in Petit Senegal in Harlem, read poetry at the Brooklyn Moon Cafe, been transported in the books I read at the architecturally stunning New York public library. My experiences have been as colourful and varied as the City’s population. The underlying theme though that I think makes New York City the greatest in the World is its lack of conformity. The City refuses to be one thing or the other, it everything to everyone and there is more than one way of making a life in New York, with millions of its inhabitants taking the road less travelled every day. I have countless friends who have shunned the doldrums of a nine to five existence; poets, photographers, jewellers, entrepreneurs working and living successfully on their terms. I’m still amazed to find so many people in parks on a normal work day when you would expect everyone to be pushing paper in congested open-plan offices as the majority do in other cities. I love the fact that although the city is fashionable, you can still walk around in last season’s trends without anyone batting an eyelid. There is a broader definition of style in New York City, far from being all about this season’s colours and cuts; it’s about creating your own unique identity however unconventional.

If you’re the adventurous type, a visit to New York City will make you feel like you just fell down a hole and landed in Wonderland. There is so much to see and do and experience. It can be daunting but the key to the Big Apple is to take one small bite at a time and to savour it as slowly as possible.

My expose on immigration in the Netherlands

It started out as a joke between a friend and I, everywhere I went during my short break in the Netherlands, my inquisitive read: nosey personality got the better of me and I would start quizzing 'foreign-looking' people about where they were from and what exactly they were doing there. In all honesty I found it odd to find black people in the streets, shops and restaurants of Amsterdam, the Hague and Rotterdam and what’s more they didn’t look like visitors passing-by but rather like this was their home, where they belonged. I realise it’s a clear indication of my ignorance because of course black people have immigrated to countries all over the world so why should Holland be any different. Unlike the UK, the US and France though, I find the idea of someone from Africa or the Caribbean settling in the Netherlands hugely fascinating, I mean where does an immigrant from the Gambia for instance start in such a place? You not only look different but you also sound different and have never ever spoken a language that sounds anything like the Dutch language. Settling in foreign countries is hard enough even when the language is the same because of course for many Africans the culture is completely different to what we’re used to – so you immerse yourself and hope it will get easier as time goes by. Awestruck by all this – I started quizzing people I met in the hopes of learning more about these clearly resilient immigrants who had made the Netherlands their home.


In Rotterdam I met a waiter from Cape Verde - a Portuguese-speaking island off the west coast of Africa. I asked him how he came to live in Holland and learnt that his parents emigrated there some 15 years ago. He also told me that he spoke his indigenous language at home with his family and learnt Dutch from an early age which was now his main language of communication. Apparently there are sizeable Cape Verdean, Curacaoan and Surinamese communities in Rotterdam. Curacao which is a small island off the coast of Venezuela is in fact still part of Dutch territory and part of the five islands known as the Netherland Antilles that also includes Bonaire and Sint Maarten (the Southern half of the island of St Martin). Suriname, on the other hand is a former Dutch colony and Dutch speaking therefore it made sense for these islanders to settle here. My interviewee also told me that many of the stunning Surinamese and Curacaoan girls I saw, a number of whom were pushing ‘designer prams’ were born or came to the Netherlands as very young children and were essentially Dutch now. Unfortunately as a group, the Dutch islanders have a bad reputation, perhaps unfairly so but the general view was that they were lazy and aggressive. There is also a high percentage of teenage pregnancies within their communities and disproportionately so especially as the Dutch have the lowest teenage pregnancy rates in Europe. According to official statistics, there has been a growth in the number of unwanted pregnancies among ethnic minorities in the Netherlands with women from Surinam, Turkey, Morocco and the Dutch Caribbean, accounting for considerably more abortions than 'indigenous' Dutch women - in 2004 the figure was 60% of the total number of abortions carried out compared to their relatively small population. To give you an idea of where they sit in the country’s population as a whole - online figures suggest the population in the Netherlands is divided as follows - Dutch 79.71%, Turkish 2.31%, Indonesian 2.3%, German 2.28%, Moroccan 2.1%, Surinamese 2.06%, Netherlands Antilles/Aruba 0.83% and Other 8.36%.

With interview no. 1 in the bag, I decided to pick on some poor unsuspecting boy working at a MacDonald’s in Amsterdam city centre (of course my visit there was purely for research purposes). I should have known better than to try and get a man to multi-task because I quizzed him as he served us and watched as he broke into a sweat having to process so much information all at the same time. He just about managed to give me the information I was asking for as well as handing me two sachets of tomato ketchup. He repeated my question...a little baffled using his limited school English - 'where are my parents from?' - "Yeah", I barked "...and whilst you're thinking about it can I also have the ketchup I asked for five minutes ago?” Once we'd established that he was half Jamaican and half Surinamese and spoke mostly Dutch, I thanked him and left, much to the amusement of his equally young, also black colleagues. Unsurprisingly 85% of the staff in this MacDonald’s was young and black. So I guess that was one thing black immigrants in the Netherlands had in common with the ones here in the UK.

I also spoke to friends who work as expatriates for the various international organisations based in the Hague who told me that they found the Dutch quite unfriendly and some would go as far as to say quite racist. Political correctness was non-existent in a country where the people prided themselves on their humour even if it meant laughing at the cultural differences of others. There were adverts on television portraying black people as wild and primitive and things that are no longer said or done in the UK certainly for fear of accusations of racism were done in the Netherlands and their justification was that this was their sense of humour, like it or lump it.

I came away from my mini investigations with even more admiration for Black immigrants in the Netherlands than I had started with because I realised that aside from a difference in language, culture and skin colour, there were other difficulties which immigrants had to contend with. For instance in 2006, the Dutch introduced a test that all immigrants had to pass if they want to move to the Netherlands - this included watching and being questioned on a DVD which covered nude beaches, homosexuality and the sex trade as part of Dutch culture. So if you’re coming from a conservative society then you’d better for a crash course in Dutch liberalism. I met an exchange medical student from Burkina Faso who was attending a summer programme who had been traumatized by a trip to the red light district as part a cultural tour of Amsterdam. Even I found the whole women displaying their ‘wares’ in shop windows a little hard to take so I can’t imagine how this boy who was leaving his strict Christian home in Ouagadougou for the first time in his life must have been feeling.

Living as foreigner in the Netherlands takes even more pliability than living as an immigrant in other parts of the world - you clearly have to be prepared to immerse yourself in a culture that is so strangely different, so opposed to the one you are used to and so unapologetically rigid. Overcoming these differences is no small feat so my hat is raised to the immigrant who moves to Holland and settles there raising their children and succeeding in spite of everything.

(you are not) Welcome to the USA

I'm usually a big fan of the USA although I don't buy into the American dream thing, I do admire their 'can do' attitude and unshakeable belief in what they can achieve as individuals and as well as a nation even if it's sometime misplaced..

New York is probably my favourite city in the Western World although London can sometimes edge it out ever so slightly when the sun is out. So in this vein I was psyched about my recent holiday plans and inspite of extremely poor customer service on the Delta airlines flight, I was still looking forward to spending time in the insanely busy NYC.

After enduring an 8 hour flight - God knows why or when it started taking so long to go from London to the East Coast of America, followed by an hour on the tarmac waiting for a space to park and then according to the clearly incompetent pilot, for 'a million pound plane whose towbar was broken' to be moved. We finally got to leave the plane, and walk through a series of narrow corridor and down several non-functioning escalators to Passport Control. Ok I thought, just a few more minutes and we'll be on our way to Brooklyn - the buzz of a city that never sleeps was bound to make up for the drama of the trip.
As we approached the counters - all 4 of them, a morbidly obese, clearly uneducated and unkempt woman started yelling at the top of her voice for all US citizens to form lines behind three of the four counters that were open. Our long line of non- US citizens began to look at one another in bewilderment - so where are we supposed to go? The thought that they may be rounding us up to send us back to our respectives countries did cross my mind especially when I recalled the process I had to go through to receive 'security clearance' online for coming to the US. Gone are the days of being able to hop on a plane with a European passport and staying in the US for anything up to three months without having to justify one's trip. Fortunately before I started panicking about whether I'd have to go back to work if I was deported or just hang out at home for two weeks pretending to be watching a free concert in Prospect Park, our morbidly obese friend shouted for the aliens to join the line that was already dealing with disabled passengers first. Nice I thought, we're not only not good enough to have more than one immigration officer processing our passports, but we now have to share the one officer with people who we couldn't possibly take our anger out on even if the uncharitable thought had crossed our minds.
Coming from the land of the passive aggressives - English people would rather spontaneously combust with rage than speak out against something that is blatantly wrong...unless ofcourse it involves animals, most of the people in the Non-US citzen queue shuffled along. Instead of questioning this bizarre system some simply rolled their eyes in exasperation while the braver mumbled to their neighbours. According to a couple who said they travelled to the US all the time, New York's JFK was the worse airport you could fly into and although American customers left a lot to be desired, nothing reached the heights of the incompetence and lack of initiative displayed here.
Granted Americans are known for being inward looking and generally unconcerned about what the world thinks of them, especially as for many, there is no world outside of the US borders....well unless you count Canada and Mexico ofcourse. I get that but I don't get that you would display such a poor image of your country by giving people who first enter your country such a disgraceful experience.
As someone who works in PR, I would advise that they do away with the 'warm fuzzy' little video of Americans of all shades and hues saying 'Welcome' in the Passport Control hall and focus on better cutomer service. Americans or rather JFK officials need to acknowledges that sometimes your visitors can be your best advocates and the message that Coca Cola and the countless Hollywood exports fail to deliver may well be done by those of us who visit the country and enjoy their experience. You may even be able to sell the American dream message more effectively this way.

Den Haag - small yet perfectly formed

It's only the morning after but I think that I'm already in love with the Hague. It almost feels like a confession, considering I spent such a long time avoiding the place, turning my nose up at job opportunities and secretly pitying my friends who made the move here. Who'd have thought I'd fall for a place whose dull weather apparently trumps England, although that I have to see with my own eyes. It could be because we're in the middle of a glorious summer and the sun is out but somehow I think I would like it here even if it rained buckets.
Although I've been told by friends that the Dutch are abrupt and unfriendly- I'm keeping an open mind especially as yesterday I found a very helpful man at the airport as I was struggling with the machine that sells train tickets, he offered to help me without me even asking so I'm hoping his compatriots are going to be just like him. Besides I lived with the French for nearly 3 years so I think I can do abrupt and unfriendly...you could probably even throw in some hostility and I wouldn't flinch.
Now back to the beautiful Hague, I went for a jog in the park this morning and everywhere you walk there are canals and trams and people riding their bicycles. A lot of streets are not accessible to cars which is a bonus. It seems like a much healthier and greener way of living, although I'm no green warrior, I could happily go without a car if there were equally efficient alternatives which I don't believe there are in London. In the Hague, people tend to use bicycles and trams to get about, it ofcourse helps that everywhere is relatively close. 30 minutes on the train and you're in Amsterdam and the same amount of time on the tram takes you to Delft. Rotterdam is even closer, only 20 minutes by train which is regular and efficient. Southeastern trains could learn a thing or two from the Dutch.
What's even more endearing about the Hague is that the city centre is like a small chic residential area with cute little restaurants, delis, boutiques that sell unique pieces for a prices that do not make me want to cross the road. There are all sorts of odd little shops like a dog accessory store and one that sells bits for bicycles, makes sense. I came across a cute little shop that sells hand painted children's furniture, kenyan kikoyis and little objects reminiscent of East Africa. I was a bit dubious of the name though, '2 monkeys'.... the 'crazee' in me muttered something about the cheek of the owner...but the sane me thought what lovely wares. The flats seems spacious enough although I can't vouch for everyone's place but I guess even if you found yourself in a small one bedroom flat, the city is so pedestrian friendly that you wouldn't have to feel cooped up at home. It's also extremely child friendly with mini play areas everywhere.
I've also noticed how clean it is, I can't say I've spotted any litter at all on the ground and most importantly no dog poo in the park, even though everyone seems to have a dog and they all go for regular walks in the park. The Dutch are encouraged to clean up after themselves - so there are dog toilets.....well dog poo bins everywhere and by all accounts it works. Again the Brits and the French could learn a thing or two here.

Finally the clincher for me is that there are black people in the Hague. Now I know depending on your skin hue or your disposition, this may not be an issue for you but for me it is. I like being around people who look like me or atleast having them within a reasonable distance. Among other things, it minimises the need for others to stare at you in amazement which is always a bonus when going about your business. The first bunch I spotted were some young kids at the train station speaking Dutch no less, I was in awe truly. It's like hearing Black people open their mouths and a Welsh or Scottish accent comes out. It's just one of life's mysteries to people like me who obviously think that outside of Africa and the Caribbean, England and America should have a monopoly on Black folks. I'm curious to learn how on earth they came to live in Holland though and more importantly find out where the afro hair product stores are. Now where's that phrase book - how do you say 'Do you have any vacancies'?