The guy who brought my shopping today on behalf of a huge multi-national grocery company told me he was looking for a new job. His complaint is with management: they take in drivers, don't train them properly and let them loose on the roads with vans full of food and drink. I agreed that's pretty poor. But then he morphed into the company employing 'illegals' as drivers, not to mention young guys who have very little experience on the road. I pointed out there are no illegals employed in the UK. If you're an asylum-seeker, you get a fiver a day to live on and you're not allowed to work until your application for asylum is successful or you get deported. If you're an illegal immigrant and show up on the radar, you're deported at once. He looked at me as if I was mad.
About 20 years ago, when I worked in Strathclyde Region (then the biggest local authority in Europe), I was asked to accompany a group of 100 young musicians to France to take part in the festival of St Cecilia. There were a few challenges. I was one of just two adults in the group who spoke French. We had a few problems with that and I spent a lot of time fire-fighting: taking kids to the local police station because they had lost their cameras or glasses; helping them to exchange their travellers' checks (why had anyone told them to bring them?); looking after a talented Hong Kong violinist who had picked up a virus on her way to Scotland; explaining to host families that the 15 year olds in the orchestra wanted to be out on the streets for the festival late at night. Apart from the teachers who had been to Glasgow University, no one had any idea what the festival was about and no plans had been made to make sure the young people could enjoy the street festival safely as well as playing in several small towns beforehand. Oh, and we had a lassie with us with ME and no one had been told. And there were politicians with us - what a joy they turned out to be. And to add to my alarm, the main organiser wandered around carrying a handbag with - she told me - 10,000 Euros 'for emergencies.'
But best of all were the drivers, who had never driven outside the UK but made their way successfully from Glasgow to Toulouse carrying all the big instruments the musicians would need. I'd asked that someone tell them to contact me when they arrived so I could make sure they got settled okay. In the end, the concierge of our hotel called me and said there was a problem in the hotel restaurant.
The guys were an absolute joy. Real Glaswegians, luckily with a sense of humour - and adventure - and delighted to see someone who spoke their language. They explained they were 'Hank Marvin' but the waiter wouldn't bring them what they wanted. Have you guessed it already? They had asked for steak tartare, the only thing on the menu they recognised, and the waiter had tried to assure them that definitely wasn't what they wanted. But they spoke no French and he spoke no English. I told the waiter they wanted a steak 'très, très bien cuit. Sans sang.' Avec des frites. Et des bières. We had a wee discussion, the waiter and I. At one point he corrected my pronunciation. I asked if he wanted me to speak to the chef myself or if he thought he would manage to convey what these customers - who would be eating there for the next 7 days - actually wanted. I explained the problem to the drivers. I ordered a carafe of rouge. For me. And I sat there enjoying my wine till the drivers got what they wanted.
Being part of the rest of the world is testing. The Brits are not very good at it. Some people in the UK seem to have a sense of entitlement: we've had the 'biggest empire in the world' so we're special. Today I've seen Scotland dismissed as being 'only' 5 million people and Belgium dismissed as 'only' having 11 million. Is that what the world is about? Not democracy, equality, freedom, but raw numbers?
It would help if people had the correct information but I'm not sure how we make sure that happens.
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