Diaspora delights

My Russian correspondent rouses himself from the gutter outside the Kremlin to send his latest dispatch. Through the residual meths and brake fluid fumes he tells me he still hasn't manged to get inside the inner sanctum of the Russian state, but instead offers the following consolation: an interesting fact about Kyrgzstan (the best I could do was that it has the world's largest free growth walnut forest - is there another type?):

This is a part of the Islamic world that wears its religion lightly, merging it with the traditions of a proud steppe-based nomad people that defeated the Mongols and held off the great Tamburlaine. In the rural areas, the courtship ritual is still conducted on horseback, where the women beats off her chosen suitor with a horse whip until she deems him determined enough to be acceptable.
This is not a form of mating procedure that finds favor with the
ayatollahs in Tehran or the Wahhabite clerics of Saudi Arabia.

One imagines that would be the done thing in certain echelons of British society - certainly it seems preferable to some of the romantic nonsense one is forced to endure these days.

My correspondent also offers the following observation:

Was also amused to read that, aftermonths of references to the forthcoming "tulip revolution" is Kyr, the govt ripped out all the tulips in Bishkek in advance of the elections. Expect something similar to happen with apricots in Armenia, should thatever cease to be a despotic gangster-led kleptocracy with an influential and hypocritical and selectively blind diaspora. Which is unlikely.


All of these leads me to wonder about the vexed subject of diasporas. There is no doubt that some people seem better at the exiles business than others.

The question is: whose exiles have the best away form? The Italians and Irish, for instance, seem to have devoted much of the last 200 years establishing themselves in the New World and using their connections back home to fund various political movements/legitimate business enterprises. There are also massive Indian and Chinese diasporas across the continents.

The trick it seems, to establish yourself across the superpower of the time (hint: if you go to Patagonia, no one will pay any heed). The Armenians seem to have a presence in parts of Africa and the Med for a long time, but when it comes to highlighting their historical grievances no one seems interested. It also helps to maintain a separate cultural indentity (which disqualifies the English, except for their criminal classes who have a country made in their own image) or even a series of historic grudges (the Germans are possibly the biggest ethnic group in the US, but they're not really in a position to whinge, are they?)

The Jews for instance (please, no paranoid rants) simply by dint of sheer persistence probably deserve the prize for top exiles. After 2000 years this particular people do exercise a certain cultural, political and economic clout - but not more so than the aforementioned Chinese, Indians and Irish (since when did you see a Jewish festival turned into a marketing opportunity for a major brewery).

But they're beaten to it by a disapora with even more financial, cultural and political power: the Scots. From unpromising beginings in Northern Ireland (if you now feel obiliged to rant about Planters and 800 years of blah or the Cruithin, please go away) via lands of tedium such as Canada and New Zealand, the Scottish dispora runs England and could now be considered the most influential group in America, and therefore the world.

It also appears that the fun-loving Presbyterian church can also claim credit for the exuberant vitality of gospel music. Thanks to Ross for these links)

I know how the Pope felt on Sunday

I am nearly recovered from Easter. For those who don't know, on Good Friday the prissy, purtainical side of the Irish national character comes to the fore in the Smoke-Free State and all the pubs and offies shut as a mark of respect (forcing people to go on a big consumerist binge instead). Naturally, many people take this as their cue to stockpile massive stocks of booze and get unfeasibly drunk. Even now, I have scarcely levelled out from the effects of red wine, Calvados and a normal working weekend.

However, in a beautiful bit of synchronicity thousands of Irish soccer fans descended on Tel Aviv just in time for Purim: the one Jewish festival which is ("traditionally a time for dressing up, reveling and excessive drinking of alcohol" says Hareetz). I seem to recall that Purim also saw lots of clowns being put in places like Golders Green. You can probably make some gag about the Irish performance out of that.

If nothing else, the fans were lucky to escape the rain and all the reams of self-congratualtory guffe about the first anniversary of the Smoking Ban (the love of patting themselves on the back is another of the less attractive Irish character traits).

As one who rarely smokes cigarettes (and I have no intention of exposing myself to derision by standing out in the street for a Cuban cigar or a pipe) and am getting heartily sick of sitting by myself among half drunk pints while everyone troops out for a smoke. I fear it is yet another nail in the coffin for the art of conversation. Of course, the nannying prigs would suggest I hang out with non-smoking types, but really what sort of a person makes a minor health risk the basis for their whole social life?

More importantly, I have not seen one article that referred to the true pioneers of the smoking ban - Turkmenistan. All my hints to this effect have been ignored...

Even my dog is irritatingly smug

Can you put animals down for this?

Buster, our mongrel, is good at fetching the Guardian. When the Telegraph was delivered by mistake, he destroyed it. Good taste or what? Jeremy and Rosemary GoringSt Leonards-on-Sea, E Sussex

Remember: your choice of newspaper does not make you morally superior.


Update: Get a life, says one anonymous contributor. Venichka immediately thinks of the Camden New Journal. Camden sparks in me the memory of one Glaswegian tramp I met who had trained his dogs to carry tins of Special Brew in their mouths. Now that is animal training at its best.