Homestay + Fire

This post will concern two things:

1) Homestay in Stirling

2) Juggling Fire!

So part of the IFSA Butler program is to spend a weekend in the home of a Scottish family. I was paired with Juliana (complete coincidence; we didn't have any choice in the matter) and sent to Stirling by bus, which picked us up in St. Andrews. The ride was, by all accounts, uncomfortable, due to the bus driver's erratic driving habits and the winding roads of midland Scotland. I enjoyed a conversation with Aaron for the duration of the trip, and luckily we were seated at the front of the bus, with a view out the windshield, so neither of us were motion sick. Unfortunately I can't speak for everyone...

We arrived in Stirling and waited in a cold, dark, empty car park for about 45 minutes. We decided to call the coordinator of the program, and we found out that our families were told differently, and were waiting in a park about a 10 minute drive away. Our bus driver, already disgruntled by various events, turned downright nasty and yelled at the coordinator, a tiny elderly woman, when we arrived at the right car park. She put him in his place, however, and he drove off. We didn't have to negotiate with him anymore, which was a relief. We were met by our families, and some were driven off to the homestays. Juliana and I rode a taxi to our host mother, because she didn't drive. When we arrived, she was standing in the doorway, and told us immediately to take off our shoes. The house was immaculate, but I don't want to give the wrong impression: she was very hospitable and encouraged us to make ourselves comfortable.

Our host mother, Mary, is at least 80 years old, with a bad leg and widowed. She has 3 grandchildren, their pictures proudly displayed in her bay window. She had recently moved to Stirling from London, where she had lived all her life, to be close with her sister and nieces and nephews. The neighborhood she lives in now is a little rough, but she completely updated and redecorated the house, with upscale kitchen appliances and very comfortable, new furniture. She's very fond of air fresheners (she had those little contraptions that *puff* freshener every few minutes. It took awhile to get used to their little exhalations) and she loves trifle.

That's about all I found out about her, unfortunately. We did our best to draw her out and talk with us, but she seemed to think that we would prefer to keep to ourselves, and was surprised that we wanted to spend time with her. The TV was on constantly, and since there was a TV in the living room, dining room, and her bedroom, she was never without it. Her bad leg kept her from going out much, though she said that she occasionally walked into town with her sister. She wasn't lazy, per se. Like I said, the house was immaculately clean and organized, and she insisted on cooking for us and doing the dishes (towards the end of the weekend, she didn't insist as much; I was allowed to make lunch on Sunday and load the dishwasher). Every time we entered the house, she offered hot drinks. I really didn't know what to make of the situation, and did my best to encourage conversation. We were there, after all, to get acquainted with Scottish culture. Unfortunately, she couldn't tell us much about Stirling (having only lived there a few months), and I think the only thing I learned about UK households is that television plays a big role.

Ah, it feels cruel to tell it this way. She really was a sweet woman, and I think she really appreciated our company, for what it was. She had us give her our addresses, so she could "send Christmas cards." I thought that was incredibly sweet, an indication that she liked us, even if she wasn't expressing it in curiosity about us.

On Saturday, we were picked up by the taxi service hired by the homestay program, and were taken to the William Wallace Monument. Built in the late 19th century, the monument is a essentially a stone tower, topped with gothic-style spires. It was raining, but the setting was still beautiful: the monument is set on a hill, overlooking the town and the autumn colors, with mountains in the distance. After listening to a William Wallace reenactor, we climbed the steps to the top of the tower. It was like entering a different level of the atmosphere (though in reality, we weren't incredibly high; only high enough to be a danger to low-flying airplanes): very high winds, very fast, pelting rain. The wind really was incredible, which is kind of a theme for Scotland. Definitely rivaled the gale force winds in Anstruther.

We then got back into taxis and drove into town, to see the Stirling Castle. Unfortunately, we only had 15 minutes to see it, an no one wanted to pay the 5 pound charge to get in, so we wandered around the gift shop.

We then walked down the hill to the Old Town Jail, now a museum with a theatrical tour. Fairly self-explanatory; the Scots apparently pride themselves on their history of reformative prisons.

After the prison, we were set loose into the city; though, as we had no map and no tour book, we had no way to direct ourselves. Unfortunately, we ended up at the Stirling mall, wandering aimlessly and vaguely hungry. We hailed another taxi, which took us back to our homes. Juliana and I ate chicken curry with Mary, then watched the British equivalent of Dancing with the Stars, called Strictly Come Dancing.

On Sunday, I made Skyline chili for Mary and Juliana. It was more or less a success; Juliana liked it and Mary was happy not to cook. Around 3:15, we were picked up again, and we boarded the bus back to St. Andrews.

Now, fire juggling! The St. Andrews JuggleSoc has fire nights every month or so, on Castle Sands, and last night was the first I was able to attend. I was pretty nervous (never juggled fire before), but incredibly excited. Juliana came with me, acting as my official photographer. It was 8pm, well after sunset, and my biggest worry was the fact that I wouldn't be able to see the torches, only the flames. So I arrived, some people gave me vague advice on how to do it, I soaked the torches in paraffin, and gave it a try. At first I was failing miserably, dropping them over and over again. But then I got the hang of it, got used to the sound of flames twirling in my face (it's quite loud!), and figured out where the torch handles were in the dark. It was so fun! I singed the hair off my hands, but I'm none the worse for wear. The paraffin doesn't burn that hot, really.

I originally was going to leave it at torches, but I was feeling brazen and decided to try fire poi. I'm not a great poi spinner, but I did all right. I think it has more of a spectacular element than juggling anyway. Juliana took pictures, Aaron showed up after a while, and John took his mother down to see it. Others were doing fire poi, staff, and these fire fan things, which were pretty cool. I'm glad I got the chance to work with fire, and I'm psyched about getting a fire show going at Kenyon when I get back.

Now, I just need to write my Montaigne essay, and then I can enjoy Halloween. Juliana and I are thinking of dressing up as Grendel and Beowulf, respectively. I'll be sure to get pictures!

Signing off,

Your fearless explorer