The picture here is unrelated, just a film photograph of mine to give the post a thumbnail.
It took me a while to think of what the earliest cultural memory would be. I think the vast majority of noticeable cultural differences I've witnessed and experienced have come to me much later in life. Though upon a bit of reflection, I did notice a few remaining memories of my childhood in which I noticed those differences in cultural, whether it was through those around me or through the introduction of international cinema. The latter being something I've mentioned before here on Hive but will briefly dive into again later on. I grew up in a smaller town in England which was already far gone, witnessing its economic decline and total lack of, well, anything. It was a town that produced nothing. Attempted to grow nothing. And relied heavily on its Roman history for any sense of pride.
The economic decay meant a lot of abandoned buildings. Old hospitals. Shopping areas in the very town centre that to this day somehow remain empty. The town centre was a place of depression. Sure, there was a cinema there, but as I grew up, a new giant would close its doors for the last time. And sooner than later were replaced with very seasonal cheap shops. I never really liked living there. I never felt any emotional attachment to the space. The only reason a person would move there was for work in one of the nearby remaining hospitals, things funded by the UK's NHS. I remember making friends with a kid from school that was different. He had some sort of disability that made it harder for him to talk to others. I didn't know that his mother and mine worked in the same space until much later. They were friends but not the type of friends to really visit each other that often. His family were from Saudi Arabia and his mother was working in the healthcare industry.
At the time, England wasn't quite the boiling pot it now is regarding migration and different cultures. Nearby there was a shop owned by an Indian family, who almost felt like ghosts within the village because of how you never actually saw them outside anywhere. They really kept to themselves. I'd briefly notice the daughter on the bus sometimes but you'd never see her with anyone else nor would she ever say a word to anyone. Around the same time I would meet others from a different background that had moved with family to work in the NHS. I made friends with a kid from school that would teach me how to play basketball. We'd play every day and slowly but surely I got good enough for us both to play on the school team. His family, again relatively quiet and shut-off, would live in NHS-provided accommodation in a brutalist looking high-rise that actually remained on hospital grounds. I never really considered these people to be different; though I would take note of the fact that we weren't quite the same.
I think they remained closed off in an attempt to assimilate in their own ways. I think for them it felt strange to be in the UK and weren't quite sure what to do or expect from natives. Not that there was discrimination that caused them to become recluse, but more that they would find people of similar backgrounds to mostly spend their time with. Now that I'm older, I actually get it. Sometimes we would go to their homes it would look different. It would smell different. And it was clear that there were cultural differences that they wouldn't mention. Upon entering the homes of these places, the most evident difference being the intensity of the smell from cooking. Herbs and spices that, while we still had and used in our own dishes from time to time, certainly weren't used to the same degree. This became a bit of a stereotype for such groups.
To add, the general types of clothing were significantly different. While the children would wear something a bit more regular for the UK and wouldn't seem that unique, the parents would still embrace their more traditional clothing. This is something that has changed a lot more in recent times. Parents now just dress in whatever they like and seems fashionable. But back then I have these more distinct memories of their parents having more traditional clothing. Different types of patterns and clothes that, back then, I would've considered pyjamas. It's interesting how our minds react to such things as children. How we don't quite understand the cultural differences in people. Growing up, especially now that I'm more travelled, I feel more sympathy for such people. To see how difficult it must be to be in a new place that is so different to what you've always known. Where even something as clothing makes you stand out to the rest. The extra attention it would bring.
It's interesting that all these years later, now living in such a unique country where the culture is so vastly different to everything I've known, I am experiencing the same things those families once did. Learning to adapt. Dressing differently. Having to assimilate to the culture while still obviously standing out with things like language differences. Trying to find a new life within that space where everyone naturally will see you in a different light.