When you live in a large city you take most it for granted, the excessive traffic, the crowded streets. You accept as the norm, the constant snarl up of the inadequate transport system; the days when you have to battle for a space on the tube trains; the times when tired of coming home to streets covered rubbish, you once again threaten to leave. And of course, later you calm down and decide things are not so bad after all, and once again decide that you still love the place, in spite of its numerous faults.
Let me declare myself. I am talking about my city, London town. After twenty five years of living here, it is the only place that I could live in the UK. That does not mean that there aren't moments when I want out of this city. Of course, there are, and more frequent than I would like to admit. When these times happen, I simply head for the continent. The French Riviera, the Spanish Costa del Sol and the villas of Italy, all take on a new urgency. A quick budget flight, a longer train journey, and soon you are away; of course till you are back again. Unusually, it is always easier coming back. There is always an urgency, which supports a kind of expectation to hurry back just in case something has changed. And then you arrive to find that most things are same.
About four weeks ago, something changed. The bombs came. I remember when I heard the first radio news flash. I did not seem very urgent, or even important. The tone and the voice of the radio announcer seemed normal. Later, when the severity of incidents became well known, I decided that that first impression was due to the authorities managing the information. It took almost four to five hours for the public to be formally told of the implications of the four incidents which claimed the lives of fifty-six people.
How did this bombing impact the lives of people in this large city. Almost immediately there was decline in people entering downtown London. I suppose this means that the workers came anyway, but those who did not need to, did not bother. Wherever you were, there was still a sense of camaraderie among local people; but there was also a new sense of anxiety, and suspicion, and of course, fear. Since suicide bombers were responsible for for the deaths, anybody fitting that stereotypical image began courting trouble. Yet, most people continued to make journeys, although they appear to be a little more selective about the route they take. My experience of the new security emphasis, was demonstated while travelling on the underground, and was kept waiting for more than half an hour at one station stop. Later, we all had to change our route because one of our intended stations stops, was closed. This kind of action within the transport system became quite prevalent after the bombing. Closure of underground stations became a regular occurence, much to the annoyance of commuters. Often, passengers were forced to change route to get to their destinations.
Yet the geatest reaction to the bombing seem to come from the media. They were the ones who with pictures, stories, commentaries, disclosures, and their in depth presentation, articulated the horror of it all. In the weeks following the bombing, there was massive increase in the sale of newspapers, which suggest that people continued to dissipate their grief by consuming more and more of the topic. How long this will continue? It is difficult to say. It will probably be until all criminal activity is distant, and the courts have dealt with the alleged conspirators.
It is five weeks since the bombs. At a street level, things are somewhat, near normal. People are getting on with their lives, in spite of any private fear, or anxiety. The overt police presence still reminds us that security remains a major concern to us all. And that we should forever be on guard. The police and the courts are still engrossed in preparation for trials. But at a personal level, life continues.
Let me declare myself. I am talking about my city, London town. After twenty five years of living here, it is the only place that I could live in the UK. That does not mean that there aren't moments when I want out of this city. Of course, there are, and more frequent than I would like to admit. When these times happen, I simply head for the continent. The French Riviera, the Spanish Costa del Sol and the villas of Italy, all take on a new urgency. A quick budget flight, a longer train journey, and soon you are away; of course till you are back again. Unusually, it is always easier coming back. There is always an urgency, which supports a kind of expectation to hurry back just in case something has changed. And then you arrive to find that most things are same.
About four weeks ago, something changed. The bombs came. I remember when I heard the first radio news flash. I did not seem very urgent, or even important. The tone and the voice of the radio announcer seemed normal. Later, when the severity of incidents became well known, I decided that that first impression was due to the authorities managing the information. It took almost four to five hours for the public to be formally told of the implications of the four incidents which claimed the lives of fifty-six people.
How did this bombing impact the lives of people in this large city. Almost immediately there was decline in people entering downtown London. I suppose this means that the workers came anyway, but those who did not need to, did not bother. Wherever you were, there was still a sense of camaraderie among local people; but there was also a new sense of anxiety, and suspicion, and of course, fear. Since suicide bombers were responsible for for the deaths, anybody fitting that stereotypical image began courting trouble. Yet, most people continued to make journeys, although they appear to be a little more selective about the route they take. My experience of the new security emphasis, was demonstated while travelling on the underground, and was kept waiting for more than half an hour at one station stop. Later, we all had to change our route because one of our intended stations stops, was closed. This kind of action within the transport system became quite prevalent after the bombing. Closure of underground stations became a regular occurence, much to the annoyance of commuters. Often, passengers were forced to change route to get to their destinations.
Yet the geatest reaction to the bombing seem to come from the media. They were the ones who with pictures, stories, commentaries, disclosures, and their in depth presentation, articulated the horror of it all. In the weeks following the bombing, there was massive increase in the sale of newspapers, which suggest that people continued to dissipate their grief by consuming more and more of the topic. How long this will continue? It is difficult to say. It will probably be until all criminal activity is distant, and the courts have dealt with the alleged conspirators.
It is five weeks since the bombs. At a street level, things are somewhat, near normal. People are getting on with their lives, in spite of any private fear, or anxiety. The overt police presence still reminds us that security remains a major concern to us all. And that we should forever be on guard. The police and the courts are still engrossed in preparation for trials. But at a personal level, life continues.
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