Tag Archives: UK

Voltage matters

Posted by expatlingo in expat life and tagged with , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

220 vs. 110 voltage. Thanks to this critical difference and our own inattention/ineptitude, our expat wake is littered with electrical items.

Map from: http://stjarnhimlen.se/tv/tv.html

We originally moved from “110 voltage” USA to “220 voltage” China. This voltage difference paired with highly adaptable Chinese wall sockets–which accept all kinds of plugs–meant that we fried a stereo, baby monitor, and blender in Zhuhai. (Heavy, scary looking, voltage converters only work when used…)

Common Chinese wall outlet. Lethal for US 110V items. (Courtesy of wikipedia: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/AC_power_plugs_and_sockets)

On our next move, we were saved by the wall outlets in the UK, which in their girth and seriousness could never be accidentally confused with relatively dainty American outlets/plugs. Frankly, the size of the UK plug makes me feel like I’m bringing Frankenstein to life every time I plug in the coffee maker.

US and UK style plugs

Needing this and that while in England, we’ve ended up with plenty of massive UK-plug-style items. For awhile we were at least careful to not buy any appliances that didn’t switch from 110 to 220 and visa versa on their own (most computer-type things do), but then life moved on and we just bought what we needed when we needed it. So now we own a 220 voltage toaster, electric kettle, coffee maker, hair dryer, and bread maker.

Thankfully, all this UK stuff works seamlessly here in Hong Kong, where the sun hasn’t set on the British Empire’s colonial electrical legacy.

While simple plug design differences are easily surmounted with wall adapters, voltage differences will remain a headache into the distant future. One day when we move back to 110 voltage land, we’ll have to buy another big voltage converter that goes the other way, 110 to 220.

Right now, I’m happy we’ve made it three years without frying any of our remaining 110 voltage items. So, for now, good luck: American Kitchen Aid mixer, food processor and drill. May we always remember pull out the voltage converter to use you. Please let us not plug you into the 220V outlet on the back of our voltage converter in a state of haste or drunkenness. (You can see how easy it would be to do…)

Our beloved voltage converter.

Goodbye England: 10 quirky things that I love about you

Posted by expatlingo in Britain and tagged with , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Three years in Cambridge are at an end and we’re soon back to China’s Pearl River Delta. To celebrate this milestone, I’ve pulled together a list of 10 endearing English oddities.

Warts and all, I love that the English:

1. Are happy to watch “Lambing Live.” Several Aprils ago I stumbled upon a broadcast of a lamb being born. Jolly English commentators stood by in wellie boots chatting with a farmer. Odd, but I was even more astounded to see that the program was live and was broadcast for two hours during prime time every weeknight for a full week. They must have spent a lot of time waiting and chatting about which ewes were showing signs of imminent labor. Did I mention this was on BBC Two, a major channel, not just something way up the cable dial?

Sharing a "cuppa" with a robber in "Mog the Forgetful Cat."

2. Teach their young the importance of a good cup of tea through children’s literature. For example, the classic, “Mog the Forgetful Cat” features a scene with a robber, who has just been caught stealing the silver, sharing a cup of tea with the victimized family, still in their nightclothes. Every visitor, even burglars, must be offered a proper cup of tea!

For more on tea, see also the following classics: “The Tiger Who Came to Tea,” “Mr Gumpy’s Outing“, “Meg and Mog” (several), “Winnie the Pooh”  ”The Green Ship“, etc., etc.

3. Feel very separate from “Europe.” As an American, I’d previously made the mistake of lumping Britain together with “Europe.” I’ve since learned that they view themselves as quite separate from Europe. You know, because they’re on this island way over here across the English Channel.

Downton Abbey

4. Are taken far too seriously by Americans simply because of their accents. I missed Downton Abbey on ITV in England and am playing catch-up via my American iTunes account. This means that each episode is packaged for an American audience by PBS’s “Masterpiece Classics.” The packaging is complete with lofty soundtrack, flipping book pages, and a serious announcement that this is a presentation of “Masterpiece Classics.” The audience is being told that it is about to watch something refined, high-brown, and artistic. Fancy period clothes, English accents and an “upstairs-downstairs” storyline means the American audience must be sufficiently impressed and in awe.

Too bad ITV is not BBC Four and Downton Abbey is essentially a soap opera in period costume with posh English accents. It’s good TV, but it’s not fancy. Naysayers, come on, the second season even had an “amnesia” storyline.

5. Must be very good at budgeting. When I look at prices in pounds and consider them 1:1 as dollars, then prices seem reasonable. Twelve for a paperback book, three for a latte, ten for a plate of pasta. Then I do the math and realize that it is really the equivalent of eighteen dollars, five dollars and fifteen dollars. Plus 20% VAT. My hats off to you for making ends meet.

English fondness for patterns: "Cath Kidston" bowl and bag with "Laura Seaby" tea towel.

6. Have a special fondness for patterns. Patterns on curtains, patterns on throw pillows, patterns on bags, patterns on wallpaper, patterns on tablecloths, patterns on sofas. I was stared at with shock when I said I hadn’t heard of “Cath Kidston,” the famous pattern designer.

7. Love privacy. Every house has a hedge, fence, or some other “screen” in front of it. Privacy is paramount. In America, unless you have a dog or live on a very busy street, putting up a fence in your front yard is viewed as a bit unfriendly. But it’s really the thing to do in England, with a hedge being preferable.

8. Live with contradictions, including serious invasions of privacy. They love privacy and yet CCTV cameras are everywhere. See for example, this strung together set of CCTV clips following a very, very drunk man on his walk home from the bar.

9. Think America = NYC + Orlando. Being from the West Coast of America, I’d never actually viewed the States at such an odd and narrow angle before. I’ve also heard radio commentators refer to American cities as generally “grim” on several occasions. So perhaps America is NYC, Orlando, Detroit and small bits of LA? Oh, and they will also occasionally talk about the South, mainly for the opportunity to poke fun at Southerners. See for example this Top Gear Special or Jamie’s Food Revolution. England, may I introduce you to Seattle, Portland and other great gorgeous swaths of the American West.

10. Like the BBC to guide their day. BBC Radio Four’s “Women’s Hour” starts at 10 am: time for ironing. Ceebebies (BBC for the under 8s) goes off air at 7 pm: children’s bedtime. The credits just rolled on EastEnders (serial drama): time to “put the kettle on.” The National Grid actually has to make special plans for the huge spike in electricity demand at precisely this time: “No other country in the world switches on so many kettles at the same time.” You can see a clip of the National Grid meeting this EastEnders-electricity-demand-spike here.

England: you will be missed! Thank god that, even in Hong Kong, I’ll still be able to ponder the strangeness of Marks and Spencer which simultaneously sells some of the poshest food and dowdiest clothes.

Being an expat has taught me that Americans…

Posted by expatlingo in expat life and tagged with , , , , , , , , , , ,

1. Have a serious sweet tooth. This weekend a 5-year-old English girl looked down on me with distain when I suggested that she eat pancakes with syrup for breakfast: For God’s sake, doesn’t this woman know that pancakes are only eaten as a special treat before Lent on Shrove Tuesday?

Below is a shop window in Cambridge fishing for that American sweet tooth with imported goods. Please note the jars of marshmallow fluff; only folks with a serious sugar problem could have dreamt that up.

American sweets in Cambridge shop window.

2. Rightly favor solid deodorant sticks. Apparently many people in the world favor spray or roll-on deodorant. I say: Who wants to inhale tiny bits of deodorant every morning or have a slimy feeling under their arms? I hoard stick deodorant every trip to the US.

3. Are followed by the Tax Man the world over. All these lovely European expats I meet have no need to file taxes when working, living and earning overseas. Not so for Americans, we must file no matter what. And yes there are general US tax exemptions for folks living abroad and tax treaties avoid “double-taxation,” but figuring out how to correctly file US taxes overseas is an on-going nightmare of expat life. Yet another reason that, in addition to their health care, Europeans can be pleased with themselves. Smug bastards.

4. Should use “gas and air” in child birth. The childbirth books I bought in American made no mention of “gas and air” (basically nitrous oxide, i.e. laughing gas). I was introduced to it at hospitals in Hong Kong and again in the UK during the births of my children. Really takes the edge off. God knows why Americans only seem to use it for dentistry.

5. Are hassled more for visas. In fairness, a lot of this is reciprocity: you made it a pain for our citizens to come to you and we’ll make it a pain for your citizens to come to us. Within Britain we’re pariahs (residence) visa-wise: “Sorry you’re not Polish (i.e. from the EU)? Get in the long line with everyone else while we look you over skeptically.” And China makes it more difficult for Americans (than Europeans) because they want to and they can. No quick “visa at the border” for us.

6. Do have nice teeth. I had to beg a dentist in Macau to clean my teeth while I was pregnant. She suddered at the thought of cleaning a pregnant woman’s teeth and finally (after much prodding) found another dentist in the practice who was “willing to do it.” My dentist here in the UK takes a quick look, says they’re lovely and tells me to come back in 18 months. In America, it’s an every 6 months kind-of-thing with a professional cleaning every time. So, yes, with all this comparative attention, our teeth do tend to be nice.

7. Should be proud of Starbuck’s. I was once the cool kid who decided that Starbucks was corporate crap. No more. I crossed borders (often) in China for decent coffee. In the UK it’s also where we buy our beans. Yes it’s a global chain that’s everywhere and very generic. But now you can buy good coffee everywhere. (Including in local independent coffee shops that do very well drafting off of the coffee-love that Starbucks has fostered.)

8. Are “chipper” and “over-friendly.” Six years ago, a German friend told me quite bluntly that Americans are too happy and fake. After enough time away, I now see exactly what she means. While listening to streaming NPR (American “National Public Radio”), even I find the pertness a little hard to take.


English Panto and the American Prude

Posted by expatlingo in America, Britain, spotted and tagged with , , , , , , , , , , ,

Flyer for 2010 Cambridge Arts Theatre Panto

I got myself out of Utah, but it takes awhile to get the Utah out of the girl. It was a revelation to watch “Priscilla Queen of the Desert” in 1994 and realize that homosexuals, cross-dressers, and transvestites were just regular people “like the rest of us.” The heavy weight of being raised in a prudish place lifted.

Even so, I was still slightly shocked (and delighted!) to watch English pantomime the first time.

In a theater full of organized school groups, a man dressed as a woman performed lead in a show chock-full of sexual innuendo. I get gleeful just thinking about the shocked(!) letters to the editor and funding cuts that would have resulted in Utah (or much of red state America).

Panto takes a well-known, simple story and fleshes it out with a tremendous amount of singing, dancing, audience-call-back, slap-stick and costume changes. It’s good family fun without being sickeningly cute (the naughty winks to the grown-ups help a lot). Every town with a theater has a yearly panto show (I’m sure they’re a dependable annual influx of cash).

Panto is rather racy to American eyes. During one production, the author was (pleasantly) jolted from a second-act snooze by the sight of a man in a dress and Union Jack boxer-shorts give a full-moon to a jolly audience full of 10-year-olds.

Here in England, the only thing controversial about panto seems to be the frequent use of Royal Family members’ names for the evil step-sisters in Cinderella (this year the obvious choice was “Beatrice and Eugenie”). Men can wear all the frocks they’d like, but for God’s sake don’t offend the Royalists.

Hats off to Brad Fitt: a great “dame” who will be known forever in the author’s family as the “strawberry lady.” Thank you Cambridge Arts Theatre.

Corruption: one man’s Cambridge fiefdom

Posted by expatlingo in Britain, lingo, spotted and tagged with , ,

“That which you call corruption I call influence.” – John Mortlock

Calling all far-flung expats bemoaning local corruption and bureaucracy, I give you John Mortlock, “Master of the Town of Cambridge.”  Local amateur historian, C. Hadley, fleshes out the following details:

“He served as mayor 13 times over the next twenty years, alternating in the post with his sons and business partners. During this period he ran the city as a private fiefdom, selling off city property (and some property that wasn’t strictly his to sell) to friends at knock-down prices, and diverting taxes and city funds into his own pockets and those of his cronies. The amazing thing is that he made no secret of it, using city money to buy the influence that made him mayor, again and again. A banker and a politician called Mortlock – you could just tell he’d turn out to be a baddie. The only positive side of the story is that the freeholds of several premises were sold to cronies on extraordinarily long leases, which has in some cases prevented their subsequent redevelopment, preserving buildings which would otherwise have long since been bulldozed.”

Short-timer

Posted by expatlingo in Britain, lingo and tagged with , ,

As a current short-timer, I am counting the weeks until departure from England. Beginning to peel away from a few stale friendships while also already missing some dear ones. Knowing the hardness of leaving a peculiar, unrepeatable location and time forever, self-preservation directs one to exaggerate every bad aspect of a lovely place in the last months and weeks. This leads to fixations on:

Poor local manners. English reserve is not a virtue. Smiling (or even nodding) at your neighbor of three years will not kill you.

High taxes. When grown men buy sweaters/jumpers in the boys’ department to save on VAT there is a problem.

Bad weather. Cold, drafty, damp. Inept attempts at clearing paths of snow (Heard of a snow-shovel? Pouring boiling water from your kettle on the path will just turn to black ice).

Bad driving. Damn “white van man.’