During my semester in London I really tried to take advantage of living in an international city by exposing myself to as much culture as possible. I went to several plays, visited countless museums, and saw several bands play. London was a godsend for me, a girl from the middle of nowhere in upstate New York. Usually to find a good concert or museum one would drive at least two hours where I'm from. Culture was an adventure similar to a conquistador's and it was thrilling.
After passing by a giant Grizzly Bear poster for their brilliant album Veckatamist every day for about two months I thought it was time to check up on their tour dates. Grizzly Bear is one of my favorite bands, and I knew they would be amazing live. Lo and behold, they were playing two weeks later in Bristol only a few hours away from London! I started talking with some people and realized another group from the London Center were trying to figure out if they could go or not. We bought tickets immediately and began looking at transportation. One girl couldn't afford to stay at a hostel and see the concert. So, we decided to just book tickets for an early bus, see the sites in Bristol, go to the concert and take the bus home shortly after that.
In the next few weeks we were all so elated, I must have listened to Veckatamist and Knife about twenty times each. Knowing that I would hear their complex instrumentation and multi-layered angelic vocals gave me such joy, I was on top of the world! However, as the days went by our friend who couldn't afford to stay at the hostel learned that she could also not afford to even go to the concert, poor thing. We went to lastfm.com, and were lucky enough to find someone looking for a ticket to the show.
By the day we left for the concert our numbers had dwindled to three dedicated fans; Tamar, Ginny, and me. The three of us woke up just after the sun rose, took the tube over to the bus station and rode west to Bristol. It was a rainy day. You know, typical Britain, but I was still having my little parade with Grizzly Bear music booming through my red skull-candy headphones. We arrive in Bristol, visit the gorgeous Romanesque Bristol Cathedral and do some window shopping. Then we get a call from Alex, the person we sold the ticket to and we figure he is starting to get antsy about actually getting the ticket so after a quick but delicious dinner at an Irish styled pub we head over to the venue.
After Ginny attempted to contact him to no avail, we decide to sit outside half an hour before the doors open so we would be easy to stop. We start joking about how ridiculous we must look having been up since 5 AM; I definitely did not shower recently, I think Tamar might have been up all night, and Ginny is wearing this outfit complete with fanny pack. After a few minutes Alex returns her call and we're all so excited that we actually contacted someone to sell the ticket. He asks Ginny to describe us so he can find us once he arrives and feeling spunky she says, "I'm the girl with the red fanny pack!" Alex responds, "Wha- oh, okay... I'll find you." She doesn't think anything of his response and we continue, energies high with the concert doors opening in a matter of minutes!
A few moments later Alex finds us, he's an Asian scene kid about 18 or 19 years old from Bristol. We start talking about the concert and how awesome it is that we found eachother, then he mentions to Ginny, "You know, it was kind of funny how you told me how to find you, ...'red fanny pack.' You know that doesn't mean the same thing over here, right?"
All three of us quickly realize the mistake Ginny made. In the first week of London our program leader explained to us that certain words don't translate the same way, and he specifically mentioned that fanny pack in Britain means vulva. It was the beginning of an unforgettable night. After the concert we followed Alex to the clubs and fried chicken shacks in the area until 4 in the morning then stayed in the bus station next to a friendly homeless Veteran until we could travel back to London. Oh, what a night!
No comments:
Post a Comment