There comes a time in a girl's life when she has to face her problems, get out in the community, take responsibility. Today, I had to collect the car from the MOT place, TPS Autos, about two miles away. I could have taken a taxi, or the bus. I considered driving our spare car, parking it on a street outside of TPS and taking Nick up there later to collect it. I thought this might have been considered a bit lazy though. It was a sunny day, so in the event Darcy and I walked.
As we walked alongside the ring road through the sea of crisp packets breathing in the traffic fumes, I reflected on our plans to move out of Coventry in a few years time. I wondered how I might eventually feel about saying goodbye to these commonplace things about the city I came to twenty-two years ago. The route to TPS took us along a main road through the area of Foleshill. When first I saw it, I was impressed with its glamour. Here was a place where the women wore colours that were brighter, where almost everybody had a tan, and where the architecture was different in places.
In my i-player phase yesterday, I caught up with the excellent Stuart Lee's Comedy Vehicle. He was working on the theme of political correctness, and did it well, being both thought provoking and funny. Having had a career in social care, I'm extremely shy of attempting to address the topic of race. I'm woefully ill-equipped, liable to show my ignorance, and to unintentionally offend. I'm truly sorry. If you're reading on, please read for the intent, and I'll be doing what I can with the effect.
Foleshill feels different. Walk up the Foleshill Road past the big Halfords (which also impressed me as a nineteen year old), and you start to see lots of people whose parents, grand parents, great grandparents, and some of whom themselves came from India or Pakistan. Its an area that's cheap to live so lately there is a bit of an eastern European population too. This doesn't mean its a ghetto. The area used to be the centre for ribbon making and loads of proud Coventry Kids of English lines live there too.
What struck me first today, was that the recession seems not to have hit Foleshill Road. All of the shops were bustling, there weren't many vacant units. Since I was last there there are some shiny new businesses, and the established ones remain. This is in contrast to the centre of Coventry which is very closed down at the moment. We walked past a business where they do car washes by hand. It seems a big operation with several young men working shirts off in production line style cleaning the cars, the gaffer shouting across the forecourt. The spray from the hoses cooled the air on the pavement as I walked.
We slowed down at the Sikh temple. A former cinema, its a prominent building, its bus stop always busy. I was conscious that there were quite a few people , more women than men, who were anxious to avoid Darcy. This made me sad, because although he is only a dog, I love him, and he did sort of save my life. I want other people to love him too. Anyway, I kept his lead short and tried to make room for people. I was told a long time ago that Asian people don't like dogs. I have seen this to be true on occasion, but I don't know if it is because of culture, custom or religion. Its certainly not universal. Our neighbours are very ken to pet Darcy, although they won't touch his food because they are vegan Hindus, they told me this.
I was invited into that temple once. I had been doing a bus count for some student money and was lent a scarf and given dhal and bread on a tray, seated on the floor of a room of women who smiled but did not speak to me. It was a very happy place. One of the male elders spoke to me about how everyone brought something to contribute to the temple and that the food was shared free to anyone who came. The next day, to say thankyou, I brought a punnet of mushrooms and was shown how to offer them. It was a good experience. I thought of the kindness of the people from the temple following the 9/11 tragedy when it was reported that the building had been attacked.
We went on then, past the sari shops, the grocers selling net sacks of onions and thought of my neighbour who taught me what the stranger ingredients were and how they could be cooked. One time, I had to make roti for forty for Diwali. She took pity on me when it became clear that, in spite of her patient instruction, this might take me as many days, and made them for me. Tahim's Drapers is still there. They still sell fabric by the yard. Pure silk chiffon that might be £20 a metre in John Lewis' is £5. The sewer in me loves to visit. I don't know why I'm the only white woman I've ever seen there, I've always felt like any other customer.
I was thinking of all of these things, and other times I've hit good moments and sticky patches with people who have a different skin colour, a different religion. I thought of Nick's dad at our last visit reading an article about the Councillers for Cornwall County Council. "They're all foreigners", he said. Nick and I looked up a bit shocked. Would we challenge it. "This one comes from Bedfordshire". We laughed, it wasn't racism, just xenophobia, like from the Gavin and Stacey programme I'm fond of. I found myself at Longford Park. I had taken a wrong turn and had walked two miles out of my way.
Cursing, I caught a bus back along the way we came. The bus driver, white, my age, Coventry accent said, "One pound fifty. Its fifty p for the dog" I put my £1.50 in the tray. He raised his eyebrows and repeated. Did he mean two pounds then?, "Sorry", I said, "How much all together?" He sighed and repeated himself for the third time. I put an extra 50p in the tray. Getting off, I stood up and we made eye contact. He slowed the bus to the stop. As the doors opened he said, "If I hadn't have seen you, I wouldn't have stopped" Well, he had seen me, we both knew that, otherwise I might have found the bell. Did he expect a blow job for his pains? I said thanks and stepped away.
So there it was, a mini adventure in Coventry. Go outside your own front door, and whoever you meet, its like another country.
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