Odds & Ends

NPR had a piece on Morning Edition that was about a crime writer living in Glasgow, of all places. (What, Glasgow? Crime?)

Denise Mina is a Glaswegian, who returned to Easterhouse in the 80’s, broke, a high-school dropout, and unemployed. She went back to school to do graduate studies on mental illness in female offenders — not exactly a happy topic, but one which she found interesting. She turned to writing stories about the reality she saw — realizing that if she wrote a doctoral thesis about it, few would ever read it. However, her crime fiction has won her numerous awards.

This was a funny coincidence, as T. picked up a book in the library only last week about a crime in this city. Of course, the book she chose was from the children’s section, and she picked it up because the cover caught her eye. The silhouette of the crane was awfully familiar… the same one we saw from our window when we lived in Finnieston.

The novel is about the Orange Walks, and the class and religious conflicts in the city as seen from the varying points of view of a Catholic child and a Protestant child. Other voices are heard from too — an asylum seeker to the city, a coach, and worried parents. While this book struggles with defining itself as an actual story with realistic dialogue rather than a fact-filled “after-school special” type of novel outlining problems with the city and culture of Glasgow, it did strike us as a handy guide for figuring out what the Orange Walks are about, tying in the football rivalries as well, and how many in the city wish to have their children grow up without taking part in the partisan behavior. Here’s hoping it is someday possible.

Well, it’s one out, one in. We’re losing an American friend to Cypress. Well, “losing” is probably the wrong word, but our friends in Moffat, which is in the “Borders” region of Scotland, (nearest England) are moving away from wet greenery in favor of dry sandblasting. Teaching at university in Japan is what both of them had been doing, and they’d taken a six year break to get their kids through school in the UK. Well, it was just too rainy for them, so they’re moving on. Bon voyage to them! Meanwhile, we’re suddenly hearing from many other Americans who are moving to Scotland. It’s surprising, really, since Scotland wasn’t on our radar until D. heard about the program at the University. Our newest acquaintances are also Californians, so it’ll be interesting to watch them get their feet wet — literally — learning to get around Glasgow. Since they not moving here for school, they’ll likely have an easier transition, as it’s in a company’s best interests to be sure that their new employees get along all right!

Summer seems to have fled for the last time. While we’re still having the odd bright day, the brief heat is definitely gone, and we notice most the the leaching of the light. The sun comes up later and later, and we’re finding it hard to wake up already. Yikes.

The fact is, there are no lights in our fifteen foot high ceilings, and as the shadows deepen, we find ourselves straining our eyes after a certain point in the evening afternoon. We’ve armed ourselves with “daylight bulbs,” but unfortunately, the lampstand of choice in our neck of the woods seems to be made for halogen bulbs. Because of past experiences with halogen lamps basically blowing up, we’re not going there again! This weekend we’re off to Ikea (pronounced Icky Yeah by D’s coworkers, to our deep amusement) to sort out the lighting situation once and for all. It’s a long bus ride out there — and takes up so much of our time that we’ll probably splurge and take a cab. Sigh. Though we’re glad to be passengers and on foot much of the time, there are some things it is just so much easier to do with a car!

If you look behind the glorious flowers, you’ll see a bank of fallen leaves. Yes. Leaves, falling already.

It doesn’t seem possible but next month we will have been here for twelve months. A solid year.

One would think that, after a year abroad, there would be smooth sailing. One would believe oneself to have anticipated all of the curves that could possibly be thrown, and would be fully comfortable and assimilated in one’s new home.

One would be very wrong!

We realized over the last couple of days that we are never going to get totally used to Glasgow, or to Scotland overall. No two city blocks are alike. No two interactions with shopkeepers or museum curators or postmen or random office workers are alike. This is not to say that it’s not the same in the U.S. …but the differences are… familiar. Here, there’s a surprise — sometimes happy, sometimes foul — around every corner. Every time we step out of the door, it’s an adventure.

We do know, after a year here, that we’ll never live quite so far downtown again, unless we have TONS of money to insulate us from the sound and fury of living so closely with other people. We know that we miss the sea, and the constant noise of cars and voices don’t ever resolve into a pleasant roar like the ocean. We’ve learned to shop within walking distance of our lives, which is something we could only rarely see ourselves doing in the U.S., and we’ve learned to get by with less. We owe Glasgow a lot, and when we leave (three years max and counting), we hope we’ll take the lessons learned with us.

– D & T

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