Culture clash?

I have to confess that my heart sank a bit when I heard that Ikea was opening in Bangkok. I wondered, what would be the point of living in a different country if everything in it were the same as everywhere else?

But it’s also true that I’d grumbled when I couldn’t find the right plastic clip things to seal bags – the ones where the hinge didn’t ping open when I’d squidged too much plastic inside - (Why is it that all the big ones disappear but not the little ones?) And hadn’t I, a few years back, whined all the way to Wembley’s Ikea to purchase those cheap, but really good, scissors in packs of three for next to nothing. It had seemed so necessary at the time: I simply must drive forty miles to get three packs of scissors or my life in Bangkok really won’t be worth living *in a Celia Johnson accent…*

In the end Ikea’s opening at the beginning of November was something of a damp squib; it’s thunder stolen by the floods. I’d been evacuated so I’ve no idea if there was the kind of hysteria prompted by the opening of Uniqlo or Krispy Kreme doughnuts but I suspect not.

I was intrigued by the difference in cultures too. Thailand is proud of its service culture; but hadn’t my experience of Wembley’s Ikea been a bit different? Hadn’t they carefully cultivated a snarl-in-welcome and a not-giving-a-tossness about customers? In a land where I don’t even need to go to the bar to get a drink, would they leave me to clear my own table after my Swedish meatballs? (Not that we shouldn’t…) Would I understand anything? Would the labels be just in Thai and Swedish? With product names like ‘obskropt’ would it matter?

I’ve been meaning to go. You can always do with more plastic clips, right? And long-term readers will know that one of my personal mottos is that ‘one can never have too many pairs of scissors.’ Last week, after a crack of dawn meeting at school and with no other plans, I decided I’d go…

These were my findings:

·  I could have been in Wembley

· The staff, though scarce, do care about the customer

· After six years of Thai food, Swedish meatballs are disgusting

· The girl in the restaurant couldn’t bear for me to have to put away my own tray

· The scissors; where were the scissors?

Why? WHY?

There a great mystery at the Towers – that’s where I live. And no, it’s not who’s finished the milk: that was bloomin’ Son. Any chance of a second cup of tea just disappeared into a gargantuan bowl of Cheerios with the deep but no less whiney tones of ‘There was hardly any left! Anyway, you’ve had a cup of tea.’ Yes, I had just had a cup of tea and there was over half a pint remaining. And, it’s 6 *lots of filthy language inside my head* AM in the morning. I NEED several cups of tea.

So no, there’s no mystery there: just a horrible, physical dependency worthy of the Priory and a ‘thinks only of himself’ teenage person.

The mystery then… What’s the whodunit?

Where have all the scissors gone?

I’ve always been crafty – that’s not to say that I would have finished the milk and lied about it… not as in deceitful or guileful – but that I made things. Remember I was a sculptor in a former life? Now, decent tools (as well as a second cup of tea) are essential to the sanity of someone who ‘makes.’ I do have to confess to a certain obsessiveness when it comes to scissors. I blame my Mum for that. Scissors are a little bit like lip salve - I have to have them everywhere. You have no idea when you might need ­them. It’s most important that there’s a decent pair, a pair that actually cuts rather than abuses, to hand.

Ikea used to sell a pack of three scissors: one large two smaller. I think I kept the Wembley store afloat by the number of these three packs I bought. They were dirt cheap and they cut and continued to cut until a child or stupid person (sometimes I was that person) got them gunked up with nasty stuff and after that they’d creak open and not cut cleanly. They’ve always gone walkabout but without the ability to buy another packet or three, they just seem to disappear into thin air.

It’s true that I do have two large pairs on my desk (I am toying with attaching a chain to them so that they can’t wander) but I have just unearthed this small yellow handled pair in Daughter’s room. Hmmm.