Summer Postcards
London Burning
I’m sure it has, but less than three days after our meeting hundreds of looters stormed an electronics shop in Brixton. It is a familiar story in London’s urban sprawl—often in its poorer, more marginalized outer areas, such as Tottenham, Croydon, and Hackney. It all started on Thursday in the northern neighborhood of Tottenham, after police lethally shot Mark Duggan, a local father of four and alleged gangster. A peaceful protest soon descended into anarchy, and over the following few days dozens of areas around the metropolis bore witness to arson and looting. As I write these words, there is a strong likelihood that the violence will repeat itself this Tuesday evening, despite police efforts to the contrary. It’s not an exaggeration to say that riots have engulfed the city.
A Loaded Interruption
However, two stops later, a contingent of three officers of the national police and three soldiers of the ground army security force board the train. Despite growing up in the land of the second amendment, the NRA, and “CSI: NY,” I am shocked by the armed soldiers’ presence on this crowded train. They seem to be an affront to the normal pace of life. The soldiers are carrying FAMAS assault rifles.
In Salmiak Territory
Most kids don’t like the taste, but many grow up to be self-proclaimed addicts or casual consumers of salmiak. “It’s something you either love or hate,” the Finnish students I met at a hostel in Frankfurt told me, “You really have to try it if you are ever in Finland.”
I'm Still Standing ... in a Cornfield
A friend and I thought through the logistics. Getting to the concert would be easy. In true European fashion, it started at 9:30 p.m., so we planned to take a train from Venice to Padua and find our way to the venue. As for getting back, we weren’t too concerned: we would make sure to grab a cab around midnight in time to catch the 12:41 a.m. train, the last one out of Padua for the night. We wanted to be sure to make that final train: if we didn’t, we would be forced to spend the night at the sketchy Padua train station and wouldn’t be back in Venice until 6 a.m.
