Hand Turkeys and Pumpkin Pie

This Thanksgiving was surreal. Not only was I far from home and working on a day when I should have been watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and putting the finishing touches on my coconut meringue pie, but I was sick and watching beautiful snow fall outside my window. While I missed Thanksgiving dinner in Dundee due to illness and postponed the Aberdeen feast due to snow, this Thanksgiving has nonetheless found me thankful for many things, so in the spirit of this uniquely American holiday, I give them to you in no particular order.

Friends – I have found friends come in a variety of packages and a variety of places. Never in my life have I realized the importance of friends until I found myself leaving some behind and discovering new ones around the corner. They are essential to life, like sunshine to a flower, and I am thankful for my American friends, my German friends, my French friends, and most importantly my new Scottish friends who have made living in a new land a little easier.

Senator William Fulbright – I would not have met the people I have, both American and European, had it not been for Senator Fulbright and his idea in 1946 to establish exchanges that would foster understanding between the U.S. and other nations. It has been an honor to participate in a program that encourages cultural and professional exchange and dialogue, and I know that I will not be returning to my home or to my profession with the same ideas I had before starting this journey.

Family – This year has left me thankful for my loved ones like never before. In June, I realized just how precious life is and how you can’t take time for granted when my father underwent major surgery. And then, this Thanksgiving I was reminded again when my uncle was diagnosed with cancer. It’s made me appreciate what I’ve been given and reminds me, especially this year, to take advantage of each moment, even when it’s the last thing I want to do.

Students – My students, both in Oklahoma City and in Bridge of Don, remind me to live and to laugh and to learn. This Thanksgiving, I was able to give my Scottish students a lesson on our uniquely American holiday, and in the process, I also learned a little bit more about my own culture and how it’s seen through different lenses. I was also able to show my gratitude and appreciation to my students and their having to put up with a crazy Yank by baking pumpkin pies. Their faces of delight (and disgust) in trying a dessert comprised of “a veg” is something I will cherish for a long time. However, as several of them said, “Oh, this is fine Miss. Very nice and cinnamon-y,” I think the pies were a winner all-in-all.

BIll and Miss Trunchbull

Our official last meeting of the American Fulbrighters was held in Stratford-upon-Avon. The British Council paid for a lovely weekend that included a tour of Shakespeare’s birthplace and a musical performance of Roald Dahl’s Matilda.

Not only was the weekend nice for catching up with my fellow English and Northern Irish exchange teachers, but it also made for a nice catch-up time with my Scottish sisters. There are five of us here in Scotland, and in order for us to make our way to S-u-A, we decided to rent a minivan and drive the 6 hours from Stirling (northeast of Glasgow) down to Shakespeare’s hometown. An American roadtrip down the M6.

Stratford-upon-Avon is a quintessential English village. It looked even more so this weekend with its garlands and lights strung throughout the streets in anticipation of Christmas. It is nestled on the river Avon, and its high street has lovely little shops in which I was able to do some of my Christmas shopping. The town is also the home of the RSC (Royal Shakespeare Company). As they were out on tour, we saw Matilda in the Courtyard Theatre, and I have to say it beat the first RSC production I saw 10 years ago, a musical interpretation of As You Like It accompanied by 1930’s jazz and zoot suits.

All told, I and the other teaching couple from Aberdeen, Mike and Kim McCloud, spent over 18 hours in a vehicle. And thanks to Mike, us gals made it to and fro in one piece. The weekend was long, but it was nice getting to spend “family” time with Kristin, Maryam, Kim, Denika, and Mike.

Fly Half With a Side of Scrum

On Saturday I went to my first rugby match since I've been in the UK. Scotland versus the New Zealand All Blacks. It was amazing! We started things off the proper way, with dinner and a pint at the Grosvenor Pub and then walked down with the kilt-wearing, Nessy-hat-sporting fans to Murrayfield in Edinburgh.

The match was started with a pipe band marching across the field and a lone piper who played from atop the stadium and led the crowd in "Flower of Scotland." To introduce NZ, their team performed a haka, a traditional Maori tribal dance. The Scottish crowd was so excited throughout the game and remained cheerful despite their home team's defeat by their Commonwealth cousins - 3 to 49.

Those of you who know me well, know that I played girls' rugby for Keble College while I was at Oxford, so this was actually a sporting event that made sense to me (unlike American football). It was thrilling to watch and had me wishing I could still occasionally tackle those who get in my way and send them limping off the pitch!

Bonfire Night

Every year on the 5 November, Great Britain celebrates Guy Fawkes’ Day. The day commemorates the failed attempt by the Catholic Guy Fawkes and his fellow conspirators to blow up Parliament and assassinate the Protestant King James I (who I might add, had issued very violent measures against Catholics who refused to convert, so some might say, he had it coming). Fawkes, who unfortunately was posted to guard the 36 barrels of gunpowder that were to be used in the explosion, was caught, tried, and executed, so now, every year the occasion is marked by fireworks and large bonfires - which in the past have also been used to burn stick figure effigies of Guy - throughout the UK.

This year, since the day fell on a Friday, fireworks and bonfires were everywhere – and heard everywhere - all weekend long. Aberdeen celebrated Bonfire Night with a fireworks display and bonfire on the beach. The nearby town of Banchory had its bonfire and fireworks display on Saturday night, and I was invited by my Principal Teacher to attend the event with his family.

The fireworks were as spectacular as any Fourth celebration with the only major difference being the abundance of scarves, wooly hats, and warm cups of coffee.

The Wicker Man

"Come. It is time to keep your appointment with the Wicker Man."

Halloween in Scotland is not quite the commercial gimmick that it is in the US. And in that sense, it’s refreshing. Yes, there was the odd trick-or-treater here and there, but most of all it seemed that it was just the day that marked the end of October and the beginning of November (and the cold, cold rumblings of winter).

Halloween afternoon found me getting on a bus to head for the lovely little village of Inverurie, northwest of Aberdeen. I met our librarian from Oldmachar, Teri Anderson, and her dog, Tilba. The three of us took advantage of the limited sunlight we had now that time had changed and drove around the countryside in the hills of Bennachie (ben-a-key) for a mini-tour of ancient ruins.

Our first stop was a Neolithic stone circle at Aquhorthies. It was built over 5,000 years ago, and was used, archaeologists think, to observe the phases of the moon and for religious worship. It has eleven stones that stand upright and one that lays flat and perfectly frames the top of the highest point in Bennachie, Mither Tap. It is still located in the middle of a farm and requires a bit of a jaunt up a small hill through the mud. The circle is something that has to be seen and experienced, as it is quite humbling to think of the ancient people who constructed it. It was a picturesque image in the fall, what with the hills and sheep and the orange and yellow of the leaves and little Tilba skirting about the stones.

Our next stop was The Maiden Stone, a comparatively young ruin, considering it was built only 1,200 years ago by the Picts, a group of Celts who lived in Aberdeenshire. The stone stands very tall and on one side has a notch carved into it. The story is that the maiden, for whom the stone was built, made a deal with a stranger that she could bake a bannock, a scone, faster than he could build a road up to Bennachie. The stranger, who was the devil in disguise, won the bet, chased the girl and managed to grab her shoulder just as God heard her prayers and turned her to stone. Just like that! On one side of the stone are a faint celtic knot and cross and on the other a Pictish kelpie—what some think may be Nessy—and mirror and comb. Some of the images were hard to see due to time’s wear, and so the granite stone is kept under a protective case through most of the winter. We were lucky to have caught a glimpse of it just before it went into its winter home.

Our final destination was a living history museum in Oyne, west of Inverurie. Here we awaited nightfall when a group of Picts with their faces painted blue (this is how they acquired their name in Latin), would lead us up the hillside to watch the burning of…(que scary music) the Wicker Man. Picts, being Celtic, were druids, and before they were converted to Christianity, they would burn a wicker man as a sacrifice to the gods. The wicker man is a massive human-like structure that would often have had real humans inside while it burned. While this type of sacrifice was done often, it was especially used to mark the end of the Pictish calendar year, October 31.

And so, at 5:30, just as darkness had settled in, we were led up a muddy hill by some witches and Pictish priestesses and watched the Man burn, burn, burn to usher in the new year. It was a perfect eerie end to a perfect Halloween, and yes, I was more than happy to be on the outside watching rather than on the inside, “keeping my appointment.”

Ceilidh at Woodend Barn

To start my Halloween weekend, I went to a venison roast and ceilidh on Friday, October 29, in Banchory, a small town a few miles west of Aberdeen. It was a chilly, dark, windy autumn night, and the band, Danse McCabre, and its Scottish folk music seemed all the more appropriate for the end of October.

Ceilidhs are Scottish dances that closely resemble American barn dancing, or for those educated in the American public school system of the 70s and 80s, a square dance. The music is fast and increases in tempo as you dance. The band consists of a tin whistle, a drum, a fiddle, and the most important element of any ceilidh band, the electric piano (at least in the case of Danse McCabre).

I love folk music. I love dancing. Combine the two, and you’ve got me hooked. Most of the dances were fast, were done by a large group in two lines or one circle, and were quite the cardio-workout. I think my favorite of the night was “Strip the Willow” which basically involved hooking arms with one person and flying to the next individual up and down a line, all the while keeping up with an increasing tempo. From what I understand, most ceilidhs are had at weddings and are typically fairly formal events with men in their kilts and women in their hats. However, and I’ve yet to experience this, by the end of the night, the women have kicked off their shoes and are being whisked through the air from man to man in time to the music. In fact, I was given proper warning by a few fellow teachers that I would most likely have bruises up and down my arms, the men’s grips are so tight.

I’m sorry to say though that this was not the case. There were no men in kilts, and to be honest, there weren’t enough men to go around. However, I did have an excellent partner in Janice, one of my fellow teacher exchange club members. Part of her job as a PE instructor in the Scottish system is to teach these dances to her students, so I couldn’t have asked for a better partner.

The night at Woodend Barn was great fun, and I look forward to hopefully another opportunity to attend a ceilidh (with the bruises to show for it).

Foos yer doos?

It's been nearly ten weeks since I arrived to Aberdeen, and it was only this past week that I felt truly connected. I felt that I belonged and could blend into the landscape. Little things have a way of making one feel connected to where they are, and these little things happen over a span of time.

These little things were rather odd occurrences. Take for example the black Labrador that casually walked into my classroom. While the class exploded into laughter and terrifying shrieks, the dog, Mr. Reid, and I were in our own little world of trying, as quietly and as quickly as possible, to get one of us out of the fire exit. Never once did Mr. Lab flinch or blink an eye, yet Simon and I were nervous wrecks considering all of the possible things that could go wrong when combing a group of 8th graders and a meandering dog. In that moment I felt like a teacher.

I also had the little thing of encountering NEDs for the first time. These "non-educated delinquents" with their hoodies and track pants and trainers and their truancy had been described to me by my students, but they were still something I had yet to experience. On Thursday, however, I got my chance when one of them threw a branch at my fire exit door. After jumping clear out of my chair, I went to the door, and on instinct - and perhaps out of stupidity - opened it to see the three little NEDs running to the bus stop. Something kicked in. I immediately marched up to the bus stop and asked why they had thrown something at my door. What had I ever done to them? After much yelling and cursing (and not on my part, I might add), I ended up with an apology...and a second branch at my door...and a lovely shot of the bird, as they rode off down the street in the bus. However, in that moment, I felt like I was back!

On Friday night, the English and Maths departments had dinner out. It was wonderful seeing everyone outside of school, and I realized how grateful I am for these teachers from Oldie. They have welcomed me and embraced me. They have realized when I needed a good distraction from students or from thoughts of home. Over that evening, I felt like a friend.

Tuesday afternoon my brother, Kevin, arrived in Aberdeen. We spent the evening out with new friends Jenn and Jane, met up with Simon for drinks on Wednesday, and had dinner with Peadar (my principal teacher) and his family that night. After venturing over to "my" local pub - The Queen Vic - for some pints with Andy, a friend of my exchange partner Gill's, we were walking home when it happened. The one moment when all of these little experiences converged and I realized that I have made it. I belong. It was sudden, and it found me unaware...I, Kelli Davis, was stopped for directions!

Yes, that's right. Directions. When I realized that this man had stopped me because he assumed I would know my way about, and that I was able to answer, I knew that I had arrived. In that moment, I felt like I was home.

So, in response to the question - that I have actually heard in casual conversation here in the northeast - "Foos yer doos?" I'd have to say, "Aye, peckin."

One week ago today, I left the U.S. for Aberdeen by way of Amsterdam. I can't really capture in words what was going on in my head. It was surreal. In fact, still, as I sit here watching Coronation Street on ITV2, looking outside the window of my flat at the streams of sunlight on the various shades of green, I feel like at some point within the next week or so my vacation will be over, and I'll be boarding a plane to go home and start teaching at PCO.

This week has been kept rather busy with meeting my Principal Teacher (Head of Department) and several of my new work colleagues and friends of my exchange partner Gill. I've found my way to Aberdeen's city centre - a 30 minute walk - and to Sainbury's, my local grocery store and only a 15 minute trek in the opposite direction. On Tuesday, I went with Peadar, my PT, to my new school, Oldmachar Academy, and saw my new classroom, walked around the main building, and met two of the most important people in any educational establishment, the librarian and the principal's secretary. Wednesday I was introduced to shopping in downtown Aberdeen at the Bon Accord Centre where I found some new loves: Monsoon, Next, Top Shop, and P-Mark (a cross between Old Navy and Wal-Mart and super, super cheap). Yesterday, despite earlier challenges with Susy the Washer, I finished my last loads of laundry without having to wash each one multiple times and having a cycle last 7 hours. Victory! Albeit a small one, a victory nonetheless. This next year is going to find many such victories and learning curves, but I'm excited for the challenge and growth they'll present.

Right. Well I must be off. Emmerdale--one of my new "stories"--is just on.

On Monday, August 2, I and approximately 90 other teachers from India, Hungary, Czech Republic, Mexico, Switzerland, France, the UK, and the US gathered in Washington DC to meet one another and more importantly to realize the journey on which we were about to embark. The Fulbright Classroom Teacher Exchange was started in 1946 by Senator Fulbright of Arkansas in an attempt to promote goodwill and foster understanding between nations in an attempt to avoid those conflicts of earlier decades that had led to two world wars.

Perhaps the most important event of this week, however, was meeting my exchange partner, Ms. Gill Butler, who will live my life for the next year. She will live in my apartment. She will teach in my classroom. She will walk in my shoes, and I hers. This blog will follow all of the mishaps, all of the experiences, all of the learning, all of the fun that this year will hold.