My only previous experience of speaking Esperanto in real life had been during the IJK 2009 in Liberec. Since I had enjoyed the IJK so much, I was incredibly pleased to learn that there would be a meet-up in London, and was very eager to go along. Because I hardly had a chance to speak with ‘Britaj esperantistoj’ amidst the madness of the IJK, I saw this as a good opportunity to meet and get to know British Esperantists better.
I was a little bit worried before going, since I had never travelled through London alone before, and my innate ability to get lost somewhat worried me. However, despite the chaotic diversions in Kent, I somehow arrived at The Penderel’s Oak in Holborn only five minutes late.
I walked into the pub, slightly nervous, but excited all the same, and was met by the now familiar face of Tim Owen. Although I had felt a bit tired and confused earlier, having been shouted at in Ashford station, I was pleased to discover that I could still understand spoken Esperanto and was able to ask ‘Ĉu vi scias, kie estas la necesejo?’, before it was too late.
As the day progressed, the Esperanto-table expanded, sucking in more and more chairs. First came the Esperantists living in the parts of Britain outside London (although not necessarily British), those from outside of ‘la urbo’, then those living in London and finally the ‘gasto el Calais’, who apparently took the scenic route through Chinatown, before turning up.
I found the atmosphere very friendly and relaxed. Because there were plenty of people, we could speak for hours on end without running out of things to say. I really liked the fact that there was a range of nationalities, as it made the conversations diverse and interesting.
The conversation flowed across topics and languages like the poetry of the tube rumbling under the city of London. After a couple of hours, I forgot that I was speaking in Esperanto and was simply speaking.
It still amazed me that after only beginning to speak Esperanto (as opposed to read or write it) two months ago, and hardly having practiced since, I was capable of speaking about a wide range of topics without many problems at all.
Although the journey to The Penderel’s Oak was entirely straightforward, I took a wrong turning on the underground on the way back, possibly, because I was assailed in Esperanto by an ‘alta, malhelharara, bela strangulo’ whilst walking up High Holborn Road, and, instead of concentrating on getting back, I decided to let everyone on the streets of London and on the tube hear me speak Esperanto as loudly as possible. How mature! Consequently, I accidentally went to Liverpool Street instead of Leicester Square and had to retrace my steps. But it was well worth it.
I went back home by train, tired, my mind confused by too many languages buzzing round my head and being spoken on the train, but very satisfied with the day. I see this as a beginning, not a one-off. I will certainly go to other ‘JEB-renkontiĝoj’ in the future and generally hope to be in ‘esperantujo’ again.
The young Zamenhof was touched by the unnecessary violence exhibited towards others who were different, the segregation. Having witnessed for the umpteenth time the beating dished out to a member of one group who strayed into another’s area, the young Zamenhof thought to himself that the situation would not have arisen had the two groups involved been able to talk to one another.
