Bagpipes, Friendships and those Summer Nights

Several years ago, I was working in mid-Wilshire at a job that I dreaded going to every morning. My only solace during the day was the thirty minutes when I would take my lunch to the park across the street and sit at a bench and people-watch. Afterwards, I would walk through the park for a few minutes before heading back to the office. On one such occasion, I came across familiar but unlikely sounds coming from the far end of the park. I walked towards the direction of the music, all the while thinking, there is no way I'm hearing what I'm hearing. But sure enough, tucked among the tress was a man playing bagpipes! (I'm pretty sure  he was wearing a kilt, but that could very well be my memory filling in the blanks.) I've always loved the sound of bagpipes (commonly referred to as "pipes" here), finding it simultaneously uplifting and slightly melancholy ---so it wasn't surprising that my first solo outing in Scotland was to the town's Pipe Band Championships.

These guys were ready for it to rain on their parade!

The forecast had called for rain and I was tempted to stay in cuddled up on the couch with a blanket and a book, but I knew it was time to get out and get a taste of the local culture. Not to mention, all that alone time was starting to make me antsy. So I bundled up and headed out to the park where the competition was taking place. People were already gathered under the covered stands and I could hear one of the bands on the field. It was more than just great music; I loved watching the synchronized movements, the different tartans and the enthusiasm of the spectators.

At some point there was a break in the performances and I found myself striking up a conversation with a woman and her mother;  before I knew it, they had taken this L.A. girl under their wing. They wanted to know my story. After all, it's not often someone moves from Los Angeles to Innerleithen. I assured them it was just a long stay, but they were intrigued nonetheless. We went for coffee afterwards and by the end of the day, a friendship was forged. The following week, I was having dinner at their home. Yay, my first friends here. I should have known my love for bagpipes wouldn't lead me astray.


... a week later, I went to a festival in neighboring Peebles with my new friends.  A week-long event, it was ending that evening in a sort of band-off between the Peebles Silver Band and a visiting pipe band from Oman. The main street was blocked off, crowds had gathered all around. We were bundled up in hats, scarves and jackets, fingers crossed that the rain would hold out, but no such luck was in store. Just as the bands began, it started pouring.  Within minutes, the sidewalks became a sea of umbrellas, everyone craning their necks to get

Scotland v. Oman -bring it on!

a good view of the musicians. Kids splashed around in puddles, kicking up water and squealing with joy. College kids hung in packs without any covering, letting raindrops fall into their plastic cups of beer, cheering in drunken celebration.

It was absolutely amazing. Rain came down hard but the band players didn't flinch. I kept waiting for someone to reach up and wipe the water off his face but it didn't happen. Determination and passion kept them going. The fans were not to be deterred either; they stayed until the very end. My friend was giving me the scoop on the various tunes -some old national songs that she's known since childhood, other more popular ones. It was all Greek (er, Scottish) to me. That is, until I found myself moving to a familiar beat. The song was probably half done before I even realized that I knew the tune. Excitedly I asked, Is that "Summer Nights" from Grease?! Yup, it was. It was totally random, but a fun way to end the evening.

My favorite part: At the end of the evening, the two bands joined as one.