Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Times Long Past

I wrote a blog a little while ago, about my first seven days in Scotland, and seven things I had learned over that time. Something did not feel right about that blog, so I put off posting it, telling myself it needed more editing. In the week since writing that post, I realized how much what I learned in the first week was wrong. Most of my first week of living in Glasgow was all me running around in circles, going out every night, going out every day, not studying, trying Haggis, trying blood pudding, going to museums, going to the cathedral. I forced pretty much every touristy thing there is to do here into my first week, and I have realized that in this second week I have been experiencing true Glasgow. The first week was touristing; the second week has simply been living. Yes, I will only be here for five months, and will not be anything close to a true Scot by the end of my time here, but for now, this beautiful country is home.

I have started to meet the real people of Scotland. I met a lady at a church I visited last Sunday who was from the Outer Hebrides, also known as the western isles (since then, I have met quite a few more people from the isles and the highlands). What struck me about her, is that while she is a citizen of the UK, and has lived in Glasgow for many years, she has this fierce loyalty to the place of her birth. First the Hebrides, then Scotland, and then, somewhere much further along the line, she is loyal to Britain, probably. It is a loyalty I do not have for Pennsylvania, where I make my home, or to Iowa, where I was born. While Americans do have a fierce and strong loyalty to their country, Scots have this divided loyalty that is equally strong. Where you are from says everything about you here. Lowlanders and highlanders are fiercely loyal to there place of origin. In fact, some of the lowlanders I have spoken to have no desire to even go to the highlands.


Last Friday night, I went to a Scottish Ceilidh, which is a traditional Scottish party, with dancing and music. I went not knowing much about ceilidhs, but when dancing the first dance, I realized most of the people there knew the steps like the back of their hand. Think Jane Austen meets western square dancing. When I talked to a couple from the outskirts of Glasgow they told me they could not remember a time when they could not dance those dances. I danced a few more times throughout the night (when I could find a Scottish partner who promised that he knew all the steps and would lead me), but I spent a lot of time on the sidelines, watching. (Yes, I was the Nick Carraway of this party. No I can never pass up a Gatsby reference.)


It is a conflicting feeling, to be asked to be a part of such an old tradition. It is both exhilarating and intimidating. No matter how many ceilidhs I go to, I will never know the steps the way many of those young people did. One of the things that sticks out to me about Scotland is that while in many ways their culture is very similar to American culture, they have a much older history. America has people from everywhere in the world, and most of us have our own cultures that are derived from the places our ancestors came from, but it's not the same as this Scottish heritage. Many of them are a part of clans who still have chiefs and special tartans. In fact, some of the boys at the ceilidh were wearing kilts, which fascinated me, as I do not know many boys at home who would be secure enough in their manhood to wear what is, in essence, a plaid skirt. But the men here do not look feminine when wearing kilts. They are upholding a proud tradition, and there is no shame to be found in that.


My favorite part of the ceilidh was the end, after the last dance. We all stood in a circle, held hands, and sang "Auld Lang Syne" together. If I felt like an outsider before, that all faded away in that moment. As a fervent advocate of singing in the New Year with "Auld Lang Syne," (no Americans ever want to help me) this was probably my favorite moment of my time here thus far. Holding the hands of strangers, I felt oddly close to them. But I could not help but think of my family and friends across the pond as I sang the words Robert Burns' penned so many years ago.


"Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne!

"For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne."


I can never listen to or sing this song without a feeling of nostalgia rising up inside of me. When I was looking into the history and the importance of the song, I came upon this quote, which pretty well captured my feelings about this song. "'Auld Lang Syne' is one of Scotland's gifts to the world, recalling the love and kindness of days gone by, but in the communion of taking our neighbours' hands, it also gives us a sense of belonging and fellowship to take into the future." (http://www.scotland.org/features/the-history-and-words-of-auld-lang-syne/)


That is what I am learning here. I am befriending many more people than I do at home, and making all kinds of memories. And, just like I am not forgetting home, I know I will not forget these moments. In a few years I will probably be sitting at a kitchen table not so unlike the one I am sitting at now, with a cup of coffee, reminiscing about my time in Scotland. The thing I know I will remember the most is the relationships and friendships I built here. "Auld Lang Syne" means "times long past" but it encapsulates the feeling of every stage of this life I am living, and the way each stage is wound together, making me the person I am and the person I will be in 5, 10, 25 years.


It's hard to believe I have been here for two and a half weeks! The first week was so jam-packed it felt like a month, but now things have slowed down and I am getting into a consistent rhythm. Scottish life is becoming everyday life, but yes, sometimes I still have to take a minute to stop and marvel at the fact that I am really here. I have this conflicting feeling of wanting these five months to be over quickly so I can go home, back to the familiar, but also wanting them to slow down.


On a different topic, does anyone have any tips on growing herbs? I bought a basil plant, and it promptly decided to wilt into a sad little green pile. I think I have mostly saved it, with a lot of watering and sunlight, but it still wilts at times. Speaking of sunlight, it has not rained in over two weeks. I was led to believe it would rain nearly every day! I like the sun as much as the next person, but my melancholy side wants the rain it was promised.


From now on, I'm going to try to post a blog every Sunday. This may or may not happen, but I need some kind of motivation.


Cheers, 


Carrie

5 comments:

  1. This blog makes me miss you! Its amazing to see some of what you've been learning! Cherish every moment!! <3

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Kara, you are too sweet. And I miss you. I hope you're not in the Dominican when I get home!

      Delete
  2. I like how your love of life and your genuine interest in the Scott's shows up in your writing. Well done sis and make blogging a habit.

    ReplyDelete
  3. It was so good to "hear" from you Carrie! :) I love to read your writing and look forward to your posts! May you continue to enjoy your part of the country that God created, and may you continue to lead & guide you each step of the way. Hugs to you :)

    ReplyDelete