Burns' Night

Approximately 168 hours ago, I took part in a real Scottish tradition with a group of rather lovely people. Now Burns' Night is arguably (after, maybe...St. Andrew's day) the most Scottish holiday there is. In principle the goal of the night is to celebrate the life of Robert Burns, one of the greatest Scotsmen to ever live. Apparently he really loved whisky (Scottish spelling) and women, two things very close to my own heart. So that's really what we chose to focus on.

Mike and I get ready for the party

Not sure if I've even mentioned her in this blog (a pretty good indicator of just how unapologetically self-centered I really am), but I was invited to the gala by my close friend and classmate Jess. No I don't know what the deeper meaning is behind my befriending girls with that name, but it does seem to keep happening. Here is a picture of her enjoying the night's festivities with her boyfriend Calum (one of the only real Scottish people I hang out with here).

Jess and Calum

That was all well and good, as I'm always up for a genuine cultural experience like that, but somewhere in the planning process (likely a few pints in...and yes, that is how we tell time over here) Callum, another friend Mike, and I decided that it would be funny to incorporate a Western theme into the party. Not sure exactly how relevant it was, but after five months of being the only one dressed as a cowboy I was looking forward to actually fitting in a little bit.

Yes, some of those cowboys are wearing kilts

And so Burns' night commenced. I was requested to bring not one, but both of my banjos, and after a whisky or two I was easily convinced to play some songs for everyone. I think I started out with "Mama's Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to be Cowboys," which was (despite my rather poor musical skills) well received. Of course my skills were reduced over the course of the evening (due to the many Burns' toasts), but everyone put up with it very politely.

Increase in alcohol = decrease in talent (but increase in perceived ability to rock)

Soon after this, the dinner preparations had been finished and it was time for the first real Burns' Night tradition - the Ode to the Haggis. Now haggis seems to get a pretty bad rap in America, where people can't seem to accept the idea of eating something that's been cooked in a sheep's stomach. Not sure why people think this is different from eating sausages in normal casings, but that's beside the point. The point is, haggis is actually pretty delicious. It certainly deserves an ode every once in a while. First we had to play the haggis into the room (lacking a piper I had to banjo it in), but soon it was time for the speeches to commence. Callum recited Burns' famous poem from memory to much acclaim.

The haggis receives its just praise

Of course the food was only a small portion of the night. There was more drinking, more poems, more speeches and some more singing. Astonishingly, I even convinced some pretty Canadian girls to drop by for part of the evening. All in all it was a pretty spectacular evening, although the side-effects did somewhat hamper my ability to do school work the next day. It was great to to take a break from what has been a hectic school schedule and just relax with good friends and pretty decent whisky.

The reasons for wearing this hat are probably best not described in civilized company

All in all it was a great reminder that I actually live in this amazing place.

Steve and Mike enjoyed it too