Scotland reminiscences
Last night I think I had my first cathartic moment regarding Scotland. I really do miss Edinburgh. What tipped me off, funnily enough, was driving home by the Miller brewery (which I even cringe to use that word associated with Miller) and how awful the hops smelled. I called Bryce will driving 80 mph down the freeway and asked if he remembered what Edinburgh smelled like exactly. Unfortunately he couldn’t talk as he was in the middle of making dinner and so I was forced to think about it by myself. For those of you who don’t know, Edinburgh often smells a lot like the hops brewing from the Caledonian brewery on the east side of the city; when the wind is blowing (which, as you can imagine, is very frequent) you can often smell it: it’s sometimes described as akin to a burnt peanut taste. (Edinburgers, feel free to put in your 2 pence on that one).
It made me sad. I can describe what the city smells like, but I can’t recall the smell any longer. This lead me down the path of remembering lots of things I miss about Edinburgh and it’s mainly the people: David and Neyir, friends from Uni, the Stubbs, the Courts, Melissa and Allan, parties in our flat (particularly memorable for many reasons was our Thanksgiving party for 17), my little office on the 4th floor, hearing British accents everywhere and carrying groceries home. I miss walking. I feel like I’m gaining weight just sitting here typing. Sadly most people are more than the 10 pounds overweight that I am, so they think I’m just fine. But it’s true, nobody walks in L.A.
Now this is sounding all romanticized. When I met with Susan, my supervisor, at Berkeley I told her I felt like I needed to have some breakdown since I’d rather easily slid back into my California self; she remarked that being comfortable everywhere is the sign of the cosmopolitan. So either I am now a cosmopolite or am hopelessly bifurcated between locational selves. Either way, I guess what is miss is the familiarity of Edinburgh. I knew how my days would go; I knew where things were. I knew what to expect. I know all of those things here, too, to an extent anyway.
I don’t have any amazing conclusions from any of this; I guess it’s just part of the grieving process involved with any major life move. It’ll be interesting to go back in March when I’ll feel the city to be a bit of a stranger to me then as it’s progressed past my memories.
September 23rd, 2006 at 6:29 am
That Edinburgh smell…often means that it’s going to rain as well! Familiar and autumn-ey though. Like bread baking but not-so-pleasant.
September 23rd, 2006 at 8:30 am
When I left Sydney, Australia in 1995 after spending a year there I felt very similar emotions. I would perhaps see a news item on the TV with footage of the city and feel terrible pangs of homesickness, far more than I ever felt for Scotland while living in Australia.
Part of the reason I felt like that I suspect, is that I knew I would be going home to Scotland, but once I’d left Australia I realised I may never return there, and I haven’t so far
September 24th, 2006 at 8:35 am
I ache for you and I know the feeling well after having moved from Fayetteville as well as Scottsdale – It is an awkward feeling – somehow feeling displaced and a bit melancholy. It really is true that time does heal all wounds. Thanks for sharing with al of us – I will pray for you and I was truly wondering when these feelings were going to surface as I had been expecting them and strange as it may seem, I have been feeling melancholy thinking of not having a reason to return to Edinburgh to visit you. It is truly an enchanting city. I love you bunches! Mom
September 25th, 2006 at 11:42 am
It really sounds like you need some David Time! Most people who get seperated from me experience this phenomenon. Tell tail signs are hops induced nostalgia, longing for the familiar, the need to be annoyed, phantom pains in your shins, and of course feeling split down the middle from staying put and needing Dave time.
By the way, that is quite a sentence: “So either I am now a cosmopolite or am hopelessly bifuracted between locational selves”
When I first read that i thought that I would go into a rant about Bifurcation Theory. Instead I will go into a rant about Catastrophe Theory (which is what Bifurcation Theory is also know as). Essencially being seperated from me is a Catastrophe to you. Your use of the math term “bifurcate” is your inner self saying, “I miss David”. By moving to California you created a catastrophe to your ’self’. The lure of money, fame and fortune conflicts with the passive, introverted nature cultured by Dave Time. The two will forever be at odds with one another.
There is now cure for what you are experiencing. However, there are things you can do to ease the pain.
1- Have a daily rant about something. Usually about customer service or the school of mathematics at the university of edinburgh.
2- Kick Bryce in the shin repeatedly.
3- Wear something Canadian. Hockey Jerserys (from a Canadian team), Roots clothing, and Lumber Jack wear is acceptable.
4– Have someone tell you something mathematical.
These things will only supress the inevitable temporarily. Eventually, you will go insane!
Just wait until your spelling become attrochous!
September 25th, 2006 at 3:23 pm
Mr T just shakes his head at David, wondering were on earth he gets the time to post such stuff
Mr T also would ilke you to know that he does not believe in Cosmopolitainism – there is no such thing as a cosmopolitian, only self-denying nationals.
September 25th, 2006 at 6:14 pm
Dave, there is another solution, and this one is permanent…apply for a job at JPL/Cal Tech, get the job, and move to LA wth us. Problem solved.
Judith, you’re right, there is definitely some bready-ness to it. We miss talking about the gospel with you guys on Wednesdays.
September 25th, 2006 at 9:05 pm
Hmm,
I like the use of “bifurcate” as well.
There is a deep spiritual metaphor in that concerning how we might sometimes belnd in “too well” with the world when we are among them. Is it bifurcation, or that MPD that we get of Paul in Romans 7? While this is really not an issue when it comes to nationalism, there is some relevance analogously.
Still, the kicking Bryce in the shins might be a good answer to either plight. Those of us observing from outside would be able to tell how you are coping aAhley, by merely ascertaining if Bryce is limping!
Of course if anyone else kicks him in the shins i could lead to misunderstandings of how you are doing…. but I digress
One last thing. That Miller Brewery’s scent reminds me of my mothers arroz con pollo (Chicken and rice) in which she would pour two cans of beer while cooking.
September 26th, 2006 at 9:52 am
Right back acha, Bryce! (Practicing the lingo for when we come and visit)
September 26th, 2006 at 7:25 pm
Judith, we’re really excited for your visit!!!! (even though it won’t be for a number of months…)
And I love that you’re practicing the lingo, hehe.
September 27th, 2006 at 12:07 pm
Better dig out those Kids Praise tapes…
September 30th, 2006 at 3:27 pm
hehe; it’s so funny you still have those (funny, or scary, not sure which)!