journeys at home and abroad
. . we’re all set for the BBQ launch of our new Neighbourhood Watch this afternoon.
A knock on the door and a chat last week, a flyer through the door yesterday – we’re all go for our first get-together later this afternoon.
Families who’ve been living here for decades (and the short-stay singles/sharers) are happy for a chance to say hello and get to know each other. We don’t have a community hall or meeting room anywhere near, so we’re meeting under the trees in the grassy bit of our patch.
My neighbours come from Russia, Brazil, Kosovo, Kenya, Ireland, Latvia, Algeria, the Caribbean, Sierra Leone, Albania, Peru, France, Poland – as well as some born-n-bred Londoners. I think I’m the only Scot.
A BBQ during Ramadan is a bit tactless, I know (my apologies have been graciously accepted by Muslim neighbours), but it felt a bit now-or-never when we were sorting out the details last month.
I’m struck by how grateful people have been for an invitation, the offer of joining a group – a bit of connection. The huge amount of food that’s landed at my door for the BBQ is testament to this.
My husband is sceptical – who’s actually going to show up? Probably not many, especially in the rain. But they might look out of the window or wave as they go by – at least they’ll know a local (hyperlocal in fact) group exists and that they’ve been invited to join.
Let’s see what happens.