Culture wars

Mealtimes with my parents typically involve some sparring about the accusation that I moved to Cambridge and developed bourgeois tastes. This is patently incorrect given that 75% of my dinners since March have been a cheese sandwich and a packet of Haribo on a park bench, albeit a park bench with an illustrious Cambridge college view. I remind them of my dietary habits, which have regressed to those of a 4-year old, if anything, but this does not temper their view. I’ve noticed many Brits labelling everything and anything associated with Cambridge as ‘posh’, which is also factually incorrect, if you’ve ever moved more than half a kilometre from King’s Parade.

Tonight’s accusation was issued because I didn’t fancy salted caramel or rum and raisin ice cream with leftover apple pie. That cacophony of flavours would be too much for my childlike palate. I asked whether there was any vanilla and was met with derision for having lofty desires. They then whipped out the crème fraîche instead. I think I know who are the true bougie ones in this house. Yet let’s not let the evidence sway our entrenched view.

Everyone’s been in an extreme state of anxiety today. Me about whether the Mozambique High Commission will ever answer their phone so I can ascertain which country I’ll be in come next week. The mother about whether I’ll be in for me tea tomorrow. Living through similar levels of uncertainty.

I was on an interview panel in the afternoon and had to quickly tidy up the backdrop lest I come across as unprofessional and/or unprepared. This framed photo of my dad puffing on his clarinet remained on the wall behind me, and I don’t think it distracted the interviewee from answering questions about conservation in Kenya.

In the evening we watched a run of quiz shows. The participants on University Challenge seem less strong on geography than they are on 17th century composers. I had to chuckle when (a perhaps increasingly charitable with age) Jeremy Paxman said ‘your bonus round is on people born in the Polish city of Gdansk, formerly Danzig.’ Who can possibly know this stuff?!