One of the random punters who came down the street exhibition happened to come from Melbourne, Australia - not so unusual because many many Aussies come to Brick Lane - but he was Jewish and he's even gone to my Zionist Youth Movement. Very wierd because it was never a particularly big movement, not having that much history, and being associated with Reform Judaism. The reason he stopped was because of my last name. He asked me whether I had any relatives called Marty Jelinek. I said I didn't think so.
He was much younger than me so we didn't know anyone in common but I really enjoyed chatting. He was familiar to me. It was a 'taste of home'. But at the same time as enjoying it, I remembered the claustrophobic feeling I had when I lived in Melbourne - such a wierd mixture of nostalgia and repulsion.