Some Sort of Orientation

Much to my surprise, I find that I have a little bit of "blogger's guilt" (I put that phrase in quotes as if I've heard it somewhere else ...). I actually feel bad that it's been a few days since I've updated, so here's a somewhat complete recap of my first few days in Glasgow.

Over the course of the past couple of days I've managed to grocery shop (finding both Oreos and Crispy M&Ms -- though both took some effort), ride the subway to the City Centre, watch a football match in a real pub, and visit the Kelvingrove Art Gallery and Museum. Throw in two days of lecture-hall orientation and a bus tour, and that's been my week in short.

I assume that it'd be pretty tedious to list everything I did in detail, so I'll only recount some of the coolest/strangest moments to date. One of each happened to me last night. After walking around all afternoon with Diana unable to find Sauchiehall street, Di and I went to dinner at the highly recommended The Wee Curry Shop. Delicious lamb saag, and excellent service. However, just as we were finishing up, a lone elderly man at a table behind us began a conversation. It started off as normal enough. Di and I had been discussing the various theatre programs in high school and college that we had participated in, and the man inquired about our experiences, mentioning he was a part-time actor/singer/musician. But within a couple of minutes the conversation became more of a monologue on his part, and soon he was describing his arthritis, OCD habits, and dissatisfaction with the current generation's penchant for swearing. Finally both our checks came, and the man laid a wet kiss on Di and my hands before exiting the restaurant, stopping briefly to chat with the perturbed maitre'd. It was definitely one of the odder experiences of my life, and I worked in NYC this summer.

But after washing our hands and heading out ourselves, Di and I headed over to this local pub Tennent's to watch Scotland vs. Iceland in a World Cup Qualifier. Tennent's brew is on tap all over the University area, so it was neat to actually go into the pub it comes from. This was a legitimate pub as well, packed to the brim with, um, exuberant football fans. We met a couple of other international students there, and ended up being some of the only women in the place, tucked into a corner booth. It was so packed Di and I had to go across the street to go to the bathroom, because it was easy to get out the door than across the pub to their own restrooms. I tried Magner's hard cider, which wasn't that different from the Woodchuck I've had at home. I knew, however, that I was in a real Scottish pub when the bartender looked at me blankly upon my request of a Seabreeze. I had a Smirnoff Ice instead.

It was really thrilling to be a part of the action. Men screamed and cursed at the television screens, and everyone seemed to be having a great time. I didn't really interact with the patrons, but I'm pretty sure they were less than interested in conversation at that point. It was however, the first honest to goodness drink in a pub I've had (we had been to bars the previous nights).

To finish up, some random facts I've learned in the past couple of days:

- No joke, Scottish people really do say "wee"
- To follow that, in our first orientation we were told that the subway here is called "The Clockwork Orange" because of its color and because "it runs in a wee circle"
- "Outwith" replaces "outside," as in "outwith of these dates"
- someone actually said "heaven forfend"
- Sauchiehall Street (which I believe means "willowy place near water") is pronounced sock-ee-hall

Hopefully I'll be more consistent with my postings as the semester goes on -- there should be another soon because I've also got plenty to complain about. For the moment, however, I have to get dressed to go to a ceilidh (pronounced kay-lee), the Scottish equivalent of a barn dance.