The rich languages of our streets. Unknown accents and blunt throats, the flapping tongues and the slanging rhyme.
Home counties English, Irish Gaelic, Romanian, Slovakian and Polish. Urdu, Kurdish, Arabic and Somali. Pakistan, Bangladesh and Iraq. Cowcaddens, Bishopbriggs, Thornliebank.
The immigrant’s tale in every city. Unskilled jobs, minimum wage part time temporary labour. Living in crowded, dangerous, noisy neighbourhoods, with the most exotic fruit shops, the best takeaways and dozens of pubs.
Who else is going to work in our hot foam car washes, meat processing factories, warehouses, all-night restaurants and multi-storey car parks? Who will be the delivery drivers, cleaners, packers and crop pickers, except me and my fellow immigrants?
Cheers, global capitalism.