The Case for Globalization, and Perfect Scottish Mornings

Our entire globe has apparently decided to convene in one tiny country called Scotland.

In less than a week, I have made a ridiculous amount of friends from an incredible assortment of nations from all over the world. New friends: my flatmate from Buenos Aires, Argentina (and my other flatmate from Ohio); a fellow NFL fan from Mexico City, Mexcio; my Ceilidh dancing partner from Moscow, Russia; a fellow nationalism studies enthusiast from Norway; an independent explorer from central China; a peer in Social Anthropology from Poland; a social scientist from Montreal, Canada; a goofy rugby fan from Queensland, Australia; and another Social Anthropology student from York, UK (who studied at Oxford - wow!). The only problem I'm having making new friends is remembering how to pronounce their names!

I feel incredibly lucky to be at a university with such a global pull. The exchange of ideas and culture in the classroom alone will be fascinating, not to mention how amazing it will be to get to know these people on a deeper level. They all represent such a wide variety of experience and outlook; I can't think of a better place to begin my studies in anthropology.

On a separate note, I had quite a Scottish experience this morning. I went for a jog towards Hollyrood Park, which holds the rock face that is very distinguishable in most photographs of Edinburgh. Trails lead around the rock face up to a craggy hill locals call Arthur's Peak, the highest point in the city, which is quite an intensive climb. As I arrived on the dirt path leading around the rock face, I heard bagpipe music. 200 yards away in a green valley hidden between the rock face and the peak, a bagpiper dressed in traditional Scottish tartan practiced traditional song. The music followed me as the trail began to ascend. I decided to take a breath by some rocks set along the hillside. As I got closer to the stones, I noticed a crumbling building overlooking the city, tucked away from the main trail -- St Anthony's Chapel, as it turns out, built in the 15th and last repaired in the 16th century. I sat in the ruined chapel's doorway on the hillside of Arthur's Seat and watched the city move with the bagpiper's music in my ear. In that moment, I thought about how grateful I was to be exposed to this beautiful country, and proud of myself for getting here. For me, that was a profound and euphoric experience.

At the end of my first week of induction, I am feeling at home, enthusiastic, and frankly, a little blown away. This must be what the "honeymoon" stage of culture shock feels like. I'm enjoying it! Next stage: "hostility"!