Lesson number one I learned while abroad: we rely on technology way too much in this country. It actually physically hurts me to admit that because I'm an MIS major. I love all things tech-y. In Scotland, people actually converse with one another. When they sit down for a meal, or even just coffee, they focus solely on their company. Phones don't add awkward lighting to already pale faces nor are they constant table decoration. When people take "wee walks" along the street, they don't haphazardly collide with one another because they are looking at where they are going as opposed to staring into a phone or iPod. Also, the term "wifi" might as well be Hebrew. Free wifi is even more of an absurdity. The first couple of days, my lack of technology was overwhelming. It felt like I had a phantom limb. My phone had been violently amputated from my body, and I physically ached to have it in my hands. I wanted nothing more than to pick up my cell phone and tweet photos of the sheep lining the road, update my status about the constant rain, or text a story about an interesting local. Slowly but surely, I got used to being phone-less (and most of the time, internet-less). Then, something miraculous happened. Almost as strange as a rabbit in an overcoat with a pocket watch, I got used to be in a quasi-tech-free environment. As I walked around this new city, I was able to absorb so much more simply because I was paying attention. There was nothing competing for my focus. My phone was vibrating with news feed updates, tweets, or texts. My iPod was contently sleeping at the bottom of my purse. My computer rendered useless by the lack of internet lay dormant on my desk. It made me wonder how much of my surroundings in Austin I've missed because I've been too involved with my tech toys.
Lesson number two I learned while abroad: a "wee" walk is about 3 miles while a "wee" hike is climbing a mountain. This lesson was learned the hard way, numerous times. No one in Scotland drives. The bus system is fantastic. The train system is great. The weather has a tendency to suck, but people still love to walk. And walk they do. Everywhere, no matter what the weather, no matter what the time of day. You. Walk. Everywhere. We got used to this concept fairly quickly that was until 30 of us were standing at the base of the supposed hill on which the Old Man of Storr resided. We were on a three day "Wild and Sexy Highlands Tour," so named because the tour company insists that attracts Americans to their tours. Anyway, Kyle, our guide, insisted it was a "wee hike" to the ancient, geological rock formations. When in Scotland, do what the Scots do. So we started climbing. He lied. That "hill" was a mountain- a steep, muddy mountain. After that three day trip was finally over, I'm pretty sure every one of us wanted nothing more than a shower and a bed.
Lesson number three I learned while abroad: dropping your camera off the side of a 4-story crumbling castle wall induces widespread panic and a sprinting tornado of flailing limbs. The Mock Turtle said, "What is the use of repeating all that stuff, if you don't explain it as you go on? It's by far the most confusing thing I ever heard!" While he makes a valid argument, he never suffered from jet lag. Then, I believe he would alter his statement ever so slightly. So the explanation behind lesson three for another time when exhaustion isn't seeping into my bones.
