What Scotland Means to Me

Pictured above is my great grandad, mom, dad and me in Lochearnhead, Scotland.

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To me, Scotland is not solely a destination for vacation as it is for so many Americans. Although breathtaking landscapes scattered with magical castles and villages are something to marvel at -and it truly is a wonderful country to visit for vacation- it carries a more personal significance to me. As I stir my morning cup of Scottish breakfast tea while writing this, the strong taste brings me back to wandering my way through the streets of Scotland, under the shadows of castles and churches -- much older than that of my home country. Throughout the streets, the aroma of fresh fish and chips (that America still can’t quite get right) lingers well beyond the closing of the shops. All these memories put me at peace as I slowly drink my tea. However, as special as tea, fish and chips, or old castles are, having a Dad born and raised in Scotland makes it that much more special. I treasure the Scottish culture deeply since I have very close ties to it.

In 1979 my dad was born in a small seaside town on the East coast of Scotland. Nestled along the coast of the Firth of Forth, across from the well known Edinburgh, lies Kirkcaldy. My dad lived in Kirkcaldy until he turned twenty and won a scholarship to play golf at Florida State University. Being the true Scot he is, my dad was and still is very good at golf. Intriguingly enough, Scotland is the birthplace of golf. Hung on the wall to this day at the Kirkcaldy golf club is his plaque he received for being the best golfer at the club. Being the best golfer at a club in Scotland? Truly, that is a testament to my dad's golf skills. My dad represented his heritage as a Scottish born golfer at tournaments around the world.

Golf will always be so special to him, and to me, because it brought my dad here. I can see him reminiscing about home whenever he watches golf on TV, because it brings back many memories from his first nineteen years on this planet. Often I will ask him to tell me stories about growing up in Scotland. He reminisces about playing golf, driving around the beautiful roads through the countryside, and drinking Irn Bru, the national drink of Scotland. Being that he is a history nerd, the conversation often turns to his Scottish view on history: how it was like to be alive in Europe during the Cold War, or stories of his grandparents living through the bombing of Britain (things that are sometimes overlooked in an American classroom). Home is something he could never forget. He still remembers his way around Kirkcaldy, where all the best chippy shops are, his favorite golf spots, and the best Scottish country roads to drive on. Kirkcaldy holds a special place in his heart, as do all the places where we grew up and played as children. It’s tough when these places are “across the pond” as they say, and even tougher when you have close relatives far away and in different time zones.

The distance and busy life schedules makes visiting tough to plan, but every so often we fly to visit my grandparents, uncles, aunts and cousins in Scotland. Everytime I prepare my Scottish tea, I long for the authentic tea aroma I woke up to every morning that was made by my Scottish grandma. It could be the bias of being in a far off land across an ocean, or surrounded by family members I hardly ever see. All of this is true and adds to the experience, but it is also true the Scottish tea from Scotland is simply better than the Scottish tea in America. My grandma, or G-ma as I call her, lives in a flat or as we would call it a townhome, in Kirkcaldy. I can remember sitting at her little table sipping our teas and discussing what to make of the day. Would we go see medieval castles? Visit the Highlands? Tour the town of Kirkcaldy? Eat fish and chips? Of course we would eat Fish and Chips, I would tell myself. I would beg to have that for lunch everyday and my dad and G-ma would laugh and say there is so much more food to try. Of course, they were right.

Perhaps the best part of all these memories is that I will be able to share them with my own family one day. I will tell them the story of how I visited Scotland when I was their age. I will share with them parts of their Scottish culture. I will someday show them pictures of me in Scotland with my family (like this one below). And one day, I can take them to these same places my dad has shown me. I will tell them this is where their grandfather grew up. I will watch their jaws drop as they take in the magical castles and beautiful villages. Arguably most importantly, I’ll watch their excitement when they taste what a real fish and chips dish tastes like!