girl's talk

Last night, a good friend came over from the village he lives in to spend a weekend in the big city. Excitement and diversion were on his mind. After meeting at the train station, we went for dinner at a Polish place. I had the best German meal outside of Germany and was struck by how culturally similar Poland and Germany are. Why do the two countries have such a hard time existing next to each other? It seems there is news of some sort of disagreement every other week, viciously played out in the media with mutual accusations and abuse. To me it always seem as if the Poles have gone postal and try desperately and ultimately futilely to punch above their weight. This assessment might be due to my German arrogance, and I don't put much credence to it. Most Poles I've met are nice, and the food tastes just like at home.

After dinner we went for a beer to one of the few pubs around the Green. Shepherd's Bush is a quiet neighborhood, dominated by ethnicities that eschew public drink and merriment. This shows in the kind of businesses that operate along the main roads. Most restaurants are halal and serve no beer. Grocery stores sell olives, dates and malt beverages. Only the convenience stores are full of alcoholic beverages. It's apparently ok to drink at home.

Shepherd's Bush is not Saudi Arabia or some other close-minded hell. Like all parts of London, every kind of person will find happiness. Some just have to look a little harder in some places. We had to look for the pub, but once inside all was good. The beer was cheap, the room smoke-free and the music joyful. Not having seen each other in more than half a year, we uncertainly started to poke into each other's private lives. With every glass we had, the questions became easier and the answers franker. When the bell rang last orders, we were in deep conversation about culture, the future, and how mistakes in the past are still haunting us, a conversation we kept during our walk home a little bit later. We had a lot to talk about.

The transition to my apartment was smooth. With green tea and Scotch whiskey on my coffee table and Dylan on the stereo, the mood was never broken. The conversation could only head in one direction. Girls were on our minds. Both of us have been badly burned in the past. My friend's reaction has been curious. When I knew him years ago, he was as international as anyone, covering the globe with his relationships. His home country was the last thing on his mind and he never tired of denouncing its flaws.

Now he has been in a series of romantic encounters with ladies from his own background. He manages to find them against the odds, after looking hard. He admitted that he finds talking to them very satisfying initially because the mutual understanding is almost intuitive. He's got a point. Nevertheless, I'm in great doubt about his approach and mildly shocked by the reversal of his preferences.

Were I to meet an East German girl, there would be a quick and natural rapport based on a shared past behind the Iron curtain, a history of deprivation that never felt like it, and unfounded but irrepressible nostalgia. Hours could be filled reliving the times gone by. But how could this be enough? Relationships must be about the future. A shared past can get you off a quick start, but so can a drunk night at a party or an introduction by a friend. In order to develop a deeper understanding, you need shared interests and a shared outlook, and these are entirely independent of your cultural background, as long as you keep an open mind and are willing to embrace the unknown and learn.

My friend seemed to agree with my objections – at least he looked very content, sitting in a comfy chair eating Malagasy chocolate – but he wasn't convinced. What has been driving him, subliminally as he admitted a bit later, was the question of marriage and the practical considerations around it. The convenience of having both families close by cannot be overestimated. I concur – and yet insist on my own approach of meeting anyone, from anywhere. The perfect girl might live half a world away. How could distance stand in the way of my happiness just because the flights to the in-laws are too expensive?

Out of whiskey and precariously low on chocolate, we suspended the discussion and retired for the night. My friend's goal for the weekend is to visits as many bars as possible. We shall have plenty of time to continue our debate besides, as was the plan in the first place, finding excitement and diversion.