Is that a cliche? Well, if it is, it's a nice one.
Today, I'd like to share with you, Google, the nice things that some random strangers have done for me over the years. Mostly just because it makes me happy to remember those times.
EDINBURGH
A few years back, my friends and I were wandering groggily through the streets of Edinburgh, looking for our little hostel. Suddenly, a doorman working in some random building on a corner we were passing came running down the steps and asked if he could be of any assistance. I didn't think we were being that obviously lost, but this nice, old fellow must have had an eye for people in need. Not only did this gentleman point us in the right direction, but he stayed on the street, looking after us to make sure we turned down the right street. As we turned the corner, I looked back (quite the distance at this point), and saw him nod contentedly, no doubt still smiling kindly, as we disappeared around the bend.
SANGGYE
One cold, winter evening, my companion and I met a middle-aged woman on her way home from the market. We said hello, and she responded to us like we were her own daughters. I'd never met anyone so kind - and I couldn't even understand anything she said. As we said goodbye, she opened her bag and handed us each a small bag of chips, insisting that we take them home with us. She didn't buy those chips just to give away - but she did without restraint and with joy. But to us, the gift of her genuine kindness far outstripped the value of the chips she so generously gave.
VIENNA
It was Christmas time in Vienna (which means November...they start celebrating early). Some locals and I had just gotten back from ice skating under the stars, and we were wandering happily around the Christkindlmarkt. There we were, casually looking at some of the beautiful little ornaments at one of the stalls, when the old man tending the shop leaned out from behind a curtain of glass balls, wooden stars, and paper angels and handed us each a tiny little angel ornament. "For the beautiful girls," he said, smiling kindly, and retreated back behind his baubles. He didn't expect us to buy anything and he certainly wasn't flirting. He was just being kind.
LONDON
Now this was a very unexpected display of gallantry. I suppose "gallantry" would be a strong word to some, but I like it. Some girl-friends and I were sitting in a restaurant which boasted the "sexiest fish-n-chips in Notting Hill." There was a group of semi-drunk young men at a table across the room, getting a little boisterous. They got up and left just a minute before we did, and were playfully(?) fighting right outside the building. We opened the door and nearly walked into the middle of the whole thing. But the instant they caught sight of us, all six of them stopped immediately and parted to each side, and apologized with a "sorry, girls!" We walked safely through the pack, and once we had gone a safe distance away, they returned to their squabble. I don't know about you, but I like trouble makers with manners.
OREM
Kind acts don't always happen abroad either. Even in my own neighborhood, strangers (but more often friends and neighbors) have reach out to do simple, kind things as well. One instance of when a stranger went out of his way for me happened when I was just a little girl. I was playing out in the driveway when I fell and scraped my knee. I was sitting on my front steps, crying, when a police car pulled up in front of my house. I was afraid I was going to be arrested (just because), but instead, the policeman squatted down and handed me a little stuffed bear wearing a police department sweater. His kindness swept away all my fear and pain and put a smile back on my face.
Don't you feel good now? I sure do. Thanks strangers.
Wednesday, April 23, 2014
Monday, April 21, 2014
Tales from the Streets of Geumcheon
Heya Google,
Here's a story. One of the happiest times of my life was spent in the most ghetto area of Seoul our mission would send sister missionaries to. It's pretty tough to find real "ghetto" in Seoul, but as far as I knew, Geumcheon was as close as you were going to get. And it was a trilling place to be.
Now, it's important to know that Seoul is one of the safest cities in the world (officially - that's not just me being biased). Never, ever did I feel unsafe wandering its streets (although to be fair, we were never out past 9:30 pm, so...).
Anyway, my point is, "ghetto Seoul" was basically "quirky Seoul"; and it lead to a lot of great adventures.
Like most districts in any big city, Geumcheon had its upscale parts and trashy parts. One of my favorite things to do was to walk through the street that lead from a huge upper-scale apartment complex, through the ghetto-ish part, then out to another classier area.
Every day, my companion and I would, of necessity, traverse this path. And every day, we'd run into something wacky, that you would only ever see in Geumchon. And here are some great shining examples, for your reading pleasure:
The Four-Wheeling Harmonie
In Korea, there are a lot of wrinkly old grandmas (or Harmonie) out there, chasing after children, selling vegetables, dragging cart loads of recycling, or shopping. Most of them prefer to walk, which is perhaps why they are so skinny. You'd rarely see them in a taxi and never on a motorbike like many of the men.
But - there was this one gem of a Harmonie that we would run across every few weeks. Unlike her traditional counterparts, she was pretty darn chubby (basically, fat, but it's rude to call grandmas fat) and she had a very unique form of transportation: a four-wheeler. (The only one I EVER saw in Korea.)
She would plop herself down on this growling vehicle, and as the wind blew wildly through her short curls, with a smug curl of the lip and a twinkle in her eye, she would ride through town all, "That's right. Look at ME!"
We would always wave as she roared passed, and she, very pleased, would nod gracefully back.
Gumbitch Park
Already you're laughing, aren't you? We sure did once we saw the poor romanization of what is really a beautiful name, meaning "golden light." As odd as its name, this small park sat right around the corner from our church building. It was a great place to meet drunken people. Or mothers with young children. A strange mix of demographics.
Every day, you could walk past and see something spectacular. Go by on a Thursday morning, and find six drunken people (both men and women) sprawled across benches, flowerbeds, and pathways, chunks of fork-skewered-watermelon scattered about them.
There were several amusing aspects of this scene. First of all, it was clear they opened the watermelon by smashing it on the ground. Second of all, who uses forks in Korea? No one, that's who. And finally, who drinks so early in the morning that they are fully drunk, have managed to slime up an entire park with watermelon remains, and then pass out - all before 11am? It's a wonderful mystery.
The Shark Lady
Perhaps my favorite sight of all, was the day that we walked past the street market and got an eyeful of something spectacular! This market was nestled in a diagonal alley, squashed between some old, brick apartments and a line of nice shops, including a pizza place, a beauty shop, and a bakery. The end of the market would spill out onto the corner in front of the bakery.
On that corner was a lady that would sell seafood from a large tub of water - mostly clams, muscles, and occasionally little crabs. But one day, we noticed people veering off in her direction, with puzzled looks on their faces.
Now, it took quite a lot for people in Geumcheon to show real curiosity. So, we too started in her direction, only to see her sitting on her overturned bucket as proud as a queen on her throne, with a foam box of ice at her feet. On top of that ice lay a 4-foot baby shark, fully intact with a piece of ice wedged between its jaws, like a hog with an apple in its mouth.
We stared, stunned. Question number one: where did she get this thing? Question number two: who on earth would buy it? But it was gone the next day, so clearly, someone did!
Just Your Average Day
These memories were some of my fondest, although you can be sure they are just the tip of the ice berg. From a re-incarnated Elvis (outfit, motorcycle, and all) to an angry woman chasing a man down the street with a bloody knife in her hand (somehow, that wasn't alarming?), the adventures never ended. I'm grateful for the time I spend in this quirky area, with all it's insane people, drunk people, but most of all kind and wonderful people. (Perhaps their stories will come at another time.)
So in conclusion, I'd like to say thanks, God, for sending me there.
Here's a story. One of the happiest times of my life was spent in the most ghetto area of Seoul our mission would send sister missionaries to. It's pretty tough to find real "ghetto" in Seoul, but as far as I knew, Geumcheon was as close as you were going to get. And it was a trilling place to be.
Now, it's important to know that Seoul is one of the safest cities in the world (officially - that's not just me being biased). Never, ever did I feel unsafe wandering its streets (although to be fair, we were never out past 9:30 pm, so...).
Anyway, my point is, "ghetto Seoul" was basically "quirky Seoul"; and it lead to a lot of great adventures.
Like most districts in any big city, Geumcheon had its upscale parts and trashy parts. One of my favorite things to do was to walk through the street that lead from a huge upper-scale apartment complex, through the ghetto-ish part, then out to another classier area.
Every day, my companion and I would, of necessity, traverse this path. And every day, we'd run into something wacky, that you would only ever see in Geumchon. And here are some great shining examples, for your reading pleasure:
The Four-Wheeling Harmonie
In Korea, there are a lot of wrinkly old grandmas (or Harmonie) out there, chasing after children, selling vegetables, dragging cart loads of recycling, or shopping. Most of them prefer to walk, which is perhaps why they are so skinny. You'd rarely see them in a taxi and never on a motorbike like many of the men.
But - there was this one gem of a Harmonie that we would run across every few weeks. Unlike her traditional counterparts, she was pretty darn chubby (basically, fat, but it's rude to call grandmas fat) and she had a very unique form of transportation: a four-wheeler. (The only one I EVER saw in Korea.)
She would plop herself down on this growling vehicle, and as the wind blew wildly through her short curls, with a smug curl of the lip and a twinkle in her eye, she would ride through town all, "That's right. Look at ME!"
We would always wave as she roared passed, and she, very pleased, would nod gracefully back.
Gumbitch Park
Already you're laughing, aren't you? We sure did once we saw the poor romanization of what is really a beautiful name, meaning "golden light." As odd as its name, this small park sat right around the corner from our church building. It was a great place to meet drunken people. Or mothers with young children. A strange mix of demographics.
Every day, you could walk past and see something spectacular. Go by on a Thursday morning, and find six drunken people (both men and women) sprawled across benches, flowerbeds, and pathways, chunks of fork-skewered-watermelon scattered about them.
There were several amusing aspects of this scene. First of all, it was clear they opened the watermelon by smashing it on the ground. Second of all, who uses forks in Korea? No one, that's who. And finally, who drinks so early in the morning that they are fully drunk, have managed to slime up an entire park with watermelon remains, and then pass out - all before 11am? It's a wonderful mystery.
The Shark Lady
Perhaps my favorite sight of all, was the day that we walked past the street market and got an eyeful of something spectacular! This market was nestled in a diagonal alley, squashed between some old, brick apartments and a line of nice shops, including a pizza place, a beauty shop, and a bakery. The end of the market would spill out onto the corner in front of the bakery.
On that corner was a lady that would sell seafood from a large tub of water - mostly clams, muscles, and occasionally little crabs. But one day, we noticed people veering off in her direction, with puzzled looks on their faces.
Now, it took quite a lot for people in Geumcheon to show real curiosity. So, we too started in her direction, only to see her sitting on her overturned bucket as proud as a queen on her throne, with a foam box of ice at her feet. On top of that ice lay a 4-foot baby shark, fully intact with a piece of ice wedged between its jaws, like a hog with an apple in its mouth.
We stared, stunned. Question number one: where did she get this thing? Question number two: who on earth would buy it? But it was gone the next day, so clearly, someone did!
Just Your Average Day
These memories were some of my fondest, although you can be sure they are just the tip of the ice berg. From a re-incarnated Elvis (outfit, motorcycle, and all) to an angry woman chasing a man down the street with a bloody knife in her hand (somehow, that wasn't alarming?), the adventures never ended. I'm grateful for the time I spend in this quirky area, with all it's insane people, drunk people, but most of all kind and wonderful people. (Perhaps their stories will come at another time.)
So in conclusion, I'd like to say thanks, God, for sending me there.
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
A Short Burst of Pet Peeves
Hey Goog, what's up? Today, I'm going to complain just a bit. It'll be fun!
NUMBER 1: when white people try to be Asian
This is one of those things in life that tears me in two. Being half-Korean myself, I am trilled when non-Asians love Korean culture. It is truly amazing and deserves to be loved by all. But at the same time, I am totally creeped out when white people try to be Asian.
Chubby, mousy-haired white kids learning Taekwando; blond, blue-eyed girls crying "oppa, oppa!" to K-pop stars; non-stick-like white dudes piercing their ears, growing sweepy hair, and wearing form-fitting pants. Just stop. Please.
(Fortunately, dear mission friends of mine, this excludes you. Somehow the years you spent living the Korean life made you so, despite your whiteness. You are Asian in my eyes.)
Do I have a solution to this problem? Yes. But no. You already saw my solution above: just stop. Please. But my humble plead will never change this sad reality - there will always be white people who try to be what they aren't.
NUMBER 2: the paradox of summer
Summer in Utah is H.O.T. hot. Which is fine. Because there is no humidity. Thank HEAVENS. But what irks me about the summertime, is that I spend most of my days freezing. How is this? I think we've all been there. It's because of the stupid office who tries to overcompensate for the heat outside by blasting the AC inside.
I seriously have to wear a coat in the office to keep my face from turning purple. And it usually turns purple anyway. Everyone complains, but the thermostat never changes. Curse them!
NUMBER 3: school zones
Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for school zones. Keep those kids safe! But what does bug me, is that person driving in front of me who thinks they need to slow down to 20mph (or slower) when the flashing sign comes into SIGHT, not when they actually approach it.
So I sit there, crawling miserably behind some giant SUV that I didn't even know was capable of going that slow, panicking unnecessarily about the whole minute this slow-down is going to make me late for work. It's a lose-lose situation.
NUMBER 4: overflowing hot cereal
It ruins my morning every day. Doesn't matter what it is: oatmeal, cream of wheat, gritz...it will ALWAYS overflow the bowl in the microwave, wasting my precious food and making me clean first thing in the morning. You'd think I'd learn to stop and just eat cold cereal. Well...one of these days...
IN CONCLUSION
So, that is my current list of pet-peeves AKA hastag first world problems. Fortunately, I will not spend my life miserable because of these pet peeves, because I know how to overcome them. Pres. Uchtdorf told me how: stop it! Besides, I've got a great family, fabulous friends, Kpop, Kdramas, religion, savings, my water bottle, an education, youth and health. So I'm good. *Sigh.
NUMBER 1: when white people try to be Asian
This is one of those things in life that tears me in two. Being half-Korean myself, I am trilled when non-Asians love Korean culture. It is truly amazing and deserves to be loved by all. But at the same time, I am totally creeped out when white people try to be Asian.
Chubby, mousy-haired white kids learning Taekwando; blond, blue-eyed girls crying "oppa, oppa!" to K-pop stars; non-stick-like white dudes piercing their ears, growing sweepy hair, and wearing form-fitting pants. Just stop. Please.
(Fortunately, dear mission friends of mine, this excludes you. Somehow the years you spent living the Korean life made you so, despite your whiteness. You are Asian in my eyes.)
Do I have a solution to this problem? Yes. But no. You already saw my solution above: just stop. Please. But my humble plead will never change this sad reality - there will always be white people who try to be what they aren't.
NUMBER 2: the paradox of summer
Summer in Utah is H.O.T. hot. Which is fine. Because there is no humidity. Thank HEAVENS. But what irks me about the summertime, is that I spend most of my days freezing. How is this? I think we've all been there. It's because of the stupid office who tries to overcompensate for the heat outside by blasting the AC inside.
I seriously have to wear a coat in the office to keep my face from turning purple. And it usually turns purple anyway. Everyone complains, but the thermostat never changes. Curse them!
NUMBER 3: school zones
Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for school zones. Keep those kids safe! But what does bug me, is that person driving in front of me who thinks they need to slow down to 20mph (or slower) when the flashing sign comes into SIGHT, not when they actually approach it.
So I sit there, crawling miserably behind some giant SUV that I didn't even know was capable of going that slow, panicking unnecessarily about the whole minute this slow-down is going to make me late for work. It's a lose-lose situation.
NUMBER 4: overflowing hot cereal
It ruins my morning every day. Doesn't matter what it is: oatmeal, cream of wheat, gritz...it will ALWAYS overflow the bowl in the microwave, wasting my precious food and making me clean first thing in the morning. You'd think I'd learn to stop and just eat cold cereal. Well...one of these days...
IN CONCLUSION
So, that is my current list of pet-peeves AKA hastag first world problems. Fortunately, I will not spend my life miserable because of these pet peeves, because I know how to overcome them. Pres. Uchtdorf told me how: stop it! Besides, I've got a great family, fabulous friends, Kpop, Kdramas, religion, savings, my water bottle, an education, youth and health. So I'm good. *Sigh.
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Lovely Germany, Lovely Austria
Dear Google - you already know this (because you told me), but some soul in Germany viewed my blog, probably by accident, but it happened! I find this particularly serendipitous because I. love. Germany! I lived there, after all. For 3 months. And if you count the time I also spent in Austria, that makes 6 months in a German-speaking country.
Now don't you worry, all you Germans and Austrians who may stumble across this post - I certainly know the vast difference between the two of you and don't clump you together as one giant nation like too much of the world does. I appreciate the differences, the rivalries, the strengths, and quirks of each of your separate nations. And I love you both, with different portions of my heart.
But since it was a German who "checked out" my blog, here's a tribute to you first:
Germany is basically the coolest country ever. (But, I say that about a handful of other select countries as well.) But here is my reasoning for Germany deserving the title "Coolest Country Ever." First, they are super stable. Germany is never in a panic. They saved Greece, they stabilize the EU, Angela Merkel is could be the queen of Europe, and they have the best football (as in soccer) leagues on the continent. And their pastries just can't be beat. Aaand President Uchtdorf is German, so what up world.
Germany holds the part of my heart that loves power, confidence, pride, and street-smarts (all in the best sense, of course). Because that is what Germany is all about. They know what's going down around them and are ready and confident to take face it head on. But they still know how to party, how to be romantic, and better than anyone - they know how to rock the grunge look.
Hats off to you Germany, Sie sind am Beste!
And now for my lovely Austria,
To me, you are elegance, charm, class, and romance. When I think back on my time in Austria, everything seems to be hazed with a glimmer of gold. The lovely people I met, my beloved host family, the beautiful elegance of the architecture, the calm evening atmosphere, and the mystic spirit that floats out of the opera halls, museums, and cafes.
Your natural scenery is equally as stunning as anywhere else in Europe, or the world, and the ghosts of romantic histories seem to enchant the old palaces, cathedrals, woods, and vineyards. There is a timelessness about you that cannot be found ANYWERE else.
Austria, you are the seat of charm in this world, and I will always feel your loving touch on my heart.
And, that is that for this post. I'll not bore you with the novels of over-dramatic experiences, memories, and thoughts of my European life. Although I'm sure some will pop out in the future. Keep an eye out if you're interested.
So, in conclusion, thank you random German person for stumbling across my blog. Alles Gute! Auf Wiedersehen!
Now don't you worry, all you Germans and Austrians who may stumble across this post - I certainly know the vast difference between the two of you and don't clump you together as one giant nation like too much of the world does. I appreciate the differences, the rivalries, the strengths, and quirks of each of your separate nations. And I love you both, with different portions of my heart.
But since it was a German who "checked out" my blog, here's a tribute to you first:
Germany is basically the coolest country ever. (But, I say that about a handful of other select countries as well.) But here is my reasoning for Germany deserving the title "Coolest Country Ever." First, they are super stable. Germany is never in a panic. They saved Greece, they stabilize the EU, Angela Merkel is could be the queen of Europe, and they have the best football (as in soccer) leagues on the continent. And their pastries just can't be beat. Aaand President Uchtdorf is German, so what up world.
Germany holds the part of my heart that loves power, confidence, pride, and street-smarts (all in the best sense, of course). Because that is what Germany is all about. They know what's going down around them and are ready and confident to take face it head on. But they still know how to party, how to be romantic, and better than anyone - they know how to rock the grunge look.
Hats off to you Germany, Sie sind am Beste!
And now for my lovely Austria,
To me, you are elegance, charm, class, and romance. When I think back on my time in Austria, everything seems to be hazed with a glimmer of gold. The lovely people I met, my beloved host family, the beautiful elegance of the architecture, the calm evening atmosphere, and the mystic spirit that floats out of the opera halls, museums, and cafes.
Your natural scenery is equally as stunning as anywhere else in Europe, or the world, and the ghosts of romantic histories seem to enchant the old palaces, cathedrals, woods, and vineyards. There is a timelessness about you that cannot be found ANYWERE else.
Austria, you are the seat of charm in this world, and I will always feel your loving touch on my heart.
And, that is that for this post. I'll not bore you with the novels of over-dramatic experiences, memories, and thoughts of my European life. Although I'm sure some will pop out in the future. Keep an eye out if you're interested.
So, in conclusion, thank you random German person for stumbling across my blog. Alles Gute! Auf Wiedersehen!
Monday, April 7, 2014
When Serendipity Asserts Herself
Serendipity, Lady Luck, the blessings of God. Basically all the same thing, just worded differently for romantics, gamblers, and religious people. (For the record, I'm actually a fan of "blessings of God," but I didn't want to risk sounding sacrileg by accident - because I tend to get a little carried away when I write.)
So, today, Google, I'd like to tell you about a time when Serendipity made a great effort on my behalf.
Once upon a time, I was in Germany, studying abroad. We were having a fabulous time, even though it was rainy, like ALWAYS. Once, while we were prancing about the damp gardens of the Palace at Potsdam, honoring the fallen hounds of Fredrick the Great, a couple of friends and I were like, "Hey! Let's go to Scotland!"
And so it was. A few weeks later, we jetted off to the mystic moors and crumbly castles of Scotland. There was nothing to disappoint. Beautiful weather, hilarious tour guides, breathtaking scenery, delicious food, and a trip to Hogwarts.
But even more thrilling than stealing water from Loch Ness to preserve in little Scottish whiskey flasks, was the moment Serendipity decided to pull out all her stops.
On the last day of our trip, my friends and I had decided to just wander around the beautiful, ancient streets of Edinburgh and see what kind of adventure we could rustle up. As we casually strolled down Kings Street, we heard some commotion from down below. We hurried down to see what was up and received the thrill of our lives.
Unbeknownst to us, it was National Arms Day. Do you even realize what that means?! Well, let me tell you. It means a parade of hundreds of men in uniform. It means lots of kilts, bagpipes, drums, and NOBLE PEOPLE. Noble people with gold chains, walking sticks, large hats, and glory. Lots of glory.
Needless to say, we just about died. We claimed a front line spot and nearly overdosed on the glory. The parade ended in the square underneath the towering Edinburgh castle, where military men, musicians, nobles, and commoners mingled. A few minutes later, the parade participants entered a courtyard-like place surrounded by a large, green hedge.
My friends and I peeped over the top of the hedge, watching like creepers. Then a kindly military man tapped us on the shoulder and told us cheerfully to go on in and "have some cake and tea." Truly, Serendipity was working overtime on our behalf.
Trying to suppress our utter thrill, we graciously accepted. We entered the courtyard of heaven. After hovering nervously a few hundred feet from the large tent where the "cake and tea" was being served, we finally saw another "pedestrian" go over to partake of the goodies. So, we took a deep breath and headed into the swarm of uniforms.
And let me tell you, those Scottish gents are unbelievably charming. In the bustle of the refreshment tent, I accidentally bumped into a kilted man's bagpipes. But before I could even begin to apologize, the man turned and said, "Oh, I'm sorry love!"
I was struck speechless. I think I managed an appropriate response, but I don't really remember. After all, a Scottish bagpiper just called me "love."
A few seconds later, my friends and I were struggling towards the orange juice table, when a noble who had just picked up a glass of juice turned and saw us. He instantly offered his cup to my friend and said something completely charming that I honestly can't recall. My "wow" factor had already been blown into outer space.
Dazzled and giggling, we made our way back to some seats and enjoyed a couple of hours listening to the Lord Proverst of Edinburgh speak, watching traditional folk musicians perform, and taking creeper pictures of good looking soldiers and nobles.
We finally left, happy and ready to die. But first we ate a pulled pork sandwich (actually watching the meat be pulled from the haunches of a roasted pig in the window). Then we died of ultimate happiness.
Serendipity, thank you. I hope we meet again soon!
So, today, Google, I'd like to tell you about a time when Serendipity made a great effort on my behalf.
Once upon a time, I was in Germany, studying abroad. We were having a fabulous time, even though it was rainy, like ALWAYS. Once, while we were prancing about the damp gardens of the Palace at Potsdam, honoring the fallen hounds of Fredrick the Great, a couple of friends and I were like, "Hey! Let's go to Scotland!"
And so it was. A few weeks later, we jetted off to the mystic moors and crumbly castles of Scotland. There was nothing to disappoint. Beautiful weather, hilarious tour guides, breathtaking scenery, delicious food, and a trip to Hogwarts.
But even more thrilling than stealing water from Loch Ness to preserve in little Scottish whiskey flasks, was the moment Serendipity decided to pull out all her stops.
On the last day of our trip, my friends and I had decided to just wander around the beautiful, ancient streets of Edinburgh and see what kind of adventure we could rustle up. As we casually strolled down Kings Street, we heard some commotion from down below. We hurried down to see what was up and received the thrill of our lives.
Unbeknownst to us, it was National Arms Day. Do you even realize what that means?! Well, let me tell you. It means a parade of hundreds of men in uniform. It means lots of kilts, bagpipes, drums, and NOBLE PEOPLE. Noble people with gold chains, walking sticks, large hats, and glory. Lots of glory.
Needless to say, we just about died. We claimed a front line spot and nearly overdosed on the glory. The parade ended in the square underneath the towering Edinburgh castle, where military men, musicians, nobles, and commoners mingled. A few minutes later, the parade participants entered a courtyard-like place surrounded by a large, green hedge.
My friends and I peeped over the top of the hedge, watching like creepers. Then a kindly military man tapped us on the shoulder and told us cheerfully to go on in and "have some cake and tea." Truly, Serendipity was working overtime on our behalf.
Trying to suppress our utter thrill, we graciously accepted. We entered the courtyard of heaven. After hovering nervously a few hundred feet from the large tent where the "cake and tea" was being served, we finally saw another "pedestrian" go over to partake of the goodies. So, we took a deep breath and headed into the swarm of uniforms.
And let me tell you, those Scottish gents are unbelievably charming. In the bustle of the refreshment tent, I accidentally bumped into a kilted man's bagpipes. But before I could even begin to apologize, the man turned and said, "Oh, I'm sorry love!"
I was struck speechless. I think I managed an appropriate response, but I don't really remember. After all, a Scottish bagpiper just called me "love."
A few seconds later, my friends and I were struggling towards the orange juice table, when a noble who had just picked up a glass of juice turned and saw us. He instantly offered his cup to my friend and said something completely charming that I honestly can't recall. My "wow" factor had already been blown into outer space.
Dazzled and giggling, we made our way back to some seats and enjoyed a couple of hours listening to the Lord Proverst of Edinburgh speak, watching traditional folk musicians perform, and taking creeper pictures of good looking soldiers and nobles.
We finally left, happy and ready to die. But first we ate a pulled pork sandwich (actually watching the meat be pulled from the haunches of a roasted pig in the window). Then we died of ultimate happiness.
Serendipity, thank you. I hope we meet again soon!
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