Drunken Scotland

No longer in use. Please see new site, www.columbiacritic.blogspot.com

Friday, February 25, 2005

As an obsessive lover of music--not any specific type, era, or style--I often find it nearly impossible to explain why I like or dislike a certain song to friends. Since they can't understand that a song just "sounds" right or doesn't, what more is there to say if they cannot understand me by listening to the song? Over the past year though, I have had some recourse from my frustration. Nick Hornby, whose praises I will continue to sing until after he has stopped writing, released a gem in 2003 called Songbook/31 Songs, in which he published a series of short essays explaining and analyzing his love for 31 songs. Speaking of his most-listened to song, Bruce Springsteen's Thunder Road, he writes about the last time he had listened to the song: "yes, I was in a car, although I probably wasn't driving, and I certainly wasn't driving down any turnpike or highway or freeway, and the wind wasn't blowing through my hair, because I possess neither a convertible nor hair. It's not that version of Springsteen." It's hard to understand the joy one takes in reading a passage like this when it is placed out of context with the rest of the writing, but regardless, passages like this help the reader understand that his take on music is not a critical examination of the merits of music, but a subjective study of how the music makes you feel, what the artists may have been thinking, who influenced them, and most importantly, is this music that was made out of a pure and simple love of music-making? Needless to say, I recommend reading Songbook to anyone, along with all his other books: Fever Pitch (his famous soccer-loving memoir), High Fidelity, About a Boy, Speaking to An Angel (a compilation with Dave Eggers and others for charity), and How to be Good (a novel about the devil, angels, and life; good, but not as good as his other stuff). His new novel will be out in May, and I shall be rushing to buy it despite not having a clue what it is about.

But all this rambling came about because I just reread an essay he wrote in May for the New York Times about rock and roll music and his favorite band, Marah, who soon became one of my favorite bands after listening to them. Their CDs, especially the newest, 20,000 Streets Under the Sky, are pure rock and roll, with roots that are traceable back decades to blues, folk, and Elvis. Asked to describe them in one sentence by a friend, I told him "Philadelphia's answer to Bruce Springsteen's earliest forays into rock music (a la The Wild, the Innocent, and the E-Street Shuffle)".

And check out Marah. Hell, just check out good rock music. And check out Nick Hornby. This is a guy who got shortlisted for the National Book Award for his writings on music. And oh yeah, he thinks "Hey Ya!" is a great song for more than just its catchiness. I leave you with his comments:

"In truth, I don't care whether the music sounds new or old: I just want it to have ambition and exuberance, a lack of self-consciousness, a recognition of the redemptive power of noise, an acknowledgment that emotional intelligence is sometimes best articulated through a great chord change, rather than a furrowed brow. Outkast's brilliant "Hey Ya!," a song that for a few brief months last year united races and critics and teenagers and nostalgic geezers, had all that and more; you could hear Prince in there, and the Beatles, and yet the song belonged absolutely in and to the here and now, or at least the there and then of 2003."

Here is a link to the NY Times article, which makes for an excellent read (much more fun than one of those horrendous "defense of neo-con policy" op-eds that are written by the like of Richard Perle).
Link

Thursday, February 24, 2005

Snow, snow everywhere, hey look, snow in my hair!

For the third day in a row, it is snowing in Edinburgh. None of it seems to stick for long, but that doesn't stop it from coming down heavily at times. Looking out the window from the 8th floor of the Adam Ferguson Building yesterday, I was privy to a breathtaking view. Arthur's Seat, the cliff/hill/mountain thingy outside Hollyrood Park, was blanketed in snow. Laying at its foot were an array of old Scottish buildings all blanketed with a fine layer of powder, further enhancing the quaintness of that section of the city. Were it not for the lack of smoke and smog I would have been convinced I had been transplanted to Dickensian London.

While it remains rather cold here, and the ground is often slushy, I really can't complain. I have heat in my room, a fridge full of chicken and pork waiting to be cooked, many good books to read instead of doing my homework, and oh yes, there was a snowman on the front steps of the University library this morning. That certainly brightened my mood.

Tonight is my first ceilidh. A ceilidh (pronounced "kaley") is, as far as I can tell, some very simple sort of traditional Scottish dance that has you following simple steps called out by some announcer (making it the evil Scottish cousin of line dancing and square dancing). Luckily, they are plying us with a "welcome drink" and dinner before they demand that we set our feet a-tapping, so I'm praying that this will not be a nite where everyone realizes that Brian cannot follow more than 2-3 directions at a time before becoming hopelessly confused. I remember the last time I tried to do the hokey pokey. Five people died. It was horrible.

Sunday, February 20, 2005

Off to Glasgow for the Electric Six concert ...

Saturday, February 19, 2005

Well I'll be damned. The Shins video for their song "new slang" (featured in Garden State, winner of the Grammy for best compilation sdtrk) follows a kid around as he wanders my fair home of Portland. How cool.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Looking back, it's been a long time since I've posted anything other than a "mission report," and while I feel like I need to give the landmarks their due, these posts really havent been about me or the University of Edinburgh as much. Of course, it is easier to write about trips--everything is new and different, and the lazy writer does not lack in source material or photographs.

Life in Edinburgh itself has not transpired to become a montage of exciting sights and sounds--which I should have realized. Even when you travel to a foreign country, your natural tendencies exert themselves eventually. If you like to relax, you arent going to work your ass off; if you arent an enthusiastic adventurer at home, being abroad generally wont change your entire lifestyle, especially when you end up in a country not that obviously different from your own. So I don't explore a new part of Edinburgh every day, I have yet to visit the waterfront community of Leith, dear god, I havent even been to the castle yet. Instead, I've enjoyed myself in ways I often forget in New York--sleeping in, learning a new sport, trying new food (had haggis last nite, it was delicious), and most importantly, reading for fun. Reading has always been a hobby of mine, and as I remembered this summer, when I read both the collected detective stories of Arthur Conan Doyle (Sherlock Holmes) and of Raymond Chandler (Philip Marlowe, amont other characters), I can devour books that pique my interest. So I've been reading constantly here: Dickens books (Great Expectations, David Copperfield, Tale of Two Cities thus far; Hard Times and Bleak House to come) and the short stories of the original creater of the "private eye," Dashiell Hammett. Am I missing out on a lot of the life here? Yes, unfortunately. Am I wasting my time? I think not.

One of the greatest things I have discovered here, which goes contrary to everything I previously believed, is that it IS possible for me to hang out often with the same group of people and enjoy myself. Columbia had me convinced that there were only certain individuals I could stand for prolonged periods, not groups; yet here I am, spending nearly all my time with some combination of Dominique (Loyola-New Orleans), Ben (Bowdoin), Ben (Wisconsin), Natalia (Johns Hopkins), Nick (Wesleyan), Adam (Williams), and my flatmates Tom, Jenny, and Dave. A quirkier, more eccentric group I have never known, and I wouldnt be surprised if this coherence exists only because of the pressures of being strangers in a strange land (ach! try the haggis and blood pudding!), but nonetheless, I dont tire of these friends. With none of us that busy, we have tried a bit of everything together: eating, drinking (a lot), exploring, and often just lounging around watching The Simpsons and Family Guy. The positive nature of my whole experience has depended in large part on these folks, and I'm thankful I met them when I did.



This is a picture of Dominique, Ben, Nick and I...


A bit of news: unable to escape my roots, I've joined the student newspaper here, a weekly aptly and boringly titled "Student." I guess the name "Newspaper" was already taken. In a weird joining together of worlds, my friend Katy Steinmetz, who I met way back in freshmen year at Columbia, is the Features editor here, since she has already been studying abroad here for a semester (small word indeed). So I've used my "connections" to already write an article, which will be running in a week or two. The topic? The Facebook. yes, folks, even the UK has begun to see the spread of Mark Zuckerberg's creation. As my fraternity brother Steve Hofstetter, a CU alumnus, is a comedian who is aiming for 100,000 friends on Facebook (he has 70,000), I of course felt obligated to interview him. I'll post that short, 600-word article here when it pops online eventually.

Ever since picking up a copy of Men's Health to read on the airplane flight out here in early January, I've oddly, in the country of haggis and fried Mars Bars, gone on a health kick. My diet now is a lot of eggs, chicken, etc.; I'm taking whey protein and creatine; and i'm doing some sort of workout 5-6 days a week. The paradox has set my head-a-spinning. Let's just pray that I can keep this level of fitness up back in New York next year, because the honest truth is that I havent physically or mentally felt so good in a long time.

I'm sure I could ramble on forever, but since I don't write these posts JUST to read my own words, but to actually share my experience, I'll leave off for now so that the length of this thing doesnt scare everyone away.

Cheers,
Brian

Monday, February 14, 2005

Green Day, the Garden State sdtrk, and Jon Stewart have all picked up Grammys. Good times.

Sunday, February 13, 2005

Anyone want to edit my history paper? :-)
------------------
Q1. To what extent did Chartism represent a challenge to established political structures in Scotland?

The Chartist movement grew out of displeasure amongst those still left disenfranchised after the 1832 Reform Act and their realization that the working men and women of Britain were still as powerless as they had ever been. Their response, the People’s Charter, first presented by the London Working Men’s Association and drawn up by prominent reformers William Lovett and Francis Place in May 1838, would become with its Six Points the would become the rallying and unifying point for a movement that was often in danger of splintering over policy or leadership decisions . Yet for all the actions of the Chartists, this supposedly British movement had decidedly different flavors in each country of the British Isles, and even developing unevenly within countries , though it was a national movement. This paper will focus on the Scottish Chartist movement, addressing the question of its impact on the established political structures in Scotland. Did the Chartists change the shape of politics both at home and in the broader Empire? The answer that will be explained in the following pages is that Scottish Chartism, even more so than English Chartism, had a minimal short-term effect on the political status quo of Scotland due to its structure, policies, and nature, and that its largest effect, as also seen in England, was to encourage the eventual creation of a class consciousness and an increasing political consciousness among the working people of Scotland:
We may not be producing great effects upon the government [concluded the Scottish Patriot], but we are forming a character for the people which they have never before possessed—making them intelligent by instruction, and moral by inculcating the principles of total abstinence … Universal Suffrage has now been carried from the public arena into the domestic hearth of the working classes. It has become a part of the social character of the people. It is associated with their amusements. It has become identified with their religion .

The first question to be addressed is what exactly is Chartism, and how does Scottish Chartism stand apart from the English Chartism that defined common perception of the system on behalf of contemporaries, who saw Chartism for the novel and threatening social character of the movement, an uprising of the working classes who would take away the right to property. It was seen not as a political movement but as a social phenomenon . Chartism in its most basic form was a political movement that began to develop around the notion of gaining “the vote,” as E.P. Thompson put it , in order to gain the ability to address economic problems confronting the working classes. The movement, while gaining a strong backing due to the poor economic conditions, was assuredly not a wholly economic response—while “the political message of Chartism did find its readiest, most widespread and most violent responses in years of business depression and high bread prices” , support among working-class Scots actually declined during 1842, when many people were just trying to survive the economic downturn .

The Six Points that would serve as the focal point of all Chartist activities were: “Manhood Suffrage, Annual Parliaments, the Ballot, Payment of MPs, Equal Electoral Districts, and the Abolition of the Property Qualifications for Parliament” . Adherence to these points, wrote Gareth Stedman Jones, held the movement together despite its national character invoking regional differences . At the time, the idea of universal suffrage as a right was not invoked—Chartists wanted the vote so that they could elect individuals who would address their concerns, thus, Chartism was not ultimately an end, but a means to an end . Were it merely an economic movement, as many historians have argued, surely it would have been less hostile to economic reforms that could bring short term relief, like the actions pursued by the Anti-Corn Law League. “Only political reform,” the Chartists believed, “would alter a system where law could be corrupted and where law was monopolized by those who held political power” . Scottish Chartism dated back to April 10, 1938, when the Birmingham Political Union’s leader, MP Thomas Atwood, introduced the People’s Charter and the National Petition to a crowd of tens of thousands in Glasgow . Within a year, there were 76 Chartist or Radical Reform associations in Scotland , though the primary foci of the movement could be found in the “central valley of Scotland and the east coast lowlands … with the Glasgow area predominating” .

Scottish Chartism, from the start, was an outside-motivated movement, with the upticks in activity often being traceable to barnstorming tours across the country by prominent Chartists like Feargus O’Connor, who operated primarily out of England . Yet, there was little original motivation within Scotland, as “the prospects that local political leaders would be forthcoming and that political associations would continue to function were not in fact very promising. Very largely they depended on the progress of the National Petition campaign in England” . Even so, there was a highly Scottish tinge to Chartism that developed after the initial birth of the movement in 1838—the Scottish love of organization led to the cropping up of various side movements that may not have aided the political aims of Chartism, but did contribute to the creation of a tight-knit Chartist community. This “found expression in the social reformist offshoots of the agitation, in the Chartist co-operative movement, the Chartist temperance movement and the Christian Chartist church movement” .

So distant from Westminster both politically and location-wise, Scottish Chartism grew up with a stronger focus on social means than political means. Lacking their own Parliament, the Scots could hardly exert the same degree of political pressure as the English; in addition, the Scots’ extreme reluctance to declare an intention of violent struggle served to alleviate any fears the government might have.

While Scottish Chartism was in part a reaction to the “rapid growth of industry and of population, and the urbanization and concentration of that population, especially in the areas around the coalfields of central Scotland” , the Scottish Chartists lacked the same degree of popular backing due to several conditions. Several historians have laid out a list of reasons for the lesser degree of hostility in Scotland, foremost among them Hamish Fraser. He points out that many of the middle-class in Scotland, especially the skilled workers, weren’t enfranchised due to lower rent prices existing in Scotland; that none of the Scottish working class, unlike their English counterparts, were actually disenfranchised by the 1832 Reform Act; due to these two facts, there was less of a feeling of betrayal by the middle class; due to the later date of industrialization, industrial unrest existed to a much smaller degree; unlike England, there was no 1834 Poor Law passage in Scotland; and the conservative nature of Scottish Liberalism, as well as the religious and moral convictions of many Scots, meant that Scotland was already better-prepared to move onto the paternalism of the Victorian era, where Scottish Liberals would feel obligated not to respect the wishes of the working-class, but to look after them as ones who were not able to support themselves . There was little questioning among the Scottish mainstream as to whether the system of political representation was itself unjust, as the Chartists claimed.

The question of Chartism’s influence on the established political structures of Scotland is not a tough one to provide a crude answer too. In the short run, there were no changes evidenced by the Chartist actions. Few local officials were elected as Chartists, Feargus O’Connor was the only Chartist ever elected as such to Parliament, going in 1847 for Nottingham , and many published accounts of Chartism gloss over Scotland’s role in the political agitations, focusing instead on the rise of alternative institutions such as Chartist churches. This points much more to the socially transformative effect that the Scottish Patriot hinted at in the earlier quote—Chartism’s greatest effect, both in Scotland and England, was to raise political consciousness and activism in an excluded group that had previously existed nearly outside of the system as far as politicians were concerned. While the MPs at Westminster were able to vote down numerous appeals to consider the National Petition, people both inside and outside of Parliament were no longer ignorant of the demand for universal suffrage. MP Benjamin Disraeli, who argued for the consideration of the Charter , would later, as a Conservative Prime Minister, pass the second Reform Act in 1867 , greatly expanding the electorate once again, and paving the way for further expansions of suffrage.

But even with this explanation, why exactly did Chartism in Scotland fail to create political change or challenge the established structure, when the reformers of 1832 were able to pursue a similar goal and achieve a degree of success? Chartism in Scotland failed to make an immediate impact due to its inability to become a truly popular movement or be viewed as such, the fluidity of its membership, its unwillingness to make physical threats, and most importantly, because of the structure of the entire movement, which was unsuited to achieving the task at hand given the circumstances at the time.

Edward Royle points out that, “Chartism was not, then, a popular movement at all, and certainly not a popular political movement. The mass of the people was largely indifferent to, or oblivious of, the efforts of the Chartist leaders” . Among those uninvolved were the middle class activists who had been so crucial in lending respectability to the Reformists, as well as crucial groups like the Irish, who had been involved in “pre-Chartist radical movements,” but sat out this struggle . Without the middle class respectability, it was much more difficult for the Chartists to win over the masses, for “fear and dislike of government extremism was counterbalanced by anxiety about the threatening and potentially insurrectionary character of Chartist discontent. The electorate therefore voted for a strong government promising to maintain and protect existing institutions” . The uninvolvement of the Irish, who were 4.8 percent of Scotland’s population and primarily working-class , was caused in large part by the opposition to the Chartists by MP Daniel O’Connell, the most prominent Irish politician, who detested the violent language of O’Connor Chartists and believed that a Chartist Parliament would do no more to advance the cause of Irish Home Rule than would the current Whig government that O’Connell was allied with .

Along with the lack of mass involvement came a lack of coverage of Chartism by the mainstream Scottish media. When the People’s Charter was introduced in Glasgow, the local media barely noticed anything more than the number of people who had turned out . Chartism was mainly covered in Chartists newspapers with smaller circulations and shorter lives , and despite the support of the Scots Times in Glasgow for universal suffrage, its support led to little in the way of actual coverage. Among other papers like The Scotsmen, the Chartists were viewed as an alarming threat or nuisance that deserved little attention .

Secondly, the same fluidity of the membership that led Radicals to become Reformers and Reformers to become Chartists highlighted the greatest weakness of Chartism: it could be merged with other movements . Chartism relied on the assumption that real reform was not possible unless the system was reformed; but when movements like the Anti-Corn Law League began to agitate for reform within the system, weaknesses in this system supporting absolute change quickly became apparent . Additionally, while tensions began to occur between those who were willing to consider gradual change (which was very popular in Scotland ) and those who would live only for the Charter and nothing else, the government became more immune to the Chartists. “What is certain, however, is that government policy became less and less vulnerable to radical critique as the 1840s wore on, while the coherence of radicalism became increasingly blurred” .

Thomas Atwood, MP, reminded Glasgow men that their “motto was ‘Peace, law, order, loyalty, and union’. Under these banners ‘the people possess a giant’s strength. But if they once abandon them, they become but an infant in a giant’s hand’.”

The lack of physical threat on the part of the Scottish Chartists—“for if the term ‘physical force Chartism’ were to be applied only to those who believed that violent measures would be required if they were ever to gain the demands of the Charter, then it would be difficult to find more than a handful of ‘physical force Chartists’ in Scotland” —meant that the Chartists, lacking any respectable allies with political power or wealth, were forced to apply pressure through the power of petitions alone. Andrew Wilson pointed out that, “There had never been any danger of widespread Chartist insurrection in Scotland” , and while not all Scots were willing to rule out the use of force, no sizeable group ever came to the consensus that the country was prepared for the “ulterior measures” which would require substantial organizational strength . A rift appeared between the English and Scottish delegates to the 1839 General Convention when O’Connor’s followers began to advocate violent conflict, with John Taylor recommending that people begin to stockpile weaponry . Several delegates, including Patrick Matthew and W.S. Villiers Sankey, resigned, with Sankey declaring that, “The people of Scotland were too calm, too prudent, and too humane to peril this cause upon bloodshed” . The official policy of many Scots was “peaceably if we may, forcibly if we must” , but the life of the movement was such that this policy was never seriously considered in Scotland.

The paradox of the Chartist movement, especially in Scotland, was that it acted like a 20th century pressure group, run by an elite group and depending on the voice of the people to lend it credence through the signatures on the National Petitions, but it did so when the exact problem it was addressing was the unresponsiveness of Parliament to the voice of the people. If Parliament wouldn’t listen before, a few million signatures from the people it wasn’t listening to wouldn’t lead to a second Reform movement. “The Chartists did not … simply represent the logical extension of a political theory accepted in 1832: they represented a new world which the old was not yet ready to receive” . The lack of threat of force lessened the consequence of ignoring their demands, and since “Chartism was an extra-parliamentary pressure group operating outside the traditional political world” . Royle, who has most clearly addressed this issue, judged that the moral force argument of soft persuasion that predominated in Scotland “now appears singularly naïve, for it failed to appreciate the nature of the parliamentary world and the real reason for the middle-class success in 1832. For, although the ‘people’, as the source of labour and producers of wealth, were at least as much an economic fact in the life of the country as were the middle-class manufacturers of 1832, the ruling class in Parliament did not see the matter in this light. The manufacturers were held to represent the whole manufacturing interest, and sufficient of them already had the vote to persuade the existing country interest of the need for reform” .

While it cannot be said that Chartism failed to arouse consciousness of the desire for universal suffrage, it failed to galvanize activity in the decades to come. While there was an obvious increase in political activity and knowledge among the working-class Chartists, the failure of Chartism to alter the established governmental structures in Scotland and Britain as a whole was indicative of its inability to gain respectable support, galvanize mass movements on a larger scale than seen, control the media coverage, or pressure the government through threats of uprising.

Friday, February 11, 2005

Yes Virginia, there ARE crazy people out there making crazy music videos:

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/numanuma.html

Monday, February 07, 2005

“BROTHERS AND SISTERS ARE NATURAL ENEMIES…LIKE ENGLISHMEN AND SCOTS. OR WELSHMEN AND SCOTS. OR JAPANESE AND SCOTS. OR SCOTS AND OTHER SCOTS. DAMN SCOTS! THEY RUINED SCOTLAND!” –GROUNDSKEEPER WILLY
After a week of the past, I'm finally starting to update this site with current events and happenings in my life. This morning I trekked up, despite the chilly and overcast weather, to Arthur's Seat, the 800+ ft. tall peak standing at the edge of Holyrood Park. It was a splendidly good time, with the paths being half-existent and the views, despite the clouds, simply stunning.

I had barely reached the base of the Seat when I was sidetracked by the ruins of St. Anthony's Chapel, which stood on a ledge 100 ft or so off the ground. Only part of one side was remaining, but you could easily imagine the breathtaking view that the Chapel must have commanded in the 15th century when most of Edinburgh didn't exist and the eye, on a clear day, could see rolling green hills and small lakes multiplying for miles.



From that point, I could look down at the small lake that was home to dozens of ginormous geese, which I have previously seen hopping on the roofs of parked cars and strutting around. I mean, dear lord, I felt obliged to mouth to myself, "do the geese have large talons?" Because those things, even from a distance, were certainly not as innocent-looking as their American counterparts.

Up until I actually started climbing up the hills leading to the Seat I had been listening to the sheer genius of "Mitch All Together," the second album from comedy genius Mitch Hedberg. This really is a massive digression, but if you havent heard this guy do stand-up, you haven't heard shit (well, you've quite possibly heard a lot of shit, or shite as we say here, but that's beside the point).

From St. Anthony's I began the gradual climb to the top--all the way I could see my destination and the people crawling along the ridge like so many oddly-shaped ants with pets (i'm stretching here, i know). Along the way I often found myself watching my feet so as to avoid any embarrassing spills in the mud or on the rocks that composed parts of the paths. And by paths I often mean places where the grass was trampled down. The joyous part of trekking around Scottish landmarks is that the rules regarding people, at least for the present, are greatly relaxed in comparison to the US's general policies of "STAY ON THE PATH, MOTHERFUCKER!" So the options here are more relaxed, kind of like the Scot's in general: "Oh I say, good chap, here is a nice concrete path. But indeed, if you prefer the road less-traveled, take it by all means! What is that, you want to trample on some nice roses to create your own path? Why, that's simply splendid!"

It took me quite awhile to get to the top, because I stopped to take pictures of every amazing view (i even tried doing a timed photo of myself at St. Anthony's Chapel--you can see how that turned out when i post it. Needless to say, I've never looked so small, off-center, and crooked.



The arrival at the top was rather anticlimactic, seeing as the hike is not designed to kill you, maim you, or eat your first child. It is in general a family-friendly hill/mountain/thingy with a cool name. Arthur's Seat. it rolls off the tongue like "Merlin's Stool" or "Guinevere's Bosom". But the view, oh la la. I felt like an omnipotent being with cataracts, as everything was made cloudy by the overcast weather. But despite the chill of the morning, I stood there and just stared. Eventually I asked two people behind me to take a picture, so my mommy could have a nice picture of her son on a not-so-tall peak. As these sort of requests often do, this one led to a whole series of introductions to these two and their friends, all students from Saginaw Valley College in Michigan who were studying in England for the semester. After a nice chat where one of them used me to prove his point that I don't pronounce my home state "Orygun," I invited them all to join me and all the hundreds of people who pack into The Globe, the local sports pub, for the Super Bowl, that night at 11:30 pm, when we finally had kickoff.



On the way back down, I decided to take the "treacherous" shorter route, which involved picking your way along broken rocks for 20 mins, only to find that path left me on the wrong side of the Seat. All that I could do was circle the Seat again on the "safe" trail that was more like a small road than anything else. So I popped on the soothing words of Mitch Hedberg again and walked till my feet hated me. But the adventure in itself was enjoyable, and the views were amazing. I couldnt help, in my pop culture-addled brain, of thinking about the title of a CD put out by the pop-jazz group The Bad Plus, "These Are The Vistas." They certainly were up there on top of Arthur's Seat.



Cheers!

Friday, February 04, 2005

Ah yes. To bring the account of my homestay to its final resting place, I must now conjure up poetry to fill the ears, honey-soaked words that describe the beauty of ... Aberdeen. Sadly, though, such visual imagery would not be appropriate, for Aberdeen, while being at times picturesque, was not a city to inspire great novels or fantastical paintings. Yet there was a certain aura of history to it that seized the imagination--and while we were stuck behind the lines of cars and tour buses pouring into Aberdeen for the day's football (that's soccer to us Americans, which came from the word "as(soc)iation"), we had plenty of time to look around. The day was windy, as many winter days here are, and the sea was dark and forebidding, with only a few brave idiots in wetsuits trying to venture past the surf.



We started our tour on the University of Aberdeen campus, where Calum's ancestors once owned about half the land. One house, Powis House, is named in honor of his ancestor who once lived there. The campus was very traditionally made laid out, with the new and old intermingling. The charming cobblestoned roads, which can turn an ankle or snap the heel of a woman's shoe, only added to the atmosphere of antiquity. The weather was drizzly and dreary, so we made short work of the campus, stopping to take a gander at the main quad, a Ottoman Empire-inspired parapet gate, and a few other oddities.



Moving on from there, we spent the rest of our visit near the harbor, where we explored a quaint little fishing village. Some of the buildings in this small community that looked out upon departing tankers had doors shorter than myself. While I felt slightly self-conscious, I did not restrict myself from peering into window after window, inadvertantly disturbing at least one occupant, who looked less surprised than stuck in a perpetual state of peevishness over the constant intrusions. Close the window shades, I say, but who listens to an American?



And with that trip coming to an end with a return into Aberdeen, we popped out of the city to meet the bus, where Keith and I joined our fellow globe-trotters (or at least Scotland-hoppers) to return to the comfort of our prison cell dorm rooms (For the record, my main ceiling light just burnt out, so I'm just a bit turned off about this room right now).

So the recount of the home stay is finished; now we can get, eventually, to the business of exploring the rest of Scotland, including the fair city of Edinburgh. Tomorrow morning I am climbing Arthur's Seat, the 800 foot peak that rises right at the edge of the city park--I'm sure I'll come back with some boffo pics. But until then...

Cheers!