15th September. Muse by the Indian Ocean

Like listening to an Andrew Lloyd Webber musical or a piece by John Rutter or even a song by Steps, it is odd how you find yourself enjoying them or parts of them, but secretly. I'm sitting on a sunbed that Rel reserved for me earlier this morning; the sunbed is under a palm tree. It is a truly lovely view - the sunbed is on a sun terrace overlooking the richly turquoise, boat-punctuated waters of the Indian Ocean. I am happy to admit that there is little secret about me enjoying this. I am however staying in a hotel that has challenged my deep-rooted prejudices of our British social constructs. Of course, all societies have their constructs: here, according to Rel, the interaction of individual tribes is still full of tension and prejudice - a construct, conveniently forgetting our own society, that we might find silly.

Spending time is this perfectly appointed hotel has given me cause to think a bit about my own thoughts, and the way my brain constructs society. The hotel is a temporary home for a range of people: from almost-twenty-first-time-holiday-together couples, to late 30s to mid 50s groups of organized 'sun holiday' types, to elderly couples and their friends. Most of these people seem to spend their holiday getting up as early as they can to reserve sunbeds with towels, having a large 'English' breakfast, starting on the beer (or vodka and sprite as I heard one lady ordering) by 10 a.m., a three-course lunch, maybe some pool volleyball with more sun and alcohol, followed by a three-course dinner, and then the faux-tribal entertainment and English-style disco provided by the hotel. I did catch myself wondering why these people had travelled so far for something they could get a lot cheaper and a lot closer to home in Tenereife... Oh yes, look he's shown his colours now - watch that society prejudice in action - watch it fell the trees of acceptability like a magic sword...

But there is an affinity; I am enjoying myself too. The view is fabulous and I enjoy being with Claire and Rel. Rel and Claire are sitting here too; Rel is reading War and Peace, and Claire is reading about the Devil and Prada (quite similar subject matters if you ask me). Presumably the people who are practising being English in a distant foreign country, the ones whom my socially constructed prejudice is looking down upon, are enjoying the views and enjoying being with others too. We're not so very different after all, except that just like with world religions, the smallest differences are the ones that create the biggest gaps. They (because the only collective noun I could think of was a 'trailer of Chavs') are no doubt more than slightly amused to see this not-quite-slim, bleached-white Englishman, who sounds a bit posh, doesn't join in with the organized games or the (faux)tribal dancing, is on holiday sharing a room with two girls (the source of many quizzical looks), and is sitting wearing shorts and a t-shirt on a sunbed in the shade whilst nursing his sunburn. It does sound ridiculous doesn't it? When I think about it, there is probably much more for them to giggle at - especially now as I'm surrounded by slim, attractive, brown, and defined bodies. But maybe it's ok - maybe they won't notice me - I'm sitting in my not-really-invisible, orange t-shirt, and desperately trying to keep hold of piles of papers that are preparing me for an editing course next week... But no matter how slight differences may be, I shall still be amused later whilst sitting by the sea with a glass of port, to hear the entertainment presenter come on to the stage a way behind me and say hello in Swahili: 'Jambo' (o as in box). This will be followed by a lilac scream of ladies replying 'Jairmboowww'.

Prejudice, what prejudice?

I'm off for a swim.


JL