Firstly, London wins the right to host the 2012 Olympic Games. When Sydney won the rights in 1993, it was easily one of the most enjoyable occasions of my young life. I still remember the event vividly. I was 16 years old, still strictly controlled by my well-meaning parents, so I rarely if ever was allowed out at night. As the date of the announcement approached, a few of my friends from school were organising to wake up and midnight and go into the city to witness the announcement broadcast live on massive screens in Circular Quay. Due to the time difference in Australia, the announcement was to be made at 4:49am, and I was certain my parents wouldn't let me go. But luckily, as we were to be chaperoned by the parents of one of my friends, I was allowed, and thus one of the most exuberant evenings of my life began.
It seems like such a minor thing, but its all about the simple pleasures in life. I tell you, to be out with friends in the middle of the night, roaming the city streets that were electric with excitement, teaming with people, raucous with expectancy... We passed the hustling drag queens of Williams Street, got wolf whistled by drunken lads, danced around the music that seemed to come from everywhere. It was an incredible atmostphere, we felt one with the city and its hopeful people.
When the announcement came, the city exploded. I can't describe how joyful it was to be there, surprised and overjoyed that our little city had been chosen by such a prestigious international committee. The cheering and celebration was communal and long-lasting... I remember we walked and walked around the dawn-breaking city, and everywhere we looked there were people screaming 'We won!!!!', cars honking, intersections jammed as people congratulated each other car to car... it was a celebration like nothing else I'd witnessed. I was home at 7am, showered, and went straight to school, my first party all-nighter!
The London event was different. Everyone thought it would be great, but London isn't prone to excitement and excessive emotion. This understated approach was very much the mood of the lead up to the announcement, and a little surprisingly, the aftermath as well. Us Australians who had experienced the euphoria of winning the Olympics ourselves expected a little partying, a little celebration, but disappointingly, there was nothing. No party, no jubilant screaming people, nothing. There was a little hooraying around Trafalgar Square, but it seemed the joy was confined to that tiny pocket of London. Life went on, it seemed. Perhaps, the joy was felt, but in classic English fashion, it wouldn't do to show too much emotion.
24 hours later, everything changed. Terror finally - after much anticipation - hit. It started off as supposedly a power surge stopping a train at Liverpool Street station, but something inside me instantly knew it wasn't anything as innocent as that. Quickly there were more reports, and then the rumour mill and embellishments began, as supposedly 3 buses exploded, 7 stations attacked, the army marching into Covent Garden, suicide bombers killed with snipers... it was agony sitting in an office dependent entirely on the speed and accuracy of online journalists. We sat there Googling news sites, hoping for more information, hoping there wasn't more.
Very quickly we realised no work was going to be done that day, so the population of our company in the office that day, 3 people, went back to my colleague's house which is a 2 minute walk away from the office. There we sat watching BBC News all day, shocked into silence again and again as images of shredded buses and burnt victims plagued our screens. Frantically we tried to contact loved ones in London, and responded to loved ones outside of London checking up on us. Thankfully, all parties were safe and accounted for, but not so great for the unlucky ones.
And Luck seems to be at the crux of this incident. Compared to other terrorist attacks, the London bombing is puny in size and degree of atrocities. Compared even to other London attacks in the past, it was relatively minor in scale and destruction. However, the reason it hit us all so deep was because of how nearly it could have been any of us.
Three of the attacked tube stations are literally minutes from my work place and home. The attacked bus is one I reguarly catch. Where it exploded is somewhere I go by. This applies to most of my friends too. The probability that we could have been involved is higher than for any other incident that has happened globally or in London. That is what shocked so many of us the most.
The other scary factor is imagining how terrifying it must have been. I tend to avoid the tube as it is: I find it cramped, airless, filty, and the knowledge that I am very far down tends to make me claustrophobic. So when I imagine how those trapped must have felt - with no room to move as soot and smoke clouded their carriage, as panic took over making the airlessness and proximity of others even more oppressive, with no knowledge of the cause or extent of the incident... I saw one witness being interviewed saying they all thought a wall of flame was about to come rushing through the carriages at any second. Can you imagine how terrifying that must have been. People were breaking the window glasses with the bare hands in desperation. The terror is unthinkable. I think there are a large number of people that are now avoiding the tube, not because they think it will happen again, but because we don't trust our imaginations to avoid reliving the nightmare of others.
What I found vastly interesting though, is the degree to which Londoners reaction to the Olympic joy parallels with the Terror tragedy. By the next day, life seemed almost back to normal again, and certainly by the end of the first weekend, it was as if nothing had happened. How curious, that Londoners take great joy and great sorrow with such equivocality. I suspect that isn't quite the case, I think Londoners are reacting internally rather than not at all, absorbing the sorrow and fear, and dealing with it without bothering anyone else. Its a strength in a way, because they have been able to charge through the tragedy, accepting the transport delays and increased security without any qualms, and moving on, progressing, living.
As a foreigner that now feels very much a Londoner, I understand this approach, and revel in it for the strength and conviction it gives me, even though this very quality is what kept post-Olympic win celebrations to a minimum. Ah the price we pay to live in London :-)
