There Ain't No Devil, It's Just God When He's Drunk

No, I'm not neglecting this, but there has been frack all going on in my life. I am still looking for more work to help out with my part time not-job, and getting more and more freaked out by the second as reports keep coming in that now places like MacDonald's is turning away staff. Eek.

I woke up Sunday morning at 8:30 with the taste of Micky Finns and port making my tongue all fuzzy feeling and an incessant, dull headache that made me want to disappear back into my fluffy sleeping bag for another 5 hours. Yep, welcome back to the Kingdom of Fife.

Saturday was a day of joyful reunions: I finally got to see Scotland play in 6 Nations, which I haven't seen in a year, and they WON! I got to see my friend Blonde H and Amy who I also haven't seen in a very very very long time, and I got to experience my first proper night out since I've been back in the UK. In the wild, untamed town of Kirkcaldy.

After the dominating win over Italy in 6 Nations, Blonde H drove up from the Boarders to pick me up and off we went. Getting to the Lang Toon was no bother, but finding Amy's flat was an epic adventure since Kirkcaldians obvious don't believe in signpost or proper road identification. After driving down every bloody street we could find, we somehow magically found ourselves on the street perpendicular to where we needed to be. Amy was less than useful, and kept giving us directions based on where her old highschool or Asda were, as if we knew where those places were and could be helpful, but in the end we found it.

Now, because of when the game ended, when Blonde H had picked me up, and when we got to Amy's (3 hours later!) no one had had any dinner. So starving, we snacked on what food we did bring- Doritos, Chocolate fingers, Haribros, and pistachio nuts. And then followed it down with multiple glasses of Port and Blue Caribbean (our ghetto version of Cheeky Vitmo), Peach Schnapps and Lemonade, and of course, shot upon shot of Micky Finns. I'm sure my stomach was super happy about all this, but I was in no state to really care.

We got to the club by 11:30, and from there on, everything just kinda flows together. I remember some dancing, being terribly outraged that they don't serve tap water and make you fork out £1.40 for a bottle, and being told by Amy's friends that they hate Americans.

We stumbled out around 2:00 am dead tired and not looking forward to waking up 5 hours later. Poor Blonde H had to work the next day from 11-8. Ouch.

Things have been rather heavy on here lately, so I thought I'd try to turn the mood around. Today was my last day working for the NHS, and even though I will once again be thrown into the unemployment ring until more temp jobs arise, I woke up with a very happy heart. The sun was shining, the air was clear and crisp, and you could feel the changing seasons. It was a perfectly (and one of my favourite words) autumnal day. So nice that I decided to walk to work, even though it meant walking for 15 minutes in high heels.

Along the way, I got the chance to let my mind wander. Scottie is finally taking some vacation time from work, and he and I are going to head North for some Scottish exploring. This got me to thinking about travel and the way people view their experiences abroad. Some base it all on entertainment. I've met a fair handful of travellers in hostels who base their opinions on a city or even country based on how many clubs there are, how cheap the drinks are, and how many nights in a row they were completely inebriated. Then there are those there for the scenery. They take loads of photos, but when asked what the city or country was like, all they can talk about is the architecture and landscape.

Now I would consider myself fairly well travelled. I tried my best to visit all my friends studying in mainland Europe my year abroad in the UK, spent only hours sleeping in grungy, dirty hostels in order to catch early cross country trains, and know how to live out of only a school backpack for two weeks. For me, while night life and scenery add extra flavour to a new place, I find the real heart of a city lies in human interaction- how people respond to complete strangers, their willingness to help others, their social implements, and how their systems help or hinder people.

Which brings me to why I love Scotland so much. While it boasts fantastic scenery, great activities, and good night life, it's the kindness factor that constantly uplifts my spirits. I know this is biased because I haven't spent 2 years every city or country, but having lived for years in both Northern and Southern California, I still find Scotland to have the largest kindness factor I've encountered so far.

My first experience with this was two years ago. My boyfriend and I were trying to get to sleep, as most normal people would at 2:00 am, when we were harshly awoken by a loud voice outside. 'Yer all right, pal? Hey, hey, yer all right? Is this yer flat? Hey- do ye live 'ere? You got to get up, ken, if this is no yer flat, you got to get up.' It finally occurred to me that someone had passed out drunk on the stoop adjoining ours. But rather than let the guy freeze to death, this random stranger passing by woke him up, stayed up talking to him for a while, and then called him a cab to take him home once he got him conscious enough. I was in shock. I had never heard of anyone going out of their way to help a drunk person- heck, back in PB, drunk people were falling around all over the place and everyone just pretended they didn't exist. From then on, I kept noticing small but kind efforts being made throughout the city; people helping old ladies in wheelchairs navigate rough pavement, strangers giving up their spaces on a cramped train for a mother and child, locals stopping on their way to and from work to help tourists with maps without even being asked for help, and strangers having a chat at bus stops or grocery store queues for the sake of just being friendly and passing the time. And these small acts of kindness rub off. A few months ago, I was walking down to the city centre with a friend and noticed a man scrambling around in the middle of a busy street trying to pick up a mess of fallen papers. Shady of yester-year would have felt bad for the guy, but carried on her merry way. But seeing one person join in the scramble to help this guy prompted me to join in as well, and with in a minute, there were 4 random people helping this man rescue his stack of papers from the street. The look of gratitude on his face was priceless, and I had a glowing feeling inside for the rest of the day.

I know that these acts of kindness are happening all over, but until I moved here, I never really saw any of them taking place. So everyone keep your eyes out and do your best to make sure that your city is well up on its kindness factor- it really impresses the tourists!