No Fireworks

July 4--I must say it's rather weird being outside of the US on the 4th of July. This is the second time that I've done it but even so, the normalcy of just another Saturday gets to me. To celebrate in our own way we visited Bannockburn, the site of the decisive battle in 1314 when Scotland finally won its independence. Of course, Scotland joined the United Kingdom in 1707 but we like to think that learning about events where the English lost was good enough for our 4th of July.

I must say, it's impressive how many people know about our holiday. I understand the whole deal with the US being the last remaining "super power" thus projecting our history and customs on the rest of the world. Yet, it amazes me how many people wished us a happy 4th, or were able to talk to us about what happened in our war of independence. I sure as heck don't know much about other people's independece celebrations so I was very flattered that people remembered mine.

July 5--Since we are in fact exchanging churches, houses, cars, etc. with another pastor I had to to go to church so that my dad could "pay the rent." I must say, protestant worship isn't that different, no matter where you go. The Church of Scotland is relatively more conservative and traditional that the UCC but never the less it seemed very familiar. We were greeted very warmly by the members of the congregation, all of whom asked me about my studies and told me that I will love the University of Edinburgh. All in all it was a good time. 1 down, 4 to go.

July 6--Another football/ soccer day! My mom says that with each one I drag them to I have to go see another garden or museum--I guess I have to pay my dues eventually. Anyway, we went to Hampden Park in Glasgow, the National Staidum of Scotland--home to the national team and to the finals of many major competitions.

It was a great time. Despite the fact that I couldn't tour the stadium due to the setup for Bruce Springsteen, Coldplay, and U2, I spent a few hours in the Scottish Football Museum and Hall of Fame. It wasn't the most enthralling thing I'd ever done but I was able to learn a lot more about the game I love and especially about Rangers.

Ironically, in our haste to get to the stadium, we drove through the wrong part of Glasgow--the East End. Not only is this a very rough part of town, but it's home to Celtic Park and Celtic FC. I was wearing a bright blue Rangers top which I quickly ripped off in case some ruffian saw me. However, despite my utter hate of Celtic, I noticed the major differences between this neighberhood and the rest of the city. As many might know, Celtic is a Catholic club, founded by a priest to be a sporting outlett for Glasgow's Catholic community. This community is notoriously discriminated against, given the poorest jobs and confined to the worst parts of town. I won't get into all the nitty gritty details but I felt a bit of shame at seeing the discrimination and subjugation that many of my Protestant ancestors perpetrated. Thus, while I can't stand Celtic and find the Catholic church hypocritical and superstitious, I can't help but notice the terrible things that people do out of hate, especially that spurned by religious conviction.

Until next time...