2005 was a turbulent year. I was reading the Defence News web site the other day when I found these great pics taken from some of last year’s main events. The poppies over Trafalgar Square on Commemoration Day is something I will never forget. In fact, I will never forget that whole, weird week.

I moved to England on the 29th of June last year. It was a daunting venture down an unknown path, but something I felt I had to do. I had graduated from uni and landed a teaching job in London.

We arrived with nothing but our clothes. The troops (my kids) went down to Brighton to stay with a friend of mine. Ems, my oldest, and I booked into a hostel in Bayswater, and began our quest to find a new home for us all. It turned out to be a lot more difficult than I would have imagined, but the 7th of July we finally had the keys to our new home in Ealing. It was by far one of the weirdest weeks of my life.

Wednesday the 6th of July was the day England landed the 2012 Olympic Games. People were mad with happiness, and we were all best friends celebrating in the streets and in the pubs. Thursday morning, on my way to work, I noticed that the tabloids were over the moon with nationalistic pride. It was difficult to know which made them the happiest – to get to host the Olympics, or the fact that France had lost the bid. One headline even read: We may have crap food – but we’ve got the Olympics!

My first lesson that day was interrupted by a colleague who asked me to come down to the staff room. We were informed that London Transport had been attacked by terrorists, and worried parents wanted to get in touch with their children. We were also told that we would not be allowed to leave campus. As I had my daughter on her own somewhere in the city, I decided to leave and try to meet up with her in Notting Hill where we were supposed to get the keys to our flat. Getting there was a veritable logistic nightmare.

What struck me the most that day was how extraordinary the English are when it comes to showing resolve and fighting spirit. People were looking after each other, helping each other find their ways, contact relatives, seek assistance etc. Police, security guards, and London Transport staff were everywhere, asking people if they needed help. Strangers would offer support in the middle of the commotion. Old people reminded us of the war and the importance of calmness and team-spirit. The streets were packed with people who had to walk home. One would imagine that this would lead to chaos, panic and a bad atmosphere, but people were amazing the way they kept calm and put on a brave, cheerful face. Methinks having experienced something like this first hand makes you more humble.

Friday was a day of sadness, sorrow, and mourning. I wasn’t the only one who kept a suspicious eye on my fellow tube travellers. I think we were all afraid, feeling as if we had just landed in some kind of vacuum. I had to go on a train, two buses and four tubes to get to work, as only some parts of the transport system were up and running again.

Saturday was unusually quiet, but Sunday was spectacular. It was Commemoration Day. People seemed to come out of their houses to show their resilience. Trafalgar Square was packed with people, and as the WWII bombers flew over London, releasing red clouds of poppies, my eyes were not the only ones that were full of tears. As one body we stood together saying no to terrorism. Pain is temporary – losing is forever!

Monday we were back to business as usual. It was a weird feeling sitting on the tube knowing that the rescue work was still progressing in one of the tunnels. Four days after the explosion it was still 60° C in there. People were still missing and outside the tube stations flowers, candles and notes reminded us of the horrors we were still pretty much in the middle of. In the afternoon the newspapers serenaded the resilient city dwellers that defied terrorism.

It was weird how we in one week went from nationalistic joy, via shock, horrors, mourning and Commemoration, to a state where we decided to face the next day with a certain resilience and fresh-faced optimism. As if nothing had happened, although everything had, and nothing would ever be the same again.

If I had known then that my first year in this country in many ways would resemble that first week, I would probably have freaked out and gone back home again.

But I didn’t…

//Evalena

To see all the Defence News pics, go to: http://www.mod.uk/DefenceInternet/DefenceNews/PeopleInDefence/2005AYearInPictures.htm

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