Yesterday my 14-years old and her friend presented me with a little “essay” about Medway – the area where we live. It was written with great sarcasm, emphasizing all its flaws and basically slagging it off. Though, I have to say it was written not without style. I had mixed emotions about it: first, sadness (why are they so resentful to this place?), then anger (you haven’t seen other, much worse places) and then I just shrugged my shoulders. Teenagers nowadays. And they said that it was just an exercise in humor anyway. But thinking about it further I could see a tendency, especially among the young people, to actively criticize the places where they live, finding only bad things to say about it. Well…
I love Medway. I love England, my adoptive country. I was born in Russia, but from the early age, since I learned to read, England always fascinated me. My dad was a philologist and we had lots of various classical books: Fielding, Thackeray, Goldsmith and of course, Shakespeare and Dickens. Later it was Conan Doyle (read it about a million times), Chesterton, Christie… I formed an image of England, my own personal idea about the country… It was a dream, a dream based on literature but Oh! What a wonderful dream it was!
And you know what? When I first came here – I was not only not disappointed, I loved it even more. And then I came to live here.
Medway is a little region in the South-East of England, in the county of Kent.
It is beautiful. Don’t get me wrong – as everywhere else, there are lots of problems here – rubbish on the streets, drunks on Friday night, unemployment, etc, etc.
But let’s concentrate on other things:
I think it is very important to appreciate the place where you live, be it your little village, your huge city or your whole country, and – well, yes, simply to love it
I know I do and I am proud of it