A Drunken London is a Beautiful London
As the night falls on another Saturday night, the British metropolis was by all means ready for another night of inebriated euphoria. Just give the crowd an excuse to gather, and gather, they certainly did. Perhaps when Guy Fawkes got caught more than four centuries ago on the night of November 5th, 1605, he (or those loyalists who celebrated the foiling of the attempt on the life of King James I and the parliamentarians) could have imagined the event's annual celebration becoming a sheer mayhem of singing, burning colors, and of course, tons and tons of alcohol.
And when the celebrations happen to fall on a weekend (as is the case this year), the energy and turnout just becomes unstoppable. In just one instance, despite its rather dubious reputation for being an East London neighborhood, the normally quiet bedroom community of Bethnal Green still received a horde of hundreds from across London to see a 15-min firework show in the local park. It is hard to imagine what the residents (if they are there) would have thought as an army screaming to the display of lights in the sky marched through the narrow streets.
Napoleon once said that an army marches on its stomach. Well, for the army at Bethnal Green last night, the contents of the collective stomach was no doubt an endless supply of alcohol. The drinking pub crowd in front of the tube station blocked the station entrance, and the cashiers at the community off-license alcohol shops had a stressful night dealing with massive crowds that snaked through their tiny shops and out the door. Hundreds of beer cans chugged and chucked as the crowd surged forward, leaving behind a trail and sure sign of a "good time."
As the fireworks drew to a close amid the drunken outcry of the beer-toting mob, the real party got under way. As the crowd (absolutely oblivious of the danger) continued to fire off their own personal stocks of firework rockets into the air from within the dense crowds and out the windows of random buildings, the army gushed out of the community park and back into the stores and pubs of the neighborhood. shrills of joy mixed with ground-thumping music coming from all directions, sealing the whole area off to traffic with an impromptu human shield.
Every bar, club, some guy's apartment (...basically anywhere with a stock of alcohol) were packed. People danced, laughed to not so funny jokes and random situations, and talked about matters in ways completely inappropriate in any other situation. People start to realize that they cannot walk down a street without dancing, and cannot utter a single sentence without sprinkling it with some cheerful infusion of the f-word and any other vulgarity. People of all ages and all backgrounds came together. No one cared who they are and who were there.
As I witnessed all this firsthand, I, in my "slightly" tipsy mind, finally saw London at her most beautiful stage. "Diversity," a word long used as a praise for the international metropolis and a cause for all sorts of conflicts from riots to train bombings, finally stopped, if only temporarily, being an obstacle for unity. Dowsed with excess drinks, the residents of the city and the country as a whole found unity and common language in alcohol. All differences were then a source of good-natured fun, not tension.
Surely enough, we laughed and laughed to a Scotsman and an Englishman debating the issue of Scottish independence from the UK. A source of political upheaval, just as the sounds of fireworks still ringing outside, disappeared into the thin air with a joyous cheer. It was just one instance among thousands in the country pushing on the happiness of inebriation. I cannot think of a better tribute to celebrating the Guy Fawkes night, a legacy of political division among the British elites and their less fortunate (and in the modern context, more "foreign" immigrant-originated) constituents.
Of course, as anyone would say, drinking too much is definitely not good for the body or the wallet. But with a first-person experience of London as "one," not just an empty symbol of "diverse/international/global," is worth all the trouble. A city infused with energy of alcohol is by all means a friendly accepting place. Reality of social division is harsh, but drunkenness is the commonly opened door for escaping that reality. And with free healthcare dealing with any bad after-effects, why not experience all that firsthand?
And when the celebrations happen to fall on a weekend (as is the case this year), the energy and turnout just becomes unstoppable. In just one instance, despite its rather dubious reputation for being an East London neighborhood, the normally quiet bedroom community of Bethnal Green still received a horde of hundreds from across London to see a 15-min firework show in the local park. It is hard to imagine what the residents (if they are there) would have thought as an army screaming to the display of lights in the sky marched through the narrow streets.
Napoleon once said that an army marches on its stomach. Well, for the army at Bethnal Green last night, the contents of the collective stomach was no doubt an endless supply of alcohol. The drinking pub crowd in front of the tube station blocked the station entrance, and the cashiers at the community off-license alcohol shops had a stressful night dealing with massive crowds that snaked through their tiny shops and out the door. Hundreds of beer cans chugged and chucked as the crowd surged forward, leaving behind a trail and sure sign of a "good time."
As the fireworks drew to a close amid the drunken outcry of the beer-toting mob, the real party got under way. As the crowd (absolutely oblivious of the danger) continued to fire off their own personal stocks of firework rockets into the air from within the dense crowds and out the windows of random buildings, the army gushed out of the community park and back into the stores and pubs of the neighborhood. shrills of joy mixed with ground-thumping music coming from all directions, sealing the whole area off to traffic with an impromptu human shield.
Every bar, club, some guy's apartment (...basically anywhere with a stock of alcohol) were packed. People danced, laughed to not so funny jokes and random situations, and talked about matters in ways completely inappropriate in any other situation. People start to realize that they cannot walk down a street without dancing, and cannot utter a single sentence without sprinkling it with some cheerful infusion of the f-word and any other vulgarity. People of all ages and all backgrounds came together. No one cared who they are and who were there.
As I witnessed all this firsthand, I, in my "slightly" tipsy mind, finally saw London at her most beautiful stage. "Diversity," a word long used as a praise for the international metropolis and a cause for all sorts of conflicts from riots to train bombings, finally stopped, if only temporarily, being an obstacle for unity. Dowsed with excess drinks, the residents of the city and the country as a whole found unity and common language in alcohol. All differences were then a source of good-natured fun, not tension.
Surely enough, we laughed and laughed to a Scotsman and an Englishman debating the issue of Scottish independence from the UK. A source of political upheaval, just as the sounds of fireworks still ringing outside, disappeared into the thin air with a joyous cheer. It was just one instance among thousands in the country pushing on the happiness of inebriation. I cannot think of a better tribute to celebrating the Guy Fawkes night, a legacy of political division among the British elites and their less fortunate (and in the modern context, more "foreign" immigrant-originated) constituents.
Of course, as anyone would say, drinking too much is definitely not good for the body or the wallet. But with a first-person experience of London as "one," not just an empty symbol of "diverse/international/global," is worth all the trouble. A city infused with energy of alcohol is by all means a friendly accepting place. Reality of social division is harsh, but drunkenness is the commonly opened door for escaping that reality. And with free healthcare dealing with any bad after-effects, why not experience all that firsthand?
Great stuff! Just read this, and now I'm pissed that I didn't go out that night! London, and especially the countless and myriad of excuses made for celebrating in her neighborhoods, is really starting to be missed...
ReplyDeleteDude, I dont even remember which night this was...
ReplyDelete