It's been hard to look away from the news this past week in the U.K. Turbulent is a light way of putting things. Shakespearian might be more apt, chaotic even better.
When I woke up in my London flat Friday morning, June 24, the shock of the referendum shook me from my dreams incredibly quickly.
Both my partner (a South African with dual British citizenship) and myself (a Canadian with dual British citizenship) had firmly voted to remain in the European Union the day before. Going to the polling station had felt incredibly momentous - something that made me pause, my breath catching with emotion as I placed my ballot. We walked back to our home, contemplating what would happen if the U.K. were to leave, but both passed it off as a close but still unlikely outcome.
At that moment I realized that never before had a political situation moved me so - and I didn't even grow up in England. But despite not being raised here, the weeks that had preceded the vote had been littered with tension, emotion, intensity and vocal commentary that shed a light on the major differences between The Big Smoke, Scotland and Northern Ireland on one side, and many other parts of England on the other. What would transpire from the election results would be even more surprising for many of us.
I spent that Friday morning in a state of numbness. I couldn't believe what was happening, and the key thing was that it was clear that numerous leading politicians and the economic markets couldn't either. I floated through the morning on a cloud of sadness and anxiety as to the future of this nation, this place that has become my home over nearly nine years.
My friends across London, and my friends in Scotland, were all feeling similar - dozens upon dozens of Facebook status updates assured me that I was not in some lonely bubble feeling the aftershock of the vote but this realization did little to assist me in feeling any better.
'What have we done?' flowed from my mouth almost without warning repeatedly, as much as the tears did.
But why, you might ask, was this all so emotional? For me, the simple fact is that I love what Europe and the European Union represents. It is a relationship that I have believed in. Is it perfect? Of course not. Could it be better? Of course it could. But I believed in it, I believed in what it represented - nations working together, supporting each other, being open and allowing open movement of people, goods, services and communication. And like a child unaware of the arguments between her parents, I was thrown askance by the news that there was to be a divorce, a real, honest to goodness divorce.
For someone who grew up in Canada, for someone who knows how long it often takes to travel anywhere, Europe has always appealed. I moved here in 2007 - just for a year after university. But the excitement of living so near to so many other countries, so many other cultures and languages was too much to lose and I stayed. In that time, I've been lucky enough to travel extensively around Europe, to fall in love with its incredibly varied network of countries, and still return back to London each time - a great city in itself, a place that balances many of the cultural aspects of the continent with a certain sensibility and discipline that is more akin to North America; it's an island that is also a bridge.
But it is about so much more than travel, about the fact that my passport allows me (and millions upon millions of others) to work anywhere in the European Union easily if we so wish. More importantly, the fear that came into me like a bullet when I saw the announcement was that it would increase a growing amount of negative rhetoric that I see rearing its ugly head too often.
Much of the campaign by Leave was focused on immigration, of over-crowded borders, of 'us' versus 'them', and I instantly worried that a public declaration in favour of Leave would send out the signal to all of the right wing crazies that it is okay to hate on your neighbour if they're different and not from this country. In the week that has followed, it has proven to be the case, with large increases in the number of reported hate crimes. It's hard to separate out whether this is simply because the media is more focused on it or not, but it's still worrying.
I was, however, to spend very little time on home shores after the vote. By mid-afternoon, my partner and I were on a plane to Bulgaria for the weekend. This hopping about to other countries for short breaks has become the norm in my life these past years, as it is for many other 'young' Londoners.
We left with a sense of irony: just as the U.K. voted out, we were leaving it, wanting to shut out the reality of a nation that suddenly felt a bit lost, a bit shambolic. Upon arrival in Bulgaria, the most extraordinary things happened: at the airport, we went to get a taxi and found that while the driver spoke no English, he did speak Spanish (having lived in Spain for 20 years) and so we could communicate.
At the wine bar a few hours later, while sipping a few much-needed glasses of wine, we learned that the proprietor Boris had learned much about the wine trade during his years living in Germany. Over the night, he flitted between Bulgarian, German and English, while we enjoyed a range of Bulgarian wines alongside French and Spanish inspired foods.
The conversation, meanwhile, darted between us desperately not wanting to talk about the referendum results, to desperately wanting to lament the outcome, to hang our heads in shame and apologize on behalf of the U.K. for what we'd done, what chain reaction we had started. Boris - recognizing our emotional state - fed us more wine, and shook his head in sadness alongside us.
'What have you done?' was a common statement.
After a weekend in Bulgaria, I was on my way to Scotland. After 14 years as a journalist, I now work in the whisky industry as a brand ambassador and whisky specialist for one of the leading whisky companies. I landed in Edinburgh, and for the first time in as long as I can recall, was glad to not have to be in England, despite not loving being away from my actual house and bed. I just couldn't face England yet.
In Scotland, things have felt much more normal - here, a vast proportion of the population voted to remain, a fact which has caused a lot of anxiety in the country since it also voted to stay in the U.K. so recently in its own referendum. Many of those that voted to remain with the U.K. are now lamenting that decision, angered that they need to be lumped in and to separate from the EU.
Nicola Sturgeon, the leader of the country, went to Brussels herself this week, with a slight spring in her step and confidence that Scotland would hold another referendum, vote to leave the UK, and then look to stay in the EU on its own. But it is not - as none of this is - so simple, and the EU has stated that there is no guarantee that Scotland, a small nation, would even be accepted into the EU if it were to go it alone. Worry, therefore, continues here as the reality that we are leaving sinks in.
But it is the politics of the past week that have perhaps shocked the most. First our prime minister, David Cameron, resigned. This, in itself, was enough to anger many who felt that the only reason he was ever elected was by promising to hold a referendum on the EU. And while he was a staunch supporter of the Remain camp, it still seemed gutless that he would bow out just as soon as his country had made the decision to leave.
Next it was Boris Johnson - the vocal supporter of Leave and the former London mayor - who it seemed likely would replace Cameron. But then, in a sudden shock moment, his partner in Brexit campaigning - Michael Gove - turned around and, instead of supporting him, stepped forward to say he would also run for the candidacy of the Conservative party due to his lack of confidence in Boris, something that only displayed itself as a sure fire stab in the back.
Next, it was Labour, and the cabinet voting a lack of confidence in its leader Jeremy Corbyn, a resignation of members, a call for him to also step down. He's remained, but it'll be interesting to see how long his defiance persists.
The most ironic part for me? Hearing a BBC journalist comment that it seemed like the only 'adult in the room' was in fact Mark Carney, head of the Bank of England, and a Canadian. Maybe what the UK needs is some outside influences to help get the politicians to stop stabbing each other in the back in the race to lead the country and the various parties.
As I sit a week on, here in my hotel room in Glasgow, it is as Question Time - a famous BBC political debating show - airs in the background. Whenever I've had a chance, the news has been firmly on, and it is clear from tonight's episode that this is a "United" Kingdom very much reeling from a lack of unity. No one seems to be able to agree, the EU is telling us that we've made our bed and now we need to get into gear and start the divorce procedures, and our leaders can't even decide who should be leading the sodding place.
It's a shambles, through and through.
But most of all, it's a situation that had made so many people sad. Sad about what we might be losing, sad for those people who will see their future changed by such a small win (the Brexit camp took the vote by 52 per cent to 48 per cent), sad for the breakup of something that - while not perfect - also has been at the forefront of a peaceful union for such a long time.
This fact is even more momentous on the eve of the 100th anniversary of the start of the battle of The Somme, a battle which fractured this nation so wholly but for different reasons, in that case due to the loss of thousands upon thousands of young men. So much has changed in the past century, we have achieved such a long time of peace, and I only desperately hope that we can maintain that - if not politically, then certainly at least physically.
This nation is one that is divided, and those clear separation lines between the Remain and Leave camp are going to take a long time to heal, especially as the turbulence continues. It's also made me question my place in all of this - as a 'foreigner' where do I stand?
Hilariously, I have seen a great increase in the number of people asking if they can move to Canada now. I am lucky enough to choose which passport I travel on and identify with more. And at the moment, I am only left with as much confusion as I think the rest of the population is feeling.
- Alwynne Gwilt is a graduate of Duchess Park Secondary in Prince George. She wrote a weekly column for Prince George This Week in 2003 and worked at The Citizen as a summer reporter in 2005, earning a Canadian Association of Journalists nomination for student reporting for a feature on local air quality. After graduating from the journalism program at Ryerson University in Toronto, she headed to London to pursue her career. Today she is widely known to British readers as Miss Whisky for her popular writing and blogging on the "water of life."
