(O) Manchester and North America 1982-1983

Manchester 1982 -1983

Matt Flynn was an Irishman working in Zomba, Malawi, who had the worst golf swing I have ever seen. It was so flawed it was embarrassing to watch. Apparently he had been a good golfer at some point. He was the nicest bloke and it was Matt who suggested I do a Masters Degree in Education at Manchester where he had done his. In early 1982 I was getting bored and beginning to wonder what I was going to do after I left Malawi. It was vintage ‘grass is greener’ Nixon stuff. I was in a good school in a perfect climate with friendly people on all sides and I wanted to leave!

I even got the Government of the Republic of Ireland to give me a grant to go to Manchester University!

In April 1982, I went to the travel agent in Blantyre and something happened which changed my live for ever: instead of finishing my journey form Malawi in London, the travel agent offered me a one way ticket to Calgary in Canada via London! It was some Indian travel agent scam-but I took advantage of it to get a free ride to Calgary from London.  The ticket was valid to September 1983. Over a year later I  travelled to Calgary and made a trip to Mexico via Canada and the United States.

Anyway, in August I left Malawi and went back to Belfast via London. Soon, on a rainy day, I was on my way to Manchester in Mum’s little red mini car. I drove there via the Larne Stranraer ferry. I stayed in Moberly tower-a residence for post-graduate students from overseas.

The lectures and seminars were very variable. Some were top class and others disappointing. One seminar contained a bunch of Nigerian oil bureaucrats who had obviously been sent by the Government on the program. Although pleasant enough outside of class they were mostly loud and arrogant and didn’t allow other people to speak in class discussions.

Some of my fellow students were interesting. The English ones from the North were Malcolm and Terry knicknamed “The Seal” and “The Badger” respectively because they looked like these animals. I used to eat regularly with this group in the canteen. I never found out my own nickname, but I’m sure they had an appropriate knickname –something to take me down a peg or two.... the opinionated little Irish nerd that they undoubtedly thought I was at the time!  Terry was a socialist of the left wing type-a great supporter of Tony Benn. It was the "Margaret Thatcher” era and during my stay there she was re-elected defeating Michael Foot –the intellectual, but not very pragmatic, nor effective,  socialist leader.

I was friendly with an Irish priest called John Lavin who had been a Deputy Principal in Hong-Kong. I also became friendly with a little Mexican Guy called Luis Rodriguez who was studying statistics. I met him in the TV room one night while he was watching the news. I think he invited me back to his room for coffee. He was friendly and this was my first introduction to Mexican charm. Through this friendship,  I soon became interested in learning to speak Spanish. I bought myself a little book of Spanish grammar and exercises and did them religiously on a daily basis. Luis marked them in the evening and then gave me some conversation practice. At Christmas I invited him to come to Belfast and he had Christmas with my family. We I then took him to Dublin and Wicklow in the car to meet my friends.

About half way through the year I began to wonder about what I was going to do next. I applied for several jobs with the United World Colleges and came close –but I just fell short of getting an interview at any of them. It was very frustrating. I really wanted to work in those international colleges because they had students form all over the word. Luis came up with a solution: he invited me to stay with his family in Mexico so that I could learn Spanish! Together with my one way ticket to Calgary –I had the perfect plan. I would fly to Calgary and take the bus through the United States to Mexico and stay with his family. That way,  I could become fluent in Spanish.

It was a fairly uneventful year by 'Nixon' standards. In the second term I thought I would try my hand at living on my own again. So, I rented a room in a house of a guy called Ian who I had met at the University bar. He seemed a nice guy at first,  but on closer acquaintance he turned out to be bit fussy. One day he had a go at me about a greasy chip pan. No doubt it was greasy, but not that greasy-by my standards! Anyway, in the third term I moved back into Moberly tower again!

Meanwhile, towards the end of the year Luis started to behave a little oddly. He was mixed up with some strong catholic sect (Opus Dei) and I soon formed the impression that he had a ‘past’ and some issues which he hadn’t really entirely dealt with. He seemed tense at times and started to make rather personal, sarcastic and hurtful remarks. I became alarmed,  and for a time considered calling off my trip to Mexico.

North America

In spite of Luis’s odd behaviour I went ahead with my trip to Calgary in September. I stayed with friends of my parents–Archie and Rita Thompson at Peachland. This was a revelation. Rita didn’t seem at all pleased to see me! Her son, who drove me around the place, told me his mother was annoyed with me because she thought  that I was behaving as if I wanted to be treated like a king! I didn’t think so, but then maybe I was –it might just have been me at that age. I dunno. Certainly, I didn’t think a lot of the north American idea of hospitality which as far as I could see amounted to not much more than “There’s the fridge –help yourself!” In Ireland, the host feels responsible for the guest's comfort and is very attentive to the guest's every need. In Canada, it seemed not to be the same.

Anyway, I stayed only a few days with the son who showed me a few things –including a hedge under which on occasion he claimed he had slept at night! He tried to bring the conversation around to his conquests of women –which I found awkward, as I hadn’t conquered any at that stage! I was thirty,  and still a virgin. I found his boasting very embarrassing!

I took the bus to Vancouver, and from there I caught a bus to San Francisco. It was a long journey. We crossed the border at Seattle and I had a very difficult time. The Greyhound bus was held up for half an hour while I was interrogated by immigration who were suspicious of my story. I suppose it was a little odd. I explained I was on a ‘one way’ trip to a friend in Mexico in order to stay with him and learn Spanish. It was at the height of the troubles in Northern Ireland. To the immigration officer, I was an Irishman from Belfast with a one way ticket into the US and an 'unlikely' story about going to Mexico. The fact that I had a visa in Belfast was of no consequence to this officer. In the end he reluctantly stamped my passport and let me in. The bus was held up for twenty minutes while I talked my way out of it. In the end he almost spat out the words

“I do this with great reluctance” and he stamped my passport with a dramatic flourish.

In San Francisco I stayed at the YMCA and I went on a helicopter ride around San Francisco bay. Then I went to Los Angeles and stayed with Roger Craig-an old friend from my school  days. He put me up in his Malibu home. Roger was a very successful musician on the L.A. scene. He was doing back-up music for various groups. I remember asking him if I could accompany him to work and I was disappointed when he declined to let me join him. In retrospect, I was very naive to ask him.

Like Rita T in Peachland,  I was again being presumptious and expecting far too much of people. This is a personality trait of mine which has got me into a lot of trouble.

From L.A, I headed east to Las Vegas and saw the Grand Canyon passing through Flagstaff.

I hated Las Vegas . I arrived at three in the morning , walked up the strip-just to say I had done it (How vain!) and took the bus out of town again!

From L.A, I headed to Albuquerque to visit the United world college of the American West. ( An I.B. school). I was expecting the 'Royal treatment' again from the Principal. I thought he would be impressed by my dedication to the cause –travelling all this way to visit his school. He barely glanced at me!  I shuffled off disconsolately muttering to myself about the slings and arrows of misfortune.

From Albuquerque,  I travelled to a friend of Luis, who lived on the US side of the border. Then I travelled to  El Paso and took a bus to Mexico city. 

When I arrived in Mexico City I stayed with Luis's sister, and my adventures really started!