Monday, April 7, 2008

stereotypes

I have been pondering a bit about stereotypes and misconceptions ever since speaking with the Londoner who stopped by the office. (He works for an international company with an office in the north state.) I told him I was planning a journey, a pilgrimage of sorts, to the Hebrides, mainly to South Uist. It was very exciting as he was the first person I have met who had been to Scotland! I seized the moment and he was very agreeable to answering all my questions. We chatted for a while about Scottish Gaelic and heather and midges and Scottish “independence” from Great Britain and all sorts of things and I could tell he was amused. I continue to learn a lot by researching the net and it is all becoming sweetly familiar, but the practical stuff is evasive, like how much should one pay for a pair of Willies? (5₤) And yes, Skye is as impressively beautiful as the photos. Of course, I am partial to the windswept flat landscape of S Uist, but one can't deny the absolute majesty of Skye. (I found this dusty old book at the used bookstore amonst all the newer typical travel books. Had to use the footladder to get it off the upper shelf and from the moment I took at peak inside, I knew I had found a treasure. Written in 1929, H.V. Morton describes beautifully his emotional reaction to seeing Skye for the first time. On the boat through the mist.....)

I was taken aback by his comment that being from California translates to living in Hollywood, or at least having a Hollywood type lifestyle. Yikes. I don’t know what that means, but to be thought of as one of the self absorbed Plastic People is horrifying. LA is about 450 miles and a world away. I don’t live next to a movie star, I am not rich, I have never surfed, freeway driving makes me anxious, gas guzzlers disgust me, I don’t spend my days shopping, my breasts are real thank you, Botox injections are gross, my children were born naturally... (I know I appear guilty of stereotyping; there are many wonderful and genuine people living in So. Calif.)

It is challenging enough to come from a country whose politics are disliked (with good reason) by many. I never voted for George W or his father. (That's not to say those who voted for him are bad people.) I disagreed completely with the war from day one. I am far from perfect, but I do live within my means while many of my countrymen run up debt and use up natural resources. Naturally one cannot help but be an ambassador and represent ones country. My hope is to somewhat blend into the landscape (after all my face is Scot/Irish) and if I am to be sized-up, to be judged for who I am.

S Uist is a small place and I imagine everyone knows what you are doing before you do it! I have nothing but love in my heart and have faith in the people of Scotland to see that. From all accounts, they are warm, lovely people. I am a bit worried I might somehow offend without meaning to offend. Sunday sabbath is strictly observed for example. In the book A House By the Shore, Alison Johnson describes the American visitors as being polite, enthusiastic and friendly. Sounds just about right. (My friendly nature has not worked so well in my favor, as my attempt to make friends in the Hebrides has not been successful...yet. I hold to the belief one will click when it is supposed to.) I suppose there is some need to be accepted but I do not require validation to be content.

Just knowing my family lived and loved and died on this land is good enough for me. I can't ignore the call anyway. My sense is the natives are a very close nit, proud nationalistic people who have been screwed over time and time again by the English (government not people). Might make one cautious of strangers and to question motives. I think the language, music and culture is remarkable; it is strange to be on the outside looking in. 150 years ago John and Margaret, like so many others, had no choice but to leave. But, what would have happened if everyone had stayed. John & Margaret had 10 children which was probably typical. Could the island have supported the generations from all the families who left? I wonder. The islands would not be as pristine as they are today. It helps to think my family leaving had a positive effect in the long run.

And when I go, technically I may be a tourist, but inside I won't feel like one. If I help dispel any misconceptions about myself and where I call home, all the better.