live. move. be.

While attending an international student meeting on Wednesday, my American flatmate and I were seated beside four Polish architecture students from Warsaw. We were thrilled when they invited us to their flat for dinner. After a trip to our local grocery store for supplies, we all piled into their small university kitchen, where their French roommate was already cooking a Scottish meat pie, complete with beef, peas, onions, and mysterious spices. I was quite impressed to see him rolling out handmade pastry dough in his checkered apron, looking like a seasoned Parisian chef (it put the Americans to culinary shame, considering that we have barely touched a frying pan since arrival, much less a rolling pen and flour ). The Polish students proceeded to cook some delicious carbonara pasta with lots of bacon, and we rounded out the meal by making Greek salad and setting out a plate of tiramisu truffles. It was truly more food than a human being should consume in one sitting, but so incredibly delicious.

Considering that our hosts were European, it was assumed that bottles of wine must be bought with the meal. As we ate, my flatmate and I attempted to explain why it's not always customary for Americans to drink alcohol with every meal (after they questioned us about it).The concept seemed pretty strange to our international friends. When they asked us why it was not as common as in Europe, we listed a few reasons, including the fact that some people consider it a moral issue. “Moral?” the French student exclaimed in disbelief. “In France you are considered an immoral person if you do not drink!” We all got a pretty big laugh out of that.

Yesterday, my flatmate Kelsey and I walked past the Glasgow Cathedral and up the hill to the Necropolis, a enormous graveyard filled with gigantic monuments, tombs, and gravestones. Combined with the whipping wind and dark, cloudy sky, it made an eerily beautiful scene, and gave us a good vantage point from which to look out over the city.

This weekend is the Merchant City Festival---Merchant City is the district about a block from where I live. I walked down there this morning to find a French and an Italian market, set up in booths along the streets. There were really interesting booths....filled with handmade soap, cookies (or “biscuits” as they are called here), candy, crepes, sausage, cheese, and a booth entirely devoted to different varieties of olives. On one of the streets with less classy, “unofficial” vendors, there was a booth selling really poorly-made Native American crafts like windcatchers and feathered headdresses. It struck me as really hilarious to see in the middle of Scotland, particularly since the booth's Scottish manager was wearing a large, gaudy headdress himself.

I also met my first actual Scottish friend last night, an incredibly friendly gal from the Isle of Skye who is going to take me to visit her church this Sunday. I'm really excited about finally knowing a real Scot and beginning a search for a good church community here in Glasgow.

And tonight, I finally a catching my breath a bit. I've gone out with people every night since I arrived and it's beginning to wear me a bit thin. Though the fluorescent lights in my room are pretty dismal, it feels good to just be resting and be alone for a brief moment in the midst of a hectic, social week.