The Educated Burgher

Dan & Kath Visit Edinburgh, Day 2

noreply@blogger.com (Justin) — Mon, 31 Jan 2011 11:22:00 +0000

Well, the so-called Christmas lull over at our new blog, The Senseitions, has long since come and passed, with only the one Scotland backlog post to show for it. I thought I'd knock out another tonight, leaving us only one or two posts here before we retire The Educated Burgher for good.

In our last post, we saw my parents visiting Edinburgh and the Scottish Borders on their first day in town. In this post, we head north, through Fife and Perthshire and into the edge of the Scottish Highlands.

Dunfermline Abbey

Our first stop on the day trip was the town of Dunfermline, just across the Firth of Forth in Fife. (Say that ten times fast.)

Dunfermline has several claims to fame: it's the birthplace of steel magnate and icon of Pittsburgh history Andrew Carnegie, it's the site of a sprawling medieval abbey, and it's the burial place of most of Robert the Bruce. (As we saw in our last post, his heart is supposedly buried at Melrose Abbey.)

We spent our time in Dunfermline at the abbey, exploring the ruins of its former splendor and the adjacent nineteenth-century church.

If you look closely, you'll notice that the Victorians saw fit to improve upon the stately medieval abbey by adding a neo-Gothic bell tower. And yes, the tower does say "Bruce" in giant letters.

The other abbey buildings, like many of Scotland's medieval ruins, are fun to explore.

A shot of the interior of the old abbey proper:

It's built in an older style than Melrose Abbey--you can tell from the rounded arches and the geometric patterns on the columns.

Behind the rood screen above is the Victorian part of the church, which is still in use today.

Under the pulpit is the tomb of Robert the Bruce, with a new-and-improved slab.

Dunkeld

Dunkeld is a pretty little town about 15 miles up the River Tay from Perth. It sits in Birnam Wood, made famous by the line from Shakespeare's Macbeth:

Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until
Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill
Shall come against him

We stopped in Dunkeld for lunch and to check out its cathedral, situated on beautiful grounds beside the river.

Nana and Kathy get their feet wet.

Catching some of that fabled Scottish sun. It does exist!

The old Dunkeld Cathedral.

The interior of part of the cathedral, which is still in use today. We were lucky enough to stumble upon a handbell choir concert here.

Loch Tummel and The Queen's View

We spent most of the afternoon driving a loop around Loch Tummel, which was also recommended by my dissertation advisor as one of Scotland's nicest drives.

The area is about as Scottish as it gets: dark water, thick woods, and rolling green hills backed by steep, heather-clad peaks.

You can see in the photo below why this spot was one of Queen Victoria's favorites, looking up the valley towards the high, pointed peak of Shiehallion in the background.

And that concludes Dan & Kath's Scottish adventure. Hopefully, they'll give us the chance to write about their Japanese adventures before too long!

Dan & Kath Visit Edinburgh, Day 1

noreply@blogger.com (Justin) — Fri, 31 Dec 2010 03:14:00 +0000

It's been a while, hasn't it? In case you missed the memo, Nana and I have moved to a new blog (not to mention a new continent!) over at The Senseitions. But just a few days before we left Edinburgh at the end of July, my parents, Dan & Kathy, came for a visit.

While the Senseitions drifts into its Christmas-break lull, I thought I'd try to put up a post or two about our distinguished guest and their whirlwind tour of Scotland.

Edinburgh

We spent the morning of our first day in Edinburgh proper, taking in the sights, such as the Castle, viewed from outside the parental unit's hotel in the Grassmarket.

Then, after a hot drink at the Elephant House and a stroll through Greyfriar's Kirkyard, a stop at the observation deck of the National Museum.

After which we toured the Castle itself for a bit.

On the way down the Royal Mile, we stopped for a photo of St. Giles from Parliament Square West.

With the Fringe Festival less than a week away, the Royal Mile was already seeing a smattering of street performers.

Scottish Borders

We spent the afternoon tootling around the Scottish Borders, taking a rural route recommended by my dissertation advisor. The photo below was taken roughly at the southern border of Midlothian, looking north. If you look closely, you can see Arthur's Seat (between our heads) and Castle Hill (to the left of my head) in the distance.

Typical upland scenery in Scotland: high, grassy hills that defy any sense of scale. (For reference, those tiny white dots in the foreground are sheep.)

The road we took wound through a municipal golf course and several working pastures, so we got pretty up close and personal with some of the sheep.

Our first stop in the Borders was St. Ronan's Well in Innetleithen. (Innerleithen is also home to Robert Smail's Printing Works, which we posted about a while ago.)

A pretty spot, for sure.

From Innetleithen, we continued on to Abbotsford, the palatial country home of one Sir Walter Scott.

I did my dissertation on a topic related to Sir Walter Scott, and had joined some colleagues for a tour a few weeks before, so this time I found myself playing the tour guide. A little practice for getting back in the classroom!

After Abbotsford, we stopped at nearby Melrose Abbey, one of several famous medieval abbeys in the Scottish Borders. Melrose Abbey is built in the Gothic style (check out those pointed arches). Of course, old red sandstone abounds.

We also made a brief stop at Rosslyn Chapel on the way back, but it's a hard place to take photos, so if you want to see the place I'll have to direct you to the Rosslyn Chapel Trust.

We ended the day back in Edinburgh with a hearty Scottish meal at Greyfriar's Bobby's Bar (background)--and, of course, the obligatory photo with Bobby out front.

My new camera . . .

noreply@blogger.com (Justin) — Sun, 22 Aug 2010 01:29:00 +0000

. . . is pink. We decided that means I have to take photos with both pinkies up.

The new camera is also waterproof, dustproof, and shockproof--which is how I ended up with a pink one, since the Besto Denki outlet only had the one Fujifilm WP Z in stock.

I figure, if I can get all that for under $90, I don't care if it's pink!

Reminder: Head On Over to The Senseitions!

noreply@blogger.com (Justin) — Thu, 19 Aug 2010 22:47:00 +0000

Just a reminder:

If you haven't already, check out our new Japan blog, The Senseitions (thesenseitions.blogspot.com).

Note: If you've signed up for e-mail updates or newsfeeds from The Educated Burgher, you'll have to sign up again on the new site. Same old procedure, though!

Moving to New Blog: The Senseitions

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 15 Aug 2010 11:00:00 +0000

Nana and I have finally decided to make the jump to a new blog, The Senseitions (http://thesenseitions.blogspot.com/), where we'll document all our Japanese adventures.

There's a chance we'll still post the occasional Scotland story here--we do have some photos from my parents' visit last month--but for the most part, The Educated Burgher has run its course. So head on over to the new site, sign up for the e-mail feed, and keep in touch!

Slate on the Slow Demise of the Japanese Economy

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 13 Aug 2010 23:05:00 +0000

Alexandra Harney of Slate has an interesting article up today about the perfect storm of economic stagnation and demographic decline that for the last decade-plus has had the Japanese economy locked into a slow downward spiral. The occasion for the article is a macabre hunt for bodies: some Japanese families have been hiding the deaths of their elderly relatives so as to continue collecting their retirement benefits, as in some cases one or two generations of un- or underemployed family members depend on these benefits to make ends meet. (You may remember a news story a week or so back about how the world's oldest man, a Tokyo resident, turns out to have passed away quite some time ago.)

But the article goes far beyond simple sensationalism, describing how many signs suggest that the US could be in the early stages of a similar spiral: high youth unemployment and underemployment, high and rising education costs, fears of deflation suppressing expansion, and aging population, and near-total legislative deadlock. Of course, in my opinion, the US may have a few trump cards up its sleeve that Japan doesn't, such as a stronger small-business tradition and, all the current noise about the issue aside, a much better track record of attracting, legalizing, and retaining immigrants. (Japan's extremely strict immigration policies certainly don't help with its shrinking population!)

On a different note, it turns out Fukuoka is one of the places in Japan bucking these trends: despite a downturn in the city's banking industry, according to Wikipedia Fukuoka is Japan's second-youngest city (average age: 38) and second-fastest-growing. There still seem to be a lot of unoccupied apartments--though I suspect that's partly the result of folks traveling for the summer, as well as the result of multi-generational families consolidating under one roof.

A Japanese Dinner

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 13 Aug 2010 09:34:00 +0000

We've had a lot of questions from friends and family about the food here in Japan. Well, we're happy to say that we really haven't had a bad meal yet. And when you can't read the menu, there's a lot of serendipity involved in procuring a meal.

Last night, for example, Nana and I went downtown for dinner with some friends. We chose the restaurant by the time-honored method of walking until we were too hungry not to stop at the first cool-looking place we saw. Then, as a group, we ordered one each of the five items on the "best" menu. (We couldn't tell if these were the specials or the most popular dishes. Or, of course, those with the highest profit margin.)

Here's what we got (with apologies in advance for the poor picture quality, and for the fact that I was a little slow with the camera at times):

-A fried scallion pancake, similar to a dish we had in Korea.

-Breaded & fried chicken with a mild mustard, ginger, & garlic sauce.

-Fried tamago (mildly sweet egg) stuffed with fish eggs. Gone too quickly for me to get a good photo!

-Simple fried gyoza (pork dumplings with a soy dipping sauce).

-Beef belly (think bacon, but with beef) stewed with potato & onion.

When we finished with these, we asked the waiter (in halting Japanese) to recommend something else. We ended up with motsunabe, a dish that originated right here in Fukuoka.

Motsunabe is a type of nabemono, which basically means it's a simple soy broth with a bunch of meat and veggies piled in it, and it cooks right in front of you at your table. The meat in Motsunabe is usually either pork or beef offal. Ours was cow stomach!

Which brings me to another early lesson we've learned about Japanese food: so far, it seems like they can take just about anything and make it tasty. That's not to say there isn't simple food here--one of the best meals we've had so far was basically a bowl of chicken noodle soup, sumo-style. But not knowing what we've been ordering has also led us to some great meals I don't think we would have found on our own.

Yakuza 3 Video Game Reviewed By . . . Yakuza

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 10 Aug 2010 23:43:00 +0000

The Yakuza are Japan's traditional organized crime syndicates. They have all the mystique here that old-school gangsters do in the US, and then some, so it's not surprising that Sega has build not one, but three video games around Yakuza culture.

What's more interesting is that Jake Adelstein, an American writer who worked the Tokyo crime beat, has gotten some of his old Yakuza contacts to test-drive the game. Here's his article, via BoingBoing.

So How's the Weather in Fukuoka?

noreply@blogger.com (Justin) — Tue, 10 Aug 2010 22:55:00 +0000

Hot and humid, but not quite as humid as we'd expected.

You see, when we heard Fukuoka had a rainy season, we assumed it was the same time as the rainy season in Korea, which after all is only a 3-hour ferry ride away. In Korea, summer comes in June, with a month of high temperatures and high humidity but relatively little rain, aside from the frequent but short afternoon thunderstorms. Then with July and August (give or take a few weeks) comes the rainy season, when it rains for days on end--and is so cloudy and humid the rest of the time that it might as well be raining.

Fukuoka, it turns out, is the opposite. The rains come in June and July, then the relatively drier summers season occupies August and part of September. So it's been hot as heck, but with some sun nearly every day!

A busy moving-in Saturday

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 07 Aug 2010 12:36:00 +0000

We promise better theme-oriented posts later but for now I thought I'd give you some more scattered scenes from "A day in the life of a teacher moving into Fukuoka International School."

Kumi is the FIS equivalent of Paul from APIS, hero of our Korea days, and she has been doing yeoman's work these last weeks moving all the faculty in. Back at APIS, the school took out long leases at different apartments around the neighborhood (or "dong" - which is the Korean word for "neighborhood," I kid you not) and moved teachers into the apartments as their contracts dictated. FIS is different, as each teacher shops for his or her own apartment and takes out his or her own lease. This is great in the sense that teachers can have more control over their layouts and locations, but really difficult for Kumi. She has to find out teacher preferences, find appropriate and foreigner-friendly listings, schedule viewings, make offers, negotiate rates, and sign contracts, all in a matter of days. And did I mention that Japanese apartments don't come with any appliances?

Justin and I chose back in March or so to pick up the lease of a former FIS teacher, actually the woman who held the same high school history post I'm taking. We feel kind of guilty about how leisurely and inexpensive this has made our move-in. We paid the teacher a lump sum for the major appliances and furniture in the apartment, which was much less than the replacement value, and which did not begin to touch the miscellaneous things we've since discovered, like the speakers, iPod dock, power strips, toaster, detergent, and jar of Nutella. (What? Justin likes Nutella.)

Today we tagged along with Kumi and the other teachers to the electronics store because we decided we wanted to add a blender and a computer monitor (for Slingbox TV viewing) to our embarrassment of riches. Thanks to Kumi's masterful negotiations, the price of the blender was reduced by about ten dollars, nearly half the price, and twenty dollars came off the computer screen. Oh, and they sold us the audio cable we needed for the speakers at about 1.30 off, which was kind of funny.

We had lunch at the mall food court next door - Korean food! Well, we always said that Korea has several really good meals, just not enough variety to eat for six months straight. And we had a Mister Donut, which Pittsburgh readers may remember from its failed attempted US expansion during Justin's childhood (they were vanquished by Dunkin).

After that... there was some unpacking to do, and some sorting, and some school planning, but it's a coastal 95 degree day and we just came from twelve months in Scotland. Clearly the right choice was to join fellow teacher Matt and his wife Ashley at the beach. A short ten-fifteen minute bike ride and massive applications of SPF 50 later, and we were in the water. The ocean here is so warm that after you've been in for a bit you have to get out and let the air on your skin cool you down. There is also a schizophrenic attitude towards tanning: some people are toasted golden brown and lying out in the sun, while others swim with shirts on over their bathing suits. It was a novel experience for Justin and me not to be the pastiest people on a beach. I'm honestly not sure this has ever happened before.

This evening we went to the grocery store and ended up in the middle of a street fair with some weird petting zoo going on, of which I think Justin took some pictures for later. The groceries are generally quite expensive here, particularly produce of any kind. Bananas are reasonable at around 95 cents a bunch, but everything else is quite high. Partly that's because we're used to UK prices on produce, which has come down significantly thanks to the EU trade zone, and partly it's because we've been away from the US and its inflation for so long that we've completely lost track of what things "should" even cost there anymore. Is $2 reasonable for maybe 1/3 of a cup of blueberries? Is 75 cents reasonable for a kiwi? I don't know. But I do know that the okra looks inexpensive, and so did a giant turnip, so it's off to Allrecipes.com to find something to make with those!

Some move-in thoughts

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 05 Aug 2010 11:43:00 +0000

Moving in has gone beyond smoothly here. The school has put us and the other new teachers up at a hotel (the Hotel Twins Momochi) while we move in, and the room is tiny (typical for Japan) but very clean and, most importantly, with excellent air conditioning. For your own reference, the yellow P1, P2, P3, and P4 buttons on the hotel television remote (the most prominent buttons) do NOT take you to presets, but rather, to dirty movies. I am seriously hoping those two seconds don't show up on the school's bill for the room.

Our new apartment is small, but we're pretty much used to that, and the more we sit in it, the better it feels. The small size is encouraging us to think critically about how much junk we really need, and about organizing and storing it in the most efficient and aesthetic way. We started inventorying the stuff left by the last teacher (and the teacher before her, I think, from the Canadian currency) on Tuesday and choosing what to keep and what to give away to other teachers. To our utter amazement, our shipment showed up today. All but one of our twelve boxes is now unpacked in the new apartment, and I'm boggled by how much clothing I own even after getting rid of three bags to charity shops in Edinburgh.

We have had... let's see, maybe eight meals now? And really, no complaints! I am not completely clear on dates after Monday, when we had cold buckwheat noodles, which we used to have in Korea as well, and tasted great on a hot day. Monday's dinner was ramen (salty soy for me, spicy for Justin). We've had sushi at a great little neighborhood place, owned by an awesome older couple who felt it their duty to teach us sushi vocabulary by pointing at things and enunciating them - at the soy sauce, MU-RA-SA-KI; for picked ginger, GA-RI (see, I was paying attention!). There are two different fast-food burger joints nearby, the most important distinction being that Lotteria's fries taste just like McDonald's', and Mos Burger's fries are like Wendy's'. Today we had "sumo soup," which does not contain actual sumo but rather is, in larger portions, the preferred food of sumo for weight gain. I had this soup when I went to Tokyo with the APIS (Korean school) 8th grade, and loved it, and Justin feels the same way, but we figure we'd better restrain ourselves lest we inadvertently end up fit for nothing but sumo.

Which shouldn't be a problem with all the BIKING we've been doing! I haven't been on a bike since I lived in New Haven five years ago and, although my legs aren't thrilled with the change, I'm really enjoying it. On a bike, our apartment is less than five minutes from the school, with a lovely ride over the river footbridge (pictured in the previous post). We have seen multiple cranes on the river (birds, not construction equipment), old dudes fishing, and tonight, a marvelous sunset. We haven't gotten to the beach yet but it's next on our list. Not twenty minutes by bicycle! Good thing I bought a suit before we left the UK!

In other words, Justin and I are just delighted with everything so far. We have traveled enough to know that we're in the honeymoon phase of culture shock (the others, if you're interested, are rejection, regression, acceptance, and the ever-amusing reverse culture shock), but we are optimistic that Fukuoka is going to be a great place to live.

Evening in Fukuoka

noreply@blogger.com (Justin) — Wed, 04 Aug 2010 11:54:00 +0000

Just a teaser: a few pics from the new cell phone. The top photo is of the little river in our neighborhood, between the apartment and the school. The bottom is the view from our front door.

Safely in Fukuoka!

noreply@blogger.com (Justin) — Wed, 04 Aug 2010 00:09:00 +0000

Nana and I arrived safely and on time Monday morning, and everything's been going smoothly since then. Even the weather is cooperating--blisteringly hot, of course, but so far not much rain!

Expect a longer post sometime later this week, once we have internet set up at the apartment.

Farewell, Edinburgh--and, Keeping the Educated Burgher in Japan

noreply@blogger.com (Justin) — Thu, 29 Jul 2010 14:03:00 +0000

Well, the time has come: Nana and I are frantically packing up our flat and saying our goodbyes. We don't actually fly out until Sunday morning, but between now and then we have to move out, shop, pack, and squeeze in every possible minute with the friends we've made this year.

We do have a few more Scotland stories to post, however, which we hope to put up during the first few weeks of our time in Japan.

We've also decided to keep the Educated Burgher indefinitely, turning it into a more general blog that will follow us wherever we go. This will also allow us to mix posts about prior experiences in with the new. Eventually, we hope to import our Korea blog, School of ROK, so you can follow all our adventures right here at the Educated Burgher.

We figure, hey, we're both educated, we're both educators, and we're both Burghers (ie, Pittsburghers).

So! So long for now--and the next time you hear from us, we'll be in Japan!

The Shornkeys: Noss and Bressay on the Dunter III

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 25 Jul 2010 08:44:00 +0000

(Note: "Shorkney" is not a real word. We're just using it to write about our recent trip to Aberdeen, Orkney, and Shetland.)

We're coming to the end of our Shorkney posts, which is probably good, since we're also coming to the end of our time here in Scotland (more on that later).

But we've saved one of the best for one of the last: a day trip on the Dunter III to the Noss National Nature Reserve in Shetland.

We hadn't originally planned to take the Dunter III "seabirds-and-seals" cruise, but all our other attempts to get out on the water (in sea kayaks, on a big sailboat, etc) were scrapped by rough seas. But on our last day in Shetland we had calm seas and two empty spots on a last-minute wildlife cruise.

And I am so glad all those other plans fell through! The Noup, which is the local name for the largest of the seabird cliffs on Noss, is truly a world-class natural wonder. As we were pulling out of Lerwick Harbor, our guide and skipper kept lamenting all the tourists on the pier who had "come to Niagara and missed the falls." I have to admit, at first I dismissed this as the hyperbole of a fanatic naturalist--but he was right, the Noup really does belong in the same category as Niagara Falls.

Of course, the bubbling (even childlike) enthusiasm of the Dunter III's crew--much touted in every review I've read of their service--only added to the sense of wonder. Nana and I peppered them with questions throughout the trip, and there wasn't an answer they didn't seem delighted to share.

Seriously, if you only do one thing in Shetland, do this.

Now, to the tour . . .

We started out by going north out of Lerwick, passing a seafood processing plant where the old seals like to hang out (for the free food).

From there, we flitted back and forth between some of the smaller islands in the harbor area. Some of these islands, unlike the larger islands, were sheep-free, with overgrown thickets of wildflowers and grasses providing a perfect habitat for wildlife.

At the little island above, we even caught a brief glimpse of an otter, trying to keep his catch away from a black-backed gull. Otters are famously shy, and according to my dissertation adviser (who has advised me on so much more than my dissertation!), in Scotland seeing one is kind of a big deal. Unfortunately, I could only spy his little head for maybe a second before he got away, but Nana got a much better look. Alas, I couldn't manage a photograph.

From there we circled the rest of the way around Bressay and passed through the narrow strait between Bressay and Noss. This strait, called Noss Sound, is a major breeding and feeding ground for sand eels, which are an important source of food for many of the seabird species around Shetland. Here we were lucky enough to see a puffin in flight. They're much smaller than you'd expect--not much bigger than the span of your hand. They love sand eels, so they make their nests in the hills above the strait.

Apart from its wildlife, Noss Sound is also just a beautiful spot. The ruins of an old WWII signal station crown the hill to the west, but otherwise all is green, blue, and gold. Noss itself has been uninhabited since 1939; it's now all pasture and nature reserve.

Noss Sound is also where the "ferry" crosses from Bressay to Noss. You can see the ferry here:

It's the little inflatable outboard tucked away in those rocks.

From Noss Sound we continued around the southern side of Noss. We passed a few small seabird colonies as we rounded the southeastern tip of the island--black guillemots mostly, whose markings make them look kind of like little penguins, though of course these guys can fly!

The coasts of Noss and Bressay are also shot through with sea caves like these.

But the Noup itself was clearly the highlight. After a look at what I thought were some pretty impressive seabird colonies near the southeastern tip of Noss, we passed a small headland and the Noup came into view.

Words fail me here. The cliff is enormous, bleached white by droppings, completely covered with black guillemots and northern gannets.

(Gannets are beautiful birds: white with black wingtips and pale gold around the head and neck.)

(Wikipedia image--I didn't manage to get a good shot.)

Overhead, the gannets circled in numbers so great that the sky was literally darkened by them. They were flying off to find nesting material--we even saw a pair of them fighting over a particularly desirable scrap of netting.

We spent a good long time at the Noup, just watching. (Our guides were kind enough to remind us that, despite the jaw-dropping power of the place, it was probably best for us to keep our mouths closed. Luckily, no one was hit!)

It's hard for me to describe just what made the Noup so awesome. I think it was the complexity and the drama of the place, tucked away only forty minutes out of Lerwick Harbor, a hidden but not-so-secret metropolis where thousands upon thousands of creatures lived out lives so different (and disconnected) from ours. And there are places like this--though not many quite so grand--all around the North Atlantic. It makes the world seem so vast and miraculous.

After we left the Noup, a great skua (a "bonxie" to Shetlanders) chased us in the hopes of nabbing a biscuit. (It would not be disappointed.)

Then we passed under an arch called the Giant's Legs . . .

. . . and moored in a sea cave, where the crew fired up their submersible to give us a look at life under the sea.

It's much more colorful than you'd expect under there--coral, sea anemones, crazy varieties of starfish. You think of the North Sea as a cold, desolate place, but in sheltered areas like this sea cave, life abounds.

We were delayed a bit leaving the sea cave (basically, we lost track of time), but still made it back in plenty of time for our ferry to Aberdeen. I say this because a few potential passengers ditched just before we left port because they were afraid they'd miss their boat back to the Scottish mainland. The crew of the Dunter III guaranteed our connection, so to speak, and even with our delay we got ourselves to the ferry terminal with about an hour to spare.

So the Noup, and the Dunter III? Both musts, both absolutely worth it, both the highlights of our Shetland trip for me!

The Shorkneys: Singing to Seals in Orkney and Shetland

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 18:54:00 +0000

(Note: "Shorkney" is not a real word. We're just using it to write about our recent trip to Aberdeen, Orkney, and Shetland.)

We're going a bit nuts over here at the Educated Burgher, what with all the dissertating and moving to Japan (so soon!). . . which is a bad thing, when you're as nuts as the two of us are to begin with.

Case in point:

Nothing like putting your toes in the North Sea, folks!

But that's not all--we spent a shamefully large portion of our trip singing to seals.

You see, Orkney and Shetland have a ton of the critters, and they're super curious little guys. Any time you're walking along the water (which is pretty much all the time in Orkney and Shetland), you're likely to see at least one of their little heads popping up, watching the strange world of the shore pass them by. They seem especially curious about dogs, probably because they look so much like dogs themselves.

(In fact, the German word for seal is "seehund," or "sea dog." You can tell why from this Wikipedia photo of a harbor seal, one of two species found in the Shorkneys.)

Anyway, the seals are apparently attracted to human voices, and especially human singing. So, naturally, when confronted with a lone seal in the Kirkwall harbor late at night (yes, late at night), Nana's first instinct was to belt out an a capella rendition of "Kiss From a Rose." (The seal is the little black dot in the background.)

Unfortunately, the seal promptly swam away, and our impromptu cover of "Hey Seal" (to the tune of "Hey Jude") met with similar scorn.

We had some more luck in Shetland, where a little family of seals was hanging out in a broad bay we were walking by just south of Lerwick. I assume they were there to watch the dogs passing on the trail. (Again, seals = black dots.)

Then again, it could just mean that seals like Aretha Franklin ("Chain of Seals") more than Seal or the Beatles. But given the very unscientific nature of our study, I would hesitate to draw any firm conclusions.

Bonus: What's the difference between a seal and a sea lion? Basically, true seals spend more time in the water, have no external ears, and short flippers which make them pretty much useless on land.

In contrast, sea lions (and the closely related, but misleadingly named fur seals) have small ear flaps and longer flippers. Sea lions can actually move pretty well on land, with a posture similar to that of a very large and very clumsy dachshund. This combination of cuteness and dexterity probably explains why sea lions the ones you find doing shows at Sea World.

Seals, on the other hand, are pretty much limited to flopping around on their fat stomachs. Hilarious, but not not much acting range. Kind of like Jack Black.

Library Cat

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sun, 18 Jul 2010 18:53:00 +0000

Library Cat is a black cat, perhaps a stray, who lives near the Newington Public Library. When the weather is nice, the staff props the doors open for ventilation, and Library Cat wanders into the library looking for skritches. I still don't know if Library Cat is a boy or girl, but he/she and I hit it off the other week when I would scratch, and Library Cat would blissfully sink his or her claws into the carpet and pull himself/herself out of scratching range, and then glare at me until I got up and moved back into petting range, rinse and repeat.

I petted Library Cat today while working on my dissertation at the library, and Library Cat, being the sort of educated and erudite cat who likes to hang out in free public book-lending venues, decided to hop up on the table and take a look at my work, while (not coincidentally) getting closer to my hand, in case I should be overwhelmed with the urge to pet something:

Clearly Library Cat was unimpressed with my work, and felt that petting it would be a much better use of my time. In fact, when Library Cat felt I was wasting too much time on academic pursuits, he/she quickly made his/her feelings felt by sitting on my laptop:

When I am editing my final draft and find "#9999999999999999999999999999" somewhere in the paper, I'll know that was the contribution of Library Cat's butt.

(Sorry for the picture quality - I took them on my cell phone and the glass covering the lens is cracked).

Dateline: Somewhere south of York

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 16 Jul 2010 11:05:00 +0000

I came down to London yesterday by train to visit the Museum of London, which has in its large costume collection the original costumes worn by Fred Terry to play Sir Percy Blakeney in The Scarlet Pimpernel circa 1905. Yes, this is research for my dissertation, Yes, the humanities can reach mind-boggling levels of esoteric impracticality.

Anyway, I just found it amusing to write a blog post via wireless internet from a moving train. I am, as the title suggests, somewhere south of York, and I have at least three hours on the train to go (the UK is a lot smaller than the US, but as we learned on our trip to the Shorkneys, that north-south distance is pretty hefty - comparable to the US eastern seaboard.)

Chugging along!

The Shorkneys: Orkney and Shetland in the Renaissance

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Thu, 15 Jul 2010 17:30:00 +0000

(Note: "Shorkney" is not a real word. We're just using it to write about our recent trip to Aberdeen, Orkney, and Shetland.)

As I mentioned in our previous post, Shetland and Orkney both used to belong to the Norse. But when the King of Denmark (who was also the King of Norway) fell into debt, he was forced to forfeit the islands to Scotland in 1468 in lieu of a dowry for his daughter Margaret, who was sent over to marry King James III of Scotland. A year later, Christian I pawned Shetland to the Scots, too.

Under the Scots, the islands enjoyed a kind of golden age. They benefited from trade connections with Germany, the Netherlands, and Denmark, and the Scottish crown pretty much left them alone.

This wasn't always a good thing, however. Around 1600, Patrick Stewart, the 2nd Earl of Orkney, after brutalizing the local peasantry and spending himself into debt, actually went to war with the Sheriff of Shetland to back up his claim to ownership of the islands.

(What the 2nd Earl of Orkney might have looked like.)

For a while, things went pretty well for Patrick, but the escapade eventually landed him in prison in Edinburgh--and his son was hanged by the Sheriff of Shetland and a band of local malcontents.

So Patrick Stewart: Petty tyrant? Mad genius? The greatest Star Trek captain of all time? You be the judge.

The Earl's Palace, Kirkwall (Orkney)

Most of what we know about Patrick Stewart comes from unreliable sources, and recent scholarship suggests he wasn't the huge jerk everyone makes him out to be.

But whatever the size of Patrick's jerkitude, we do have him to thank for two of Scotland's most impressive Renaissance residences. The older of the two is Patrick's fortified palace in Kirkwall, Orkney.

The palace boasted both form and function: it included an enormous great hall, where the Earl and co. presumably got their respective grooves on . . .

(Historical reenactment.)

. . . and the place was built to withstand an attack from his next-door neighbor, the Bishop of Orkney.

Yes, the upstart Patrick set up shop right next door to the King's most powerful agent in the Northern Isles. You know the drill: keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Patrick clearly bested the bishop as far as style was concerned: the Bishop's Palace is a tall, narrow, grim sort of a place, decidedly Medieval next to the Renaissance splendor of Patrick's new pad.

But apparently the bishop had Patrick beat in terms of function: the Earl's Palace was the site of Patrick's last stand, and had to be surrendered when opposing forces fired a cannon into one of those beautiful windows.

During the confusion, Nana may or may not have let her hair down in a failed effort to help Patrick escape.

Scalloway Castle, Shetland

Patrick's other house--in Scalloway, the ancient capital of Shetland--is another thing altogether. Where the Earl's Palace is an inviting house set in a small park in the middle of town, Scalloway Castle is a formidable tower house perched on a windswept spit of land. (Windswept even by Shetland standards!)

To access the castle, you have to sign out a key from a local hotel.

Nothing quite like letting yourself into a castle!

The inside couldn't be more different from the palace at Kirkwall: Scalloway Castle is pretty dim and grim. The living quarters would have been packed into the space below, with several levels of wooden floors and a roof that has been long since gone.

In fact, Patrick Stewart's two residences are a good summary of the differences between the two regions themselves: Orkney is by far the milder and the prettier of the two, whereas Shetland is far grimmer--though that has a way of being beautiful, too!

Poll: Keep "Educated Burgher" In Japan?

noreply@blogger.com (Justin) — Wed, 14 Jul 2010 05:55:00 +0000

As most of you probably know, Nana and I are moving to Japan in a little less than three weeks (!), where we'll be teaching at Fukuoka International School.

We're going to keep blogging from Japan, but we haven't decided if we would rather launch a new Japan-specific blog, launch a new general blog (which we would then keep wherever we moved), or just keep on blogging here. I should also mention that we're having a heck of a time coming up with a blog name for Japan or Fukuoka that isn't either already taken or, um, rude.

So what do you think? We want your votes! (In the comments or by e-mail.)

1) Launch a new Japan-specific blog, like our old School of ROK.

2) Launch a non-Japan-specific blog and keep it wherever we go after that.

3) Keep the Educated Burgher and turn it into a more general blog.

From the BBC: World's Strongest Beer is Scottish (Again)

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Sat, 10 Jul 2010 17:00:00 +0000

The BBC reports that Brew Dog, one of Scotland's cutting-edge microbreweries, has just re-staked their claim to the world's strongest beer with "Sink the Bismarck," at 41% alcohol by volume. Brew Dog's earlier entry in the strongest-beer arms race, "Tactical Nuclear Penguin" (32%), was bested by German brewer Schorsbrau's "Schorsbock" (40%).

In addition to strange names, Brew Dog also produces some really good beer. Their flagship, "Trashy Blonde," is a fine pilsner, and "Punk" is a fine IPA. But as Nana said, once you get too far into the double digits for alcohol content, are you really still talking about beer?

Desirable Edinburgh

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 09 Jul 2010 21:41:00 +0000

In a poll, Edinburgh was voted the UK's "Most Desirable City" to live in. We have "atmosphere," "culture," "cuisine," and "shopping:"

The report said: "Not only does Edinburgh have lots to offer but the city is safe to visit, easy to get around and the local people are helpful and friendly.
"Aside from its entertainment and leisure offerings, it is also considered a city worth investing in."

See the full story here on the BBC:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/scotland/edinburgh_and_east/8199815.stm

The Shorkneys: Orkney and Shetland in the Viking Age, and St. Magnus

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Fri, 09 Jul 2010 08:42:00 +0000

(Note: "Shorkney" is not a real word. We're just using it to write about our recent trip to Aberdeen, Orkney, and Shetland.)

The Viking Age

After about 800 AD, the Vikings began to settle in Orkney and Shetland, though it's unclear whether they conquered the Picts who were already there or simply drove them back to the Scottish mainland.

Shetland and Orkney--but especially Orkney--were extremely important during the Viking Age. First, they lay at the geographical center of Viking maritime culture, situated at the crossroads of the North Sea, the Norwegian Sea, and the Atlantic Ocean.

Second, Orkney included some of the most fertile land in the region, and so developed into one of the richest of the Norse provinces. In fact, as I mentioned in our post on Maes Howe, Orkney is home to the largest collection of Norse runes outside Scandinavia, and the Orkneyinga saga is one of the most important surviving pieces of Viking literature. The bits of these documents I've read are really quite funny: Maes Howe, for instance, is covered with silly boasts about the carvers being the best carvers of runes in the world, and at least one note that seems to compare another Viking's woman to a rabid dog.

Norse culture remains strong in Orkney and Shetland to this day. Though debt forced the king of Norway to give Orkney to the Scottish in 1468, and the Scottish came to dominate Shetland culturally and economically at about the same time, many people in the Northern Isles consider themselves to be about as much Scandinavian as Scottish. There is definitely something Scandinavian about the Shetland dialect, and the modern flags of Orkney (top) and Shetland (bottom) were specifically designed to reflect this Norse heritage.

Compare this to the Norwegian Flag, below, which features the same off-center cross and a similar color scheme.

St. Magnus Cathedral

St. Magnus Cathedral, in Kirkwall, Orkney, is the greatest surviving monument to the Viking Age in the Northern Isles.

The cathedral is dedicated to St. Magnus, a local Viking ruler who was martyred in the 12th century for refusing to participate in a bloody raid in Wales. The oldest parts of the cathedral were built shortly thereafter, in the Romanesque style. This style is characterized by round arches, like upside-down U's, and darker interiors than the later Gothic style (think York Minster or Notre Dame).

The Romanesque style is the same used in Durham Cathedral in England, as well as on Lindisfarne.

You can see the round arches on either side of the photo below.

You'll notice that the window at the back, however, is a pointed or "vaulted" arch, in the later Gothic style. The ceiling is also vaulted, as are all the windows in the towers. This is because construction on the cathedral continued until the early 1900s. In fact, there's a sign on the building across the street with a diagram of the exterior of the cathedral showing when each section was built:

As it turns out, some of the most "Gothic" features are actually Victorian, part of the Gothic Revival at the end of the 19th century that gave us college campuses like Yale's.

St. Magnus also has some typically Norse features, such as a longboat on the altar . . .

. . . and interlocking arches, which some have argued are an intermediate stage between rounded arches and vaulted arches.

Bonus: There's a Norwegian consulate in Orkney! It must be one of the smallest towns in the world to host a foreign consulate.

The Shorkneys Food Update: Bannock Badges???

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Tue, 06 Jul 2010 21:24:00 +0000

Thanks to my mom for this amazing heads up: apparently the Canadian Brownies used to offer a Girl Scout (Girl Guides, in Canada) badge in Bannock Making! Further evidence of the strong historical Canadian-Scottish connection?

Check out the badge! (Note: not my image, stolen from the web site cited below)

It is a cryptic image of a pan over a fire. This explains my mom's story, in which she could never get anybody to tell her what a bannock was (in those pre-internet times!), making it basically impossible to figure out how to earn the badge. Which is a shame, because according to this website, the badge stopped being offered 1995, which means I totally could have earned it. Now I know, but alas, too late!

Side note: Just visited the Girl Guides of Canada web site for my first stop to look for the badge. When did Brownie badges get so freaking hideous? Give me the classic gold-on-brown over those Nickelodeon nightmares any day!

The Shorkneys: Delicious, Delicious Shorkneys

noreply@blogger.com (Unknown) — Mon, 05 Jul 2010 18:30:00 +0000

(Note: "Shorkney" is not a real word. We're just using it to write about our recent trip to Aberdeen, Orkney, and Shetland.)

The Orkney and Shetland Islands, I recall reading in the museums, cannot sustain themselves food-wise. Food has to be brought in on the same ferries that we took. While there, we went out of our way to try to get things that were local - not just for the hippy-dippy green food-mile value, but also for the fact that fresh things taste better, and also, heck, we went all the way to Orkney and Shetland. Let's not mess around eating French cheese.

Fortunately for your sake, we didn't photograph everything (between me and Justin, food often doesn't survive long enough to be photographed). But here are some culinary highlights.

First breakfast in Orkney: hotel B&B. I had amazing smoked salmon scrambled eggs (yes, the salmon was mixed into the eggs) and Justin had haddock covered in cheese and a poached egg:

Verdict. WHOA NELLY GOOD.

Due to its location on the North Sea and its jagged coastline, Scotland is prime fishing territory. Fish isn't, however, widely eaten here in Edinburgh. I've heard various reasons for it, the most common being that fish has traditionally been so lucrative to tin and sell south that the Scots never kept much back for themselves, but this might not be correct. For whatever reason, despite its prime location, Edinburgh is not a fishy part of Scotland. The Shorkneys, however, are. And God bless 'em for it.

Shetland is even more fish-eating than Orkney because of its lower percentage of arable land. Our Orkney guide articulated the difference as "Orcadians are farmers with fishing boats. Shetlanders are fishermen with farms."

Later in Kirkwall, Orkney: Helgi's

You will notice that Justin couldn't get me to stop eating long enough to take the shot.

Helgi's is delicious and reasonably priced, which our guide (who recommended it) said made it a welcome addition to Kirkwall's waterfront. If you go to the islands, I hear sometimes it can be hard to find a place to eat if you don't make a reservation ("booking" in UK-speak). So you may want to either call or drop into the restaurant earlier in the day or the day before to make sure you get seated.

We were kind of hankering for something green, so on the left, you have a salad with Orkney cheese and candied pear. Top is smoked haddock with beets and horseradish, and lower right is frighteningly delicious mackerel pate. We ordered all of these off the appetizer menu to allow us to try more stuff.

When we weren't quite full, we went for dessert:

Rhubarb and cream. Rhubarb is a hardy little plant that grows extremely well in Orkney, and cream is another famous Orcadian product (if it comes from a cow, Orkney's famous for it). I found the rhubarb completely delicious but thought the ratio was off - the cream got a bit rich because there wasn't enough rhubarb to balance it. On the whole, I would have liked this better on a pie crust so it would have a little more substance.

We had had some rhubarb and ginger jam at lunch earlier that day, which was delicious when spread on Orkney oatcakes (quite possibly my mother-in-law's favorite food in the world). I don't have any pictures; I'm just doing this as an excuse to say "rhubarb" some more. Rhubarb rhubarb rhubarb.

On to Shetland! (Rhubarb).

My friend Sarah, from Lerwick, suggested we get what she considers the world's best fish and chips at the Fort Cafe. Far be it from us to pass up what turned out to be the world's most fried dinner:

Fried haddock, french fries, and onion rings. Fresh vegetables are a bit slim in Shetland. If we lived in Shetland, I'm guessing we'd be the opposite of slim.

We had a fabulous dinner at our hotel but it was kind of a nice place so we didn't want to whip out the camera. We ordered from the appetizer menu again to get more variety. I think it ultimately included a bowl of smoked haddock/paprika chowder, pan fried scallops, and smoked salmon, with a cheese plate for dessert. The cheese was fabulous. The grapes looked a bit limp, but who can blame them? That's certainly how I felt after the ferry ride, and I only came from Kirkwall. Heaven knows where the grapes started out.

We timed our visit to Shetland to coincide with the Flavour of Shetland festival on the Lerwick Waterfront. This gave us the chance to try some local delicacies at the various booths. Here, Justin is eating a seafood gumbo:

Really good. This was actually the first time I'd seen scallops with the bright orange part attached (see here for example). I assumed it was a foot, but I just looked it up for this blog post and discovered that it's actually roe, or eggs. It was lovely. Not quite as rich or as textured as lobster roe - it actually tasted a bit like the small sweet part of a crab claw. Highly recommended!

Also from the Flavours of Shetland pier: bannocks!

(That's the buttery bread things served here with stew which, if I remember correctly, was mutton and potato).

Bannocks are a type of biscuit - "biscuit" in the American sense, not the British sense of "cookie." They are quite delicious, having a doughy, baking soda flavor. You can find some recipes here on the Shetlopedia (of COURSE Shetland has its own pedia.) I think the best are beremeal. No, I don't know what beremeal is. I just know it comes out more brown, and richer and sweeter. Here I am watching the Shetland Cooking demonstration lady make bannocks:

The butter, from a local Shetland dairy, was incredibly sweet, creamy, and smooth. And guess what kind of jam is in that bowl! Yes, RHUBARB. RHUBARB RHUBARB RHUBARB.

Last but not least, our lunch on our final day in Shetland: lamb burgers (lamburgers?). Shetland and Orkney are both known for their lamb, as sheep do well on the windy hills. A fine end to our culinary tourism!