Friday, June 28, 2013

To the Firth


It is not the first time that my culture shock has been triggered by familiarity; that onslaught of white people, cleanliness, and English. It is far more often this reverse culture shock that sends me into a tailspin than say… a cow shitting on my foot in an Indian spice market. And so, when I flew from the Amazon sauna to the highlands of Scotland, the case was no different. It was a sensory overload of perfectly ordered cobblestone streets, of white people talking quietly in flawless guttural Scottish melodies, toilet paper that could be flushed, and water that could be drank, sweet Jesus, STRAIGHT from the tap. But adjusting was simple, and I easily fell into the UK pace and the sweet smells of Scottish breakfasts alongside the (long overdue) company of my American boyfriend and his Chicagoan family. 
















But, this post isn’t about me; it’s about LV (the bride) and the family responsible for my 10-day stint in the land of Scots. Evidence of their awesomeness provided below. <3



There were castles and cows. There were mountains and ten-
mile trail runs, but through it all, there was food. Scottish breakfasts from the expert kitchens of B&B owners like James the Great and David the Moose, which held enough food on one plate for a small family. And afternoons were capped off with pints of Guinness and Arran ale, snacks of fresh cheese and oatcakes, and always Scottish shortbread. The nights were filled with fried fish and haggis (a type of meat I still do not fully understand nor am I capable of explaining), and wine sipped in cottage armchairs while the days were dotted with epic hikes and castle tours, or soft trails leading to ancient graves and white waterfalls. 



But the highlight, was a wedding, more intimate than any I’ve ever experienced. It was what a wedding should be, the complete image of the couple’s wishes. Lauren and Mike, more prone to chatting up the bartender at their local dive bar than sipping high ballers at some acquaintance’s cocktail party, wanted their wedding to reflect their relationship. And so, at 5:00 on a crisp Scottish day they were joined as husband and wife on a small beach with 18 of their family members looking on (and one photographer practically orgasming at the ridiculously vivid photographic opportunity that would inevitably blow up his portfolio).

The lighting was sunset perfect, not in the way that we know sunsets but in the way that only the eerie long-way-north of-the-equator light can create. In place of standard sapphires, the sky was a perplexing cascade of blue and gray, a type of constant dusk that plays in continuous mockery of the unaccustomed eye. 

There was no music or pageantry as Lauren walked down the sand aisle, held on each side by her mother and brother. The silence seemed awkward at first, but once it settled, you realized that the music accompanying the ceremony was the lapping of the waves of the Firth of Clyde on the stony shore of the Isle of Arran. 


Mike dropped the rings, Lauren teared while reciting her vows, and in under 15 minutes, they were kissing as man and wife. There were no bagpipes or kilts in the ceremony, white horses or lavish string quartets; the only thing cliché about this wedding was the absurd rainbow that appeared over the beach during dinner. Lauren dropped her bite of smoked salmon, made eye contact with Mike and the photographer and within seconds they were in the sand beneath the now Double rainbow that conveniently adorned the already picturesque ceremony.



Fully fed, toasted, and photographed, the wedding moved to dancing, and the dancing moved to a slow rhythmic wind down.  The whole thing made me think of the elaborate weddings that have become definitions of acceptable in the States. Perfectly coordinated, yawn evoking church ceremonies, and hour-long bridesmaids speeches...when did we decide that self-designed menus and paper napkins weren’t acceptable? Who made it law that a slick wooden floor was more appropriate than a makeshift living room dance floor? This wedding was personal, and not just for the bride and groom, but for each guest who undoubtedly felt like part of the union, rather than simply another place setting. 

1 comment:

  1. " In place of standard sapphires, the sky was a perplexing cascade of blue and gray, a type of constant dusk that plays in continuous mockery of the unaccustomed eye."

    Wow. Beautiful prose lady.

    ReplyDelete