Scotland's Mystical Capital, Edinburgh: A Travelogue

For two days this month, I spent time in awe of the historic city of Edinburgh, where even modern buildings share aesthetic with older ones. We drove into the city by car from Leeds, which entailed a four hours journey to the north. A cool breeze, and clouds, accompanied the expansive green before us. Indeed, on the way to Edinburgh, we noticed thick pastures of grass, even moreso than what we've seen in Portland. There were also cobblestone roads, and seagull hordes -- a less exciting but perhaps inevitable part of our trip. This would certainly be a memorable experience.

Tourists, especially my mom, enjoy visiting historical sites. This is natural given how much more ancient Edinburgh is compared to Portland. A minor problem arose: by the time we were settled into our place of stay, a nice apartment, it was already 3:30. Sites would close soon.

In our haste, we traveled to the Scottish Parliament, a neatly laid out building finished in 2004. Unlike much of Edinburgh, it sported a very modern aesthetic. Fortunately for us, there was disability parking across the street from us. (We were fortunate to be able to use our disability parking placard from the US.)

To get there, we had taken a back road along Easter Road, bypassing the traffic heading through Edinburgh's famous Royal Mile. For those who do not know, the Royal Mile is essentially a giant hill running along the heart of the city, with the Palace of Holyrood and the Scottish Parliament by the bottom ("the foot") and the Edinburgh castle by the top ("the head"). We started at the bottom, in other words.

The Scottish Parliament, which has free entry, seemed impeccable open to the public. Unlike the US Congress, which even in better years did not accept visitors without express permission, we simply had to pass through a simple security checkpoint and were allowed to wander around inside. (Because the Parliament was in recess, we could not witness the debate chamber.) The interior managed to be simple yet modern and spacious, leaving much room for me and my wheelchair. The inside was mostly taken up by a set of displays highlighting excellent visual journalism. Most notably, an image from this year of a black woman standing down US cops equipped with shields and dogs. These displays contributed to a feeling of accountability: this legislative body observed the world around it, rather than simply dictating rules seemingly on whims (see: US Congress, most of the time).

This did not quite scratch the historical itch, however. So now it was time to visit the nearby Palace (which was just across the street)!

...But it was now past 4:30 pm, and they no longer sold tickets. Such an exciting visit would have to wait until the next day.

So we settled on something more Portland-esque: the Edinburgh Cocktail Festival. We ended up there by traveling up the Royal Mile, which is difficult on wheelchair (as one might imagine). Lured by the promise of live music, we sat down by the makeshift stage and waited. Unfortunately, our timing coincided with a break. We decided to rest there before heading to dinner. A familiar drumbeat began playing out of the speakers -- it sounded like Radiohead's song "High and Dry." But instead it was the song I always mix up with "High and Dry." When Ira Kaplan's vocals came on, I realized that the piece was "Autumn Sweater" by Yo La Tengo, a song that warmly reminds me of music I liked in high school.  (Still a piece I wholeheartedly love.) Imagine coming all the way to Scotland to hear an American song played in public!

After twenty minutes or so, we headed (down the Royal Mile) to Kilderkin, a pub we heard was quiet good. It was time to finally eat some fish and chips in the UK! ...Or so I thought...but it seemed they weren't serving it at that time. What a disappointment!

On our way down, some tourists devouring tasty-looking fish and chips had told us about Bene's, a small food place across the street. So, with myself in a wheelchair, we trekked upwards, fighting gravity heartily, to head to Bene's. For 7.2 pounds for fish and chips (which me and my parents ate) and 5 pounds for doner kebab (which my sister ate), it seemed reasonably priced. The plan was to eat on the University of Edinburgh's campus, but we got lost. Instead, we settled by the fountain outside the Scottish Parliament. No friend of grease, I found the fried fish quite pleasant. Much better than fish and chips I had eaten in the US. Finally, after several days in the UK, fish and chips were in my stomach!

On our second day, we saw the Palace of Holyrood and Edinburgh Castle, which are at the bottom and top respectively of the Royal Mile. In the morning, my mom and I visited the Palace, whereas all four of us (my mom, my dad, my sister, and I) went to the Castle in the afternoon.

Thanks to my wheelchair, I earned a 5 pound discount, and my mom got in free as my assistant (wheelchair pusher). Unfortunately for my mom, photos were not allowed anywhere inside the Palace. This was something of a relief to me, as my inability to pose properly for photos is a minor source of anxiety. After a few exhibits, we were confronted with a grand spiral staircase, which held us back on the first floor.

Fortunately, the wardens took us through side paths to arrive at the elevator, allowing us to skip the stairs. Surprisingly, the elevator fit in quite well with the historic designs of the palace, despite appearing quite recent. One major highlight was the Great Gallery, covered by a royal red rug, which featured 96 portraits of Scottish royalty. Clearly this land had much more history than I had realized. As we made our way through, we listened to our audiobooks, gaining mastery over this history. (However, this mastery has already been undone. )

My mom saw the room of Mary, Queen of Scots -- whereas I could not because of a spiral staircase leading up, and no elevator. I witnessed the room through a video display on a computer in the Great Gallery; it was apparently best known for its collection of weapons. Except for one rather important detail. Supposedly, it was the room where Mary's secretary was executed by the King (her husband) on account of jealousy. (By this point, I have probably shared this anecdote a hundred times.)

Many of the rooms featured beautiful tapestries, some downright Rococo, but I cannot show them to you due to a lack of photos. The Palace was beautifully impressive, beyond my capacity to describe in this travelogue. Very likely, my highlight from the trip. We also got a chance to witness the gardens.

Now we met up with my dad and sister, who were again in the disability parking by the Parliament. We found Cajun chicken sandwiches on the Royal Mile at a place fittingly called Let Me Eat. That certainly described my current sentiment, as my sister pointed out. Then we continued our way along the Royal Mile towards the castle. This drove home the intricacy of Scottish history even further.

The roads became congested with pedestrians, forcing us to move exceedingly slowly. (We were allowed to drive on account of my mobility challenges.) We made our way to the top, and saw the castle entrance. However, it quickly became apparent that the entire complex was its own hill, even steeper than the Royal Mile. And....we were given no wheelchair discount this time. A taxi ferried us to the top (free of charge beyond the ticket), and we got out and took many pictures. (Photos were allowed here.) Apart from cool historical buildings, the Castle had cannons and a beautiful view of Edinburgh. Where the Palace is compact, the Castle is quite spread out, but both are quite charming.

There was a last item on the bucket list for that today -- a site in Edinburgh famous among certain tourists. In particular, those who are Harry Potter fans. The whole city, especially the Castle and the Palace of Holyrood, are said to have inspired the series. An ancient college near the Castle is said to have in particular provided a foundation for the design of Hogwarts -- this a Palace warden had told me,  But, there was a more concrete connection. This place on our bucket list was a place where JK Rowling had spent time writing -- it is called the Elephant House, clad with a maroon banner above the doorway. For the sake of memory, I ordered a hot chocolate to go, my very own disposable memento. The creamy chocolate drink certainly left me contented.

By this time in the day, most touristy things had closed. We had missed our chance to see the National Museum of Scotland, much to my mom's chagrin. My sister suggested a night ferry. Instead, we headed back to the apartment with the realization that we had just the following morning for sightseeing. However, we did not leave the apartment at all during the evening.

It was 9 AM the next morning. Typically, it could not be taken for granted that all of us would be up, let alone ready to leave. But today was different -- we bucked the fatalism of time by heading to the National Museum of Scotland that we had passed up. (This museum is actually located on a road branching off the Royal Mile, freeing us from worrying about hills.) It was free, so there was no other argument against going. There were some neat science exhibits, creating the backdrop for exquisite photos (taken by my expert photographer of a sister). Then we walked around outside and witnessed more street life of Edinburgh, complete with a dash of drizzle. This may come as a surprise given one's expectations about Scotland, but it was actually sunny during our first two days, and quite bright. Most notably, we were given a pamphlet for a Shakespeare play that may not actually contain any Shakespeare.

After some exploration along the road, we returned to the car, feeling simultaneously ready to head back to Leeds and not ready to leave. For one, my mom hadn't even seen the Edinburgh Museum she had wanted to see. But that was the time allocated for the trip. During previous plans, I had considered visiting Glasglow -- later on, I learned that it is better for shopping, not history. Perhaps my real reason is the fact that the band Franz Ferdinand hails from that city. Alas, a return to Scotland may have to happen sometime in the future, as that was quite fun,

Miniature travelogue time!

For 1.4 pounds, I purchased chocolate milk from UK grocery store M&S for the first time in 6 years. My mind urged it was essential. Not simply any chocolate milk, but this specific kind. One can tell my priorities were straight.

In fact, it has been one of my goals since arriving in London. To get this M&S "Chocolate Flavoured Milk". 

A fool might think all chocolate milk is identical, mass produced with no variation. This proves them wrong. But this ecstatic blend brings milk and chocolate together in complete harmony and symmetry. Elysian creaminess meets a soft chocolate approach that remains delicious with every gulp. And I refuse to allow the rug a mere drop. 

When I head home, I will surely miss this excellent chocolate milk. It is salvation.

Flower Declaration of Love: Under the Dog

Under the Dog follows Hana, who promptly informs us that her family is awkward. Walking down the stairs and towards the door. Off to an entrance exam where something greater lies ahead. Her dad wishes her luck, but this is a lie. Even with these lies, Hana wishes fervently to help her family.  Against this apparent contradiction , the story unfolds. 

It is a baffling tale where soldiers invade a high school 

with little warning. And Hana is revealed to be a not so normal person. Rather a person sent to protect a boy named Nanase. The story appears to stumble numerous times, especially when introducing characters who scarcely appear again. 

The end product is stilted but still there are hints of the themes it promises. It is a firm belief on this site that the phrase "nothing remotely good" is typically a lie. So let me offer how Under the Dog could be made compelling. And not simply things like reducing the scope and rewriting the dialogue.

Rather than a standard glimpse into Hana the "ordinary" person, begin up front with her eyes turning green. They hint at her true identity as an assassin and her quest to protect her family. If she is fleshed out in such a way, she becomes a plausible character. By pouring more emphasis, the audience would right away understand her mission. In this way, the opening scene of Gunslinger Girl, which showcases Henrietta as a killer, would be an apt template to follow. We would see immediately that Hana can serve as protector. 

In her effort to protect Nanase, which does provide some sorely needed characterization, we see Hana again take on this guardian role. In a way, his struggle is hers as a result. So I wish the work had given more thought as to why Nanase matters so keenly, and in turn why her mission matters. To this end, the opening should demonstrate that, using glitch imagery that aligns with the green eyes, Nanase's father is the monster plaguing that world. To give us hope that he could persevere. That Hana could persevere. 

Allowing both to die at the end flies in the face of the hope described do gingerly but earnestly described by Hana. By tearing emphasis away from the minute battles, the work would have been much more powerful if it had focused on self discovery through fighting the monster and learning that it is Nanase's father. And had lived in the process. For me, that would lead to a more satisfying and connected ending. 

Ultimately, Under the Dog desperately needed to step back. Reduce the scope, and aim for psychological battles and defeats, less on actual blood and violence. Restructure the story, and make it move faster during worldbuilcing moments. And most importantly,  convince the viewer of the importance of Hana and Nanase by digging much more deeply into their motivations and skills. By giving us reason to care deeply for Hana and Nanase, this work could drive home its potentially powerful theme of hope in the face of the worst humanity can offer. 

A Stifled Voice: Special education and the film A Silent Voice

Notebooks thrown in the pond,

Hearing aids discarded,

Being left alone, 

Called disgusting,

Criticized for taking up special attention.

Kyoto Animation's A Silent Voice, a gorgeous and heartfelt work, follows a deaf girl named Nishimiya, beginning with her transfer into an elementary school. In her introduction, she explains with a notebook cast above her head that she cannot hear. 

She is bullied extensively by her peers, who are convinced that she gets special treatment. They complain that the lessons are disrupted. And mock her speech. To watch her suffer is to feel disgust that it is tacitly allowed. One day the principal announces that Nishimiya has had several pairs of hearing aids damaged and asks for the bully to step forward. This highlights her status as an unwanted member of the classroom.

I understand the feeling of having special needs while in a "normal" classroom. While the unfortunate things that happen to her are unfamiliar to me, I can throughly understand that feeling of isolation. 

In the US, special classrooms exist to help students with special needs. Wouldn't Nishimiya benefit from that, one might reason. One incident begs this question. An instructor is brought in to teach Shuwa -- Japanese sign language -- but the class resists. They prefer the notebook. Their convenience over Nishimiya's well being. Utilitarianism at its finest. 

If Nishimiya was in a more individualized setting then her needs could be met without disrupting the class. 

The idea is nonsense, really. Citation: myself.

During high school I was on an Individualized Education Plan where I took a special education class along side the "normal" ones. A class called Social Cognition, which covered many basic conversational and organizational skills. For me, someone with a physical disability, it was an effort to sidestep my true needs. 

For some the class may be helpful, but it was not for most of the students from what I could tell. It had no bearing in anything. And for me I wanted things like extended time on tests. I wanted help with concerns from my physical disability not a special ed class focusing on social skills. It doesn't help that special education is seen as unnecessary for "good" students.

Because of that, I took myself off my IEP. 

Special ed is so very insular,I feel, often isolating students. There's a stigma attached to it in the US. That's why integration is important. That's why asking the children to learn Shuwa is important. That's why teaching about the experiences of wheelchair users is important. Students with disabilities deserve to fully participate in the classroom, condition permitting, and nontoxic  face stigma. Naturally that includes Nishimiya. 

Unfortunately Japan and US both seem to struggle with accommodating students with disabilities. Especially in the realm of stigma and stopping bullying. Yet the Japanese emphasis on the students who struggle seems beneficial in thus regard, given their efforts to ensure Nishimiya's success. 

There is hope, with increasing awareness both of specifically deafness and disability in general. Integration is worthwhile, especially with the emphasis on the wellbeing of all students in the classroom. Much preferable to the insular nature of the special education classroom for many students. 

May the trauma Nishimiya faces not happen in the future.