Back to my Roots

“Eoi. Darrn, you cumin aought leigher? Eim ganna omen aw, bua givus a beel wenya geah inn.

Now, for most people, that would make no sense whatsoever, there isn’t even an Altavista translate tool that could sort that one out. In fact it is good enough for secret FBI code. But, my nineteen years of Essex left made me bilingual. Not in French, not in German, but in Essexspk. I’ll translate for now:-

“Excuse me Dan my dear old friend, are you by any chance giving us the pleasure of your presence tonight? I am going to my humble abode now, but do call me when you get home tonight!

It’s been three years since I last went out in Southend. Okay, not particularly a life changing piece of information I know, but considering I spent the first nineteen years of my life there, it’s tends to say a lot.

For all the non English people out there maybe it deserves an explanation. Essex is one of the most joke ridden counties in England. And maybe, it’s not difficult to see why. Stop at any public area, open your ears and try to understand a form of the English language that has been ‘developed’ since the days of Queens English.

Now, I don’t want to go back to my old mate George Bernard Shaw, when he told me once in 1912 that "It is impossible for an Englishman to open his mouth without making someone hate or despise him". But when it comes to accents in England, and more specifically Essex, it just tends to happen. Well maybe not hate George, a bit strong, just a small level of prejudice from some people.

So just where did Essex get this stereotype from? What stereotype? Well, ‘Essex’ jokes are as common as ‘blonde’ jokes. Over time the media and hearsay has created an image of Essex that will never go away.

So here is a sample of one of the many Essex jokes to give you a flavour of the stereotype of my home county:-

An Essex girl goes to the council to register for child benefit.

"How many children?" asks the council worker
"10" replies the Essex girl
"10???" says the council worker.. "What are their names?"
"Wayne, Wayne, Wayne, Wayne, Wayne, Wayne, Wayne, Wayne, Wayne and
Wayne"
"Doesn't that get confusing?"
"Naah..." says the Essex girl "its great because if they are out playing in the street I just have to shout WAAYNE, YER DINNER'S READY
OR
WAAYNE
GO TO BED NOW and they all do it..."
"What if you want to speak to one individually?" says the perturbed council worker.
"That's easy," says the Essex girl... "I just use their surnames"

The men get the same treatment. If you are from Essex, you are deemed to be called ‘Steve’ or ‘Wayne (see above joke), drive a modified cheap car, wear a Burberry baseball cap, tracksuit and conform to the Chav** stereotype of big gold earrings and a fake gold chain.

Now, stereotyping people based on where they are from or how they speak is, of course, narrow minded and ill conceived. I mean look at me, I’m from Essex and I never wore a big gold chain (it didn’t match the earrings and the tracksuit at the time). But by even mentioning this I am giving credence to these stereotypes, maybe I’m just narrow minded and too quick to judge, who knows.

Now, this stereotyping is so far ingrained within the English mindset, that if you say to someone from Kent (a county you can see from Essex, separated by a thin strip of water) that they are from Essex, they would say “Oh, no, I’m not from Essex, I’m from Kent you know!”

So what does my hometown of Southend have to offer me this weekend? Well it just so happens that I still support Southend United F.C, officially the worst team statistically over the last ten years out of ninety clubs. So maybe something else. Okay, it has the longest pleasure Pier in the world, measuring 1.34 miles. Well, it sounds great, they even have a train taking you to the end. The trouble is, there just nothing at the end.

I could always take a drive past my old schools, remind myself about the simple old days. That is if I can slow down, you see the Essex Boys like their fast modified cars so I might not get a chance to stop. Or maybe I’ll just end up at the pubs and clubs I always used to get into when I wasn’t supposed to, maybe I could meet a few Chav's**.

Despite all that is said about my home county, it is the place where I grew up. It did mould me in some sort of way, be it good, or bad. The Essex people on the whole are friendly and genuine, very good humoured and down to earth. After all, my dad gave up the beaches of Auckland for the beaches of Southend, no, actually let me think about that one……….

** A Chav defintion...................

link to BBC story about chav's

a map showing essex


my car journey tommorow, fascinating