englishman abroad, history

DNA Results

In my vainer and more self-important moments, I like to imagine that people read this blog. More than that, I pretend that they notice if I don’t post for a while, as I have not done for about two months now. “What’s that mad Englishman who got stuck in Europe up to?” they might wonder. “Did he ever go to Lush again? Does he still have that Dad-belly?” they’ll muse.

Well, yes, The Dad-belly is still with me. I never did go to Lush again (yet) as I’ve moved out of Oldenburg and into a much smaller town. The house is taking up plenty of my time, which is why this blog has been neglected for so long. I also got my DNA results.

To recap, I recently applied for a British passport for my daughter, and the whole process got me interested in my genealogy just a little bit. I remember being at school and my mate Robert teasing me that I must be Greek because I had skin a little darker than his, he also used to joke that my nose must be fake because it was absolutely ginormous. A Corporal once told me I had hair like a boar. I thought about these and similar comments over the years as I waited for the DNA results to come back. Could I be Greek? Could I be part Jewish, as someone else suggested? Could I be part German, in some mad twist of fate? Was I distantly Irish, as my mother’s own family-tree research had suggested?

The answer was no, on most counts.

According to MyHeritage DNA, I am:

  • 7.4% Iberian (Spain/Portugal)
  • 22.3% English
  • 24.5% Irish, Scottish, Welsh
  • 45.8% Scandinavian (Sweden, Norway, Denmark)

Now I know you have to take these things with a pinch of salt, but I’m reasonably confident on the veracity of most of it.  Essentially, If it says I’m more than 20% something then there’s a fair chance there’s at least some something in me. The percentages don’t matter too much. Instead, the descriptors are the interesting point. And Iberian? Me?

No, de ninguna manera.

englishman abroad, history

DNA Test

Genealogy had never really interested me until recently. My mother has traced some of her side of the family into Wales, Devon and Ireland and my father-in-law has a proudly displayed family tree in the hallway. Still, he’s a farmer and there’s a palpable sense of history on the family farm, which has been passed down for generations. But what about me?

Like many people born in England, I just presumed that I was as English as the Anglo-Saxons and didn’t think any more about it. True, England was invaded thereafter by Vikings, Normans, Irish, Scots and several others, and the Anglo-Saxons were Germanic anyway (and preceded by the Romans) but whatever. I was English in England and that was that.

Last year I went through a lot of rigmarole in getting my daughter, Aurelia, a British passport in Brexit’s wake. I had to dive a couple of generations back to facilitate this, and call up the General Register Office and get all manner of old birth certificates. Including that of my Grandfather Steve.

It turns out that Grandad Steve, who I’ve never spoken to and has lived elsewhere as far as I can remember, wasn’t really called Steve. He had an absolutely nutty name that I won’t put on here. Just really bonkers and quite distinctive. Not typically “English”.

So I’ve decided to do some digging and see what comes up, so I’ve ordered one of those ‘test your DNA’ kits that so many genealogy sites are offering.  I’ve done some research and I know you have to take these things with a pinch of salt, there’s surely a margin of error etc. etc. Nonetheless, I’m curious as to what such a test might say.

It’s sitting on my dining room table right now and I’m going to send it off this week; there isn’t really an answer that I’m particularly hoping for or dreading.

englishman abroad

Passport Madness

I’m back from holiday and my skin is a healthy, flaky red. It’s amazing what a bit too much sun can do. Tenerife was full of Germans and English, with a scant sprinkling of Spaniards here and there.

Yesterday I decided to go time travelling.

In the year 2032 my daughter will be 20 and might want to travel to Great Britain (I hope it won’t have sunk to the bottom of the sea by then). What might she need to visit in the post-Brexit future? Maybe a British passport, so I tried to get her one. This is where the bureaucracy began.

I’ll say this for the Germans and their famed bureaucracy, there is at least a logic to it and the language is rather more straightforward. Here is what English bureaucracy and jargon looks like:

‘please provide the passport you entered the country from which you are applying’

That sentence gave me a migraine. I read it over and over again, sometimes aloud, sometimes in a whisper, sometimes adding gravitas and emphasis to certain words, sometimes weeping with frustration.

Do you think it means:

a) please provide your passport (the details of which you entered earlier)?

b) please provide your passport from the country you are applying from (i.e. a German passport)?

c) please provide the passport you want to renew?

Well guess what, I eventually called up the passport office and queried it. Apparently this unpunctuated, poorly written and inscrutable sentence means:

d) please provide the passport which you used to enter the country from which you are applying (Germany).

There’s also further jargon like: ‘not British by descent’ to contend with. Immigration law has changed so much in the UK that the law for attaining British citizenship depends on, amongst other things, whether you were born before 1983, after 1983 or after 1 July 2006. Yes, the last two seem to overlap.

The application also requires the applicant’s parents’ birth certificates, and their grandparents’ details. Of course, to get the grandparents’ birth certificates you’ll need to know about their parents, too. How, I ask you, was my daughter in 2032 supposed to know her great-grandmother’s maiden name? My Grandma is ancient!!

Getting hold of birth certificates is also quite a mess, I went onto the General Registry Office’s website and looked for my parents’ birth certificates. Thankfully they have a wide range of records spanning all the way from 1837!

…to 1916! Even my Grandma isn’t that ancient. Born after 1916? Too bad!

I decided to call the General Registry Office to get copies of the certificates needed. It turns out that calling them up and giving people dates and names doesn’t help much. The GRO apparently doesn’t have a database with this info. Everything is on paper, in ledgers, in local registry offices, all across the country. Which means that there is now a three-week period in which my query will be researched. If the GRO finds the birth certificates, they will be sent to me.

I swear, in a digital age this is utter madness. If I call up a business there might be a wait of about 30 seconds before the relevant information is found. Why does a government agency need to ‘research’ a query? You’d think the government would have the answer to “Was this person born in your country?”

Anyway, hopefully I’ll be able to get a reply soon and to send this application off.

As daft as this process has been, it would have been a lot harder to get it done in 2032.