Why I don’t care about Brexit

So here we are: after nearly three years of ‘profound soul searching’ and ‘agonising’ discussions, the British nation is no closer to leaving the EU and the British people are sick to the back teeth of talking about it. I have noticed two things I thought worth writing about.

The ‘Migrant Crisis’

I have just come back from a few days in the 8^th district of Budapest. Though I was not there specifically to check out or get in involved with the migrant situation, there were things that I saw and people that I met, and those scenes were incredible. The major train stations in Hungary’s capital have become transit zones and in these and in parks, people have set up camp. The state has, belatedly, provided some running water and toilets – finally deciding to open a toilet that was there but long closed at Keleti station only after raging about the dirty habits of the people who have arrived. Volunteers abound, providing food, clothes and legal advice: some seemingly to mitigate the state’s lack of welcome by directing migrants to the internment camps or informing them that they are not allowed to travel on the trains; some trying to challenge state policy, recording stories of abuse, directing migrants to accommodation. Occasional far-right visitors come down to scream hysterically about the rape and murder that the refugees will bring. The UK, despite talk of swarms and floods, has made sure that numbers of arrivals are limited and refugees kept out of sight in detention centres and camps off the border such as those in Calais. In Budapest, the new arrivals are extremely visible.

Keleti Station, Budapest