So - back across the pond at last. Where did the time go? Feels like yesterday that I was landing in Glasgow and being whirled away to Stirling by a man named Hamish. Now I'm sitting at my breakfast bar and rambling once agian about my time there.
Well, what to say? I'm sure people expect a ramble about how much it sucked coming home and me wailing on and on about how much I miss it. Well, I do miss it. More than you know. But I'm coping just fine. Culture shock? Nope. Reverse culture shock? A little. I guess it's more of a "eye-opener" coming home. Everyone's SO plugged in over here. Laptops, smart phones, tv, movies, games...UGH!!! No one seems to value interpersonal conversation anymore. In fact, I went to dinner with a few friends when I came home and found a few of them uninterested in me and on their smart phones while I was trying to talk to them. I find such things overly frustrating now. My group of friends in Scotland were much more interested in putting on music and sitting down over a deck of cards or dinner to while away the hours with conversation and friends. None of them had a smart phone - and if they texted, they kept it where it belonged - a seperate conversation from the here and now. I love that.
I also think I'm notcing the rudeness more. This may just be my experience, but everywhere I travelled in the UK - England, Scotland, Ireland - all the people I met or talked to or asked for directions were the NICEST people I have ever had the opportunity to meet. Complete strangers would be willing to sit down and spend some time talking and getting to know you, to point you in the right direction if you were lost with complete good grace, and to find you interesting. I've been gestured rudely at, honked at, sworn at, snapped at and overall just treated rudely ever since I got home by people outside my family and friends. Is this what we've become okay with in the US? Since when is asking for directions such a bothersome thing? Does it really make us feel better to honk and swear at a car going slow in front of us rather than just sit back and enjoy the ride - or if you are in a hurry, find a way around them? I guess I just see no point in being rude or taking rudeness anymore. What's the point? Does it make us feel better? Does it improve our interpersonal relationships? I'd like to think not.
But - enough about those annoying little details of life. I'm beginning to sound like John Lennon with the human relationships and peace spiel...not that that's a bad thing!! ;-)
As much as I am handling the transition back to the US (in my opinion) without issue, I am also missing the relationships I had in Scotland. Friends I have made that have impacted my life and personality more than they even know. I miss waking up in the morning and walking into a sunlight kitchen filled with music and laughter at Anton standing on a chair with a snuggie draped around himself as if a robe with a goofy hat on and Donald pretending to worship him. I miss Tyla's wicked comments and insight paired with Saori's loving personality and playful nature. I miss Gavin and Donald's arguements about Lennon being a Communist or not, as well as the devious card games in which they were pitted against one another. I miss matching my wit and humor against that of Gavin, the nights of Supernatural watching with Tyla and Saori, the foot references from Anton and the love of the Beatles of Donald. I miss the nick names, the horsing around, the smiles, the shoulder to lean on when things got rough, the support, the human interaction. I miss just bouncing out the backdoor to toss around the pigskin or heading up to the pitch to play a friendly game of football that dissolves into serious competition. I just plain miss it. And the people. But I never said goodbye. I will never say it. Because I refuse to believe that that was it. That I'll never see any of them again. That I'll never be in Scotland again. Because I won't.
Beacuse I will go back one day. I will.
I guess all I can is, I was lucky. To live with who I did, when I did and where I did. Another time, another place, my experience may not have been the same. And I'll never be back in that same situation. I realize it won't be like that. But it doesn't matter. Those friends will still be there - I'll still visit them. That's all that matters to me. That I lived in the most beautiful country, sculpted by God's own hands, amongst the most gracious people and left with an experience that will live in my heart forever.
Not many people can say they KNOW a place. Sure, a lot of people can claim to know a place - everyone who goes on vacation somewhere for any length of time comes back like they've lived there all their lives. But I feel like one of the lucky few. I've lived in a place so unreal sometimes I still have trouble grasping that it happened. I consider myself one of the few who needs not CLAIM to know a place, but to have lived amongst its people, spoken the language, eaten the food, witnessed the history, touched the past and felt its awesome presence enough to know its heart and soul.
I know Scotland. I am Scotland. It's as much a part of me as my beating heart or my soul - and no one, NO ONE, can take that away from me.
And one day soon, as sure as the sun will rise, I will reconnect myself with my heart and soul.
Scotland, I am and always will be, forever yours. Thank you.
