… isn’t what it sounds like.
Last night we went into London to meet old friends from university days. It was the thirtieth anniversray of my graduation and a few of us from the University of Bradford Modern Languages department got together for a curry. We got plates and forks and serviettes – which is totally different from what we used to get in the great Bradford curry houses of our youth. But, then again, we are older and more sophisticated now…
What was surprising was how everyone was still recognisable after all these years. Voices and mannerisms are the same. Haircuts have changed – or, in my case, disappeared. But it was funny to realise that the people I thought were über-confident at university were actually wracked with the same insecurities as me. People I thought were the life and soul of the student party also experienced loneliness and all the other stuff that makes us human.
What was really nice, though, was coming away thinking what nice and interesting people they are and how the evening was simply too short to catch up on thirty years.
What was funny was the reminiscences and memories, particularly of times spent working in industry in various parts of Germany and France. And that’s where the title comes in. While I was languishing in isolation and depression in one part of Germany (and, later, Paris), they all seem to have been meeting up and living it up in Munich. I can’t remember now what the story was about dancing in Dachau ( a suburb of Munich) – other than that it would make a great title for a novel – but it was great fun catching up and re-living the past.
While they were dancing in Dachau, I think I was probably reading a book and feeling miserable in Schwäbisch Gmünd. They got the better deal, I think.
July 5, 2010 at 6:35 am
Reunions are interesting – and sobering experiences, aren’t they? Despite the copious amounts of alcohol usually consumed at them.
I went to a 20th a few weeks ago. Not of uni graduation but of Foreigh Office joining (the latter being only a month after the former.)
I ‘got out’ after 5 years, those I met were still ‘in’ and pretty high falutin’ these days. It’s strange meeting an ambassador you best remember as a superb party animal and inefficient filing clerk. Equally, they could not get over how the Erica they remembered could be a ‘respectable’ vicar now, for very similar reasons. All rather uncomfortable amongst the jollity.
My overall impression was that they were still lovely people, still great party animals, and that the respective decisions we had all made re our lives had broadly worked out for each of us to be the human beings we were called to be. Thank God.
But I’m not sure I want to go back in ten years to see if that’s still true.
July 5, 2010 at 2:20 pm
Slightly off topic ( but still perhaps interesting).
I was puzzled by your title and what instantly came to mind was a radio piece some years ago about the liberation of a concentration camp where, by some bureaucratic absurdity, the relief supplies included quantities of ladies lipstick
Initial outrage amongst some of the liberators gave way to an insight as to what it is to be human. One contributor reported seeing an emaciated corpse in the mortuary wearing the lipstick, and he then realised that the inclusion was almost a work of surreal genius, because however briefly, the lady had been given back her dignity as a woman, and her humanity.
A strange story, but one I found very touching.
July 5, 2010 at 4:37 pm
I own up! I was one of those who danced in Dachau many years ago – happy memories of carefree student days.
From this most enjoyable reunion evening I have a number of reflections:
1) that we all had a surprising amount in common, still, in spite of the many different paths we have travelled since
2) that the bonds of friendship formed through shared experience (negative as well as positive) are special and lasting, in many cases
3) I wouldn’t have missed my Bradford days for the world, and that includes the dreadful student housing, and nocat norat curries. I wonder if students today are really “blessed” with all their comforts?
July 6, 2010 at 7:25 am
Nick,
While they were dancing in Dachau, I think I was probably reading a book and feeling miserable in Schwäbisch Gmünd. They got the better deal, I think.
I’m really not sure this is the case. It’s so impossible to say what could have been different at any stage of my own life. Sure, I could have finished my degree faster if I hadn’t had to deal with mental illness and physical injury, and I probably could have gotten a First instead of a 2:1, but some of the people I met in seeking help have changed my life in ways I couldn’t have imagined. It’s easy to look back and think that the dark days were ‘wasted’ time, but my experience of depression shaped and formed me, contributed to my being who I am today.
That isn’t to say that I think depression or other mental illness should ever go untreated! Appropriate treatment and support are important. But the time I’ve spent incapacitated by one thing or another, not joining in with the party, hiding from the world rather than going out dancing, is not something I see as a better or worse deal than others may have gotten.
Anne,
Having not too long ago been a student myself, my impression is that students today will be “blessed” with high levels of personal debt for many years to come.
July 7, 2010 at 6:59 am
Nick,
You may remember that I was your successor, both in your placement and in your rented room in Schwäbisch Gmünd (a challenge for any non-German speakers wishing to write to me!).
Although ‘living it up’ would certainly be a more apt description of my preceding 6-month placement in Paris than of my time in Gmünd, I nevertheless managed to get in some dancing.
Driven by a spontaneous urge to meet new people, I contacted the local vicar for inspiration. He put me in touch with a group of students from the nearby college who went on weekly visits to the town’s women’s prison, where they organised a variety of activities. I ended up participating in a regular ballroom dancing class with female prisoners. This may sound slightly surreal but was in fact a welcome and enriching experience for both sides.
I wish I could have made it to your reunion last weekend!
Martin
July 7, 2010 at 7:49 pm
Martin,
I do remember you, but had forgotten that you followed me to Schwäbisch Gmünd. I’m not sure many of us will make it to the 40th anniversary reunion, so maybe we ought to be organising something sooner! You missed a good evening.
July 7, 2010 at 7:51 pm
Anne, it was great to see you again. Reunions do make us reflective, don’t they?!
July 7, 2010 at 10:50 pm
[...] I have ignored this until now. But, reading the mischievous speculation last weekend about the nomination of the new Bishop of Southwark, I thought I’d have a fresh look at the language. (Linguistic analysis of texts isn’t just the preserve of under-occupied pedants; it can be useful in shining a light on reality – as we discovered when training in it at university.) [...]
July 8, 2010 at 7:06 am
[...] I have ignored this until now. But, reading the mischievous speculation last weekend about the nomination of the new Bishop of Southwark, I thought I’d have a fresh look at the language. (Linguistic analysis of texts isn’t just the preserve of under-occupied pedants; it can be useful in shining a light on reality – as we discovered when training in it at university.) [...]
January 20, 2012 at 10:01 am
Nick, I remember you, don’t know if you remember me – Jane Rainbow as was. I studied French and Spanish. I have stayed in touch with Lynne Bose and Martin Lund, although no Xmas card from Martin this year. Would have loved to meet up. If any reunions every come along again, please contact me at janeella229@hotmail.com