So much for friends, eh? The latest YouTube viral, with five million hits overnight, revolves around concerned friends convincing
a drunk that he has been in a coma for ten years. Imagine doing that? Imagine waking up in a hospital bed,
having been asleep for ten long years and then going out for your first
encounter with the new world. I did:
So, big day today. Ten years? How much could things
really have changed? The last I remember was stepping out into traffic and then…
nothing. Just a fuzzy head when I woke up this morning. Everything seems to be
working, although my legs feel a bit wobbly. Anyway, here goes. They say the past
is a foreign country so logically the future must be too.
I’m outside and first impressions are… Wow, it’s busy.
And there seems to have been some building done; it’s all so much denser than I
remember. Both buildings and people - it’s so crowded. And people are so rude,
bumping into me. And so alien-looking and strangely dressed. I feel a bit
threatened, actually; there are groups of sullen young men staring openly at me
in a challenging way.
Wait, I’ve got it. I remember I was on holiday when I had
the accident and I must be still here, although I can’t entirely remember where
that is. Of course, that would explain why all the signs are in scripts I can’t
read and all the chatter on smart phones in tongues I don’t understand. It didn’t
seem so odd in the hospital because the NHS is almost entirely staffed by
foreigners anyway. Now I know I’m still in… where? My memory is still vague; I’ll
see if I can work it out.
Most of the signs seem to be in Arabic, but there are
other alphabets here too. That looks a bit Russian, over there, and there are a
few in what looks like Chinese – but I suppose you get that everywhere. Oh,
hang on, those young men are pointing my way. What have I done? Don’t you hate
it when you don’t know the local ways? I would hate to cause offence just because
I don’t understand the customs of the host country. How shameful to get deported
for a breach of etiquette. Oh, god, they’re walking towards me.
I’m picking up my pace now and walking away; if in doubt,
clear out, I say. But I can hear the clamour behind me and I think they are
catching up. This could get messy. I’m lost now and I think I’m walking further
away from the hospital. I’m the only white face on the street and I stick out a
mile; pale and sweaty and flushed and afraid. There’s a barrier up ahead and
beyond it I can see things are different; if I can just get past that.
Travel broadens horizons...
And suddenly I feel safer. I’m still the stranger in the
crowd but the milling throng has thinned a little and I feel I can breathe
again. Dare I turn around? For a few seconds I just stand still and control my
breathing and then I slowly look back over my shoulder. My tormenters have
stayed behind the barrier, draped across which is a banner written, at last, in
English. I turn to get a better look. "Muslim area, it says, Sharia Law Here".
And then it dawns: Bollocks. This isn't the future, I’ve just woken up in Tower Fucking Hamlets.
