Winding down, moving in, keeping on

Scene at the Blue Ocean fish and chip shop on Pitshanger Lane last night. An English couple in their 70s are seated in the restaurant section, waiting for their meal. I take a small table by the window, one other table (for four) has a reservation, there are a few more tables for two.

It's a long wait at the Blue Ocean as everything is freshly cooked. The Greek-Cypriot waiter (who's also manning the fish fryer) takes a phone call and comes over to the couple. Apparently, there's a large group coming, and would they mind moving over to one of the tables for two. They move, but he's not happy. I can tell by the way he slams his half-empty Coke can on the ledge. Soon a group come in, to take the vacated table for four; two adjacent tables for two are pushed together to make a single long table for eight. The group settles in. They are Italian, stereotypically voluble. Hugs, kisses, ciao, bellissimas and all at vocal volume ten.

The English couple are served their fish and chips, and eat in silence. Grumpy is not the word. Then another, smaller, party arrive. Four of them. Portuguese. Not as loud as the Italians, but also speaking in forrin. Add the Greek-Cypriot waiter and myself, in from Poland though born and raised locally, and the English are outnumbered seven to one.

Pitshanger Lane is very European - French is often heard along with other languages. There's a French primary school across the railway line in Hanwell, preparing pupils for the long-established Lycée in South Kensington. The influx of well-heeled foreigners into the area has benefited the look and feel of Pitshanger village; it is a delightful place to live, but property prices are high.

But for people who were born and grew up here, the changes have made Ealing unrecognisable compared to how things were half a century ago.

Migrants work harder than the native community; these are people ready to leave home for new opportunities. Leave a wealthy country like any EU member state of Western Europe, and you'll be coming over for a very well-paid job. But migrants from poorer countries will settle into service-sector jobs, work hard, ensure their children are equipped with the education to rise into better employment.

Japan, an economy that's been virtually flat for the past three decades, has continued excluding migrants from its economy. It faces demographic challenges that are a harbinger of what the Western world can expect in the near future. Migrants fill ever-increasing gaps in labour markets; the challenge is a cultural one. Migrants need to be sensitive to the feelings of the indigenous population and adapt to their new environment - which does not mean abandoning their culture.

The UK economy is currently growing at a far slower rate than Poland. Many Poles I know in the UK are moving back to Poland or considering such a move. When I think back over the excellent healthcare my father was afforded in his final years, I struggle to remember any doctor or nurse or pharmacist that was English or British. They were nearly all migrants or children of migrants.

People get lazy as they get older and more comfortable. The will to get out and work hard dissipates as the need to keep the wolf from the door abates. When the Brexit issue is sorted out, one way or another, and the dust settles, will migrants keep coming to the UK? Where will they work? Will there be enough labour to keep the economy from stagnating, as the Japanese one did from 1991 onward?

[I miss my father. While writing this blog over the past 12 and half years - one eighth of a century! - I was always conscious that my father was my most loyal reader. Every now and then as I wrote this piece, I was thinking about him, how he'd respond to my points... he's gone now. I do miss him.]

This time last year:
Socialist-realist Tychy

This time four years ago:
Face to face with the UK retailing scene

This time five years ago:
Bricktorian Birmingham

This time seven years ago:
Welcome to Lemmingrad

This time nine years ago:
Dream highway

This time 11 years ago:
The Days are Marching

This time 12 years ago:
First snow, 2007