I think I was seven, maybe eight when I first came to London. My dad took me and the twins on a long weekend, to the big city I had heard so much about for so long; our capital. Instead of being daunted by this great metropolis, like a small child should, I soaked it in and savoured every minute. I guess it was love a first sight. When I left I remember feeling so sad to leave the place and having to go back to the dullness of Warrington, but I told myself I would come back, and that one day I would live here. Fourteen years later I did. I'm not going to lie to you, it was hard at first. The pace of life, the hardness to get even simple things done, and the coldness of people after being brought up with the warmness of the people of the north. It didn't last long though, I soon came to love the pace of life and the energy of the city. The thing that I came to cherish the most was the acceptance. I never fitted in, in Warrington. I watched, read and liked the wrong things, to ever be like everyone else. Sometimes I was called weird, sometimes I was frustrated when I wanted to speak about things that people just didn't get and all I would recieve back was a blank expression; and sometimes I felt completely trapped by it all. London lets you be who ever you want to be. It's OK to be different, to wear what you want, to be as free as you want. This is why I love London, because it excepts you for who you are. It excepts me. For a long time I always use to say home was back in Warrington, but over the last couple of years I have started to say London is my home, because it truly is now.
I guess this was why I was so sad this last week, with what I saw happening to this city that I love. It was like the place lost it mind or the should I say some of the people did. I got caught up in riots in La Paz in Bolivia, running from water cannons and dynamite. I don't agree really with any form of rioting, but in La Paz there was a different feel to the riots. It felt like people were fighting for a reason, united in a strong cause. What I saw this week in London, was just mindless violence, that had no cause other than to wreck the lives and communities of the people they lived with. It made me a shamed to be British. There is something within this nation that feels the need to fight and be aggressive and this is the side of the British I hate. Luckily this is a small minority, but unfortunately this is what reflects of us on the rest of the world. When I travel I get very frustrated with the awful stereotypes that people have of the British.
"You don't seem very British!" people will say to me.
"Why what is a British person meant to be like?" is my response.
"Well you don't get drunk all the time (I know some readers might find this hard to believe), you don't start fights, you don't burn in the sun, your not a slag and you don't drink tea!"
Its ashame that people don't know about the good sides of the British; We are polite, we are hard workers, we can laugh at ourselves and the most important thing, you can knocks us down but we will always pick ourselves up again. This why I know that this country and this city I love will overcome this terrible week. London I still love you and always will.
All the photos in this post are by my old photographer housemate Guilherme Zauith from brazil, who actually got threatened and a bottle put to his throat by youths, while taking them. Check all the photos out at Demotix.http://www.demotix.com/photo/786826/riots
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