on the fringe

i'm experiencing my third fringe festival this month, having moved to edinburgh in the middle of the 2010 festival. the population of the city is double what is normally is, with tourists in town. odd people in costumes walking around town, people passing out fliers ever few steps, street performers doing their thing. tourists get a taste of what edinburgh is not like 11 months of the year. some may go home with this image of the fringe as representing edinburgh. thankfully, for those of us who live here, edinburgh in august is a completely different beast from edinburgh during the rest of the year.

people in sci-fi suits, on stilts, passing out fliers to a show

i've decided to try and see a number of free shows this year as part of the free fringe - you watch the show, and when it's over, the performer stands by the exit with a bucket, or pale, and you donate what you feel is right. the free fringe is like the fringe to the fringe; the fringier fringe, if you will.

i feel like, in a number of ways, i'm on the fringe.

starting with where we live. we live on the fringe of the most touristy parts of town, just behind the palace, just a short way from the base of arthur's seat. this kind of fringe living is great. we are close enough to everything, but can retreat to our quiet street, where we don't hear the fringe tourists walking the streets, cars, or drunks at all hours of the night. the only loud noises we hear overnight, are seagulls arguing in the early hours of the morning (i should say, this isn't necessarily the nicest sound to hear at 5 am, but still).

i've been at my job for over a year, but still feel on the fringe somehow. part of it has to do with our office being in a different building from the rest of our colleagues in the undergraduate office. but even beyond that, i feel on the fringe. i've had more responsibility over the summer and leading into the new school year because i've been the only one in my office who was around from june to september. i've been asked to represent the office a few times, and have had to do something i haven't done since teaching - stand in front of a room and talk to people. you would think that this would make me feel more like i belong, but i still don't quite feel that way. there's a kind of insecurity i've felt with my job that bothers me, and i won't get into here, but i think as long as i feel that sense of insecurity, i'll continue to feel like i'm on the fringe in the school of education.

two years ago, i wrote this blog. i reread it yesterday and it prompted me to write the blog you are reading right now. i am a bit amazed of how much the third segment of the blog remains true. i've learned that scottish people are hard to get to know - they don't seem to want to open up much. i'm very much the same way; i'll be the first to admit that i'm a very difficult person to get to know. and so, two years later, i still feel like the number of scottish people i know is very small. i have these ideas of going to a pub regularly, or joining some sort of group. i've tried the latter several times, but went once and never went back - i'm just not social enough to enjoy trying to make friends and feeling uncomfortable trying. so i remain on the fringe of scottish culture and society. still feeling like a tourist, looking in on this world that doesn't seem quite right somehow; the way tourists must see the street performers when they come to edinburgh in august.

Olympics: Part I (of possibly II, if I'm not too lazy about writing another post)

I love the Olympics!

I hear people who talk about the Olympics and how cool it is to see obscure sports, like handball, badminton, or synchronized diving. Those are okay, I guess, but I like races. Maybe it's because I was a decent sprinter in high school, and I like that feeling of thinking 'I'm going to beat you' as I pass the guy on the outside of a turn (I did that quite a few times and it was the best feeling).

So I've been watchig a lot of swimming. Being a fellow Towson High Alum, I have to root for Michael Phelps, and I do, but what I've really enjoyed is watching the way the BBC covers the races and swimmers in it, as compared to how I remember NBC covering races and swimmers in 2008.

In 2008, Michal Phelps had the most amazing swimming race I've ever seen. I remember screaming at the TV and jumping up and down, watching the race on tape delay (NBC will have it no other way, of course). What I don't remember, and I could be wrong, is the commentators openly rooting for Phelps on the American broadcast. That kind of thing doesn't seem to happen on the BBC.

The other day, I was watching a race with a British woman in it. She had the potential to medal in the race. The commentators were openly sayig 'Common Rebecca. You can do it!'. It was great to hear the commentors show a rooting interest in one of the racers. I understand being impartial, but it's the Olympics! You have to root for your country. I feel (and again, maybe I'm wrong) that American commentators are told not to openly cheer for Americans. This is a case where I think you have every right to be as patriotic as you want to be. Cheering for your country (while not booing other countries, of course) is what the Olypmics are all about. A chance to see your country-folk against other countries-folk.

I just feel like sports commentators in the US don't show feeling for one athlete/team over another, and when they do, they're called a homer. In the Olympics, I want you to be a homer, if you're broadcasting your country's best.

Another thing I've enjoyed in watching the BBC broadcast is the post-race interviews.

In the US three types of athletes are interviewed after a race: the person who is expected to do well and does; the person who is expected do well and doesn't (those are always fun interviews) and the person who isn't expected to do well, but does. You never see the interview of a person who lives up to not-so-great expectations.

I saw a number of British swimmers interviewed by the BBC, who didn't win a medal, and weren't in tears. They loved the experience and loved being cheered on by the mostly British crowd. I really liked these interviews. It was good to see a person come in 6th, or 7th, or 8th, and be happy about it - they showed that the games are more than medals or being number 1. They are about competition, and competition is not just who wins, it's also being a good sport when you don't.

I was on a 4 x 400 relay team that made it to the state championships (I was also on a 4 x 200 relay team that qualified, but my coach didn't want me running that event even though I was a much better 200m runner than 400m runner - as you can probably tell I'm still bitter about that). Anyhow, our 4 x 400 team was placed in the fastest group - we didn't have semi-finals and heats in the Maryland state championships in 1994 - you ran one race that you were placed in on based on qualifying times, and the fastest time at the state meet was declared the winner. We were in the fastest heat.

I knew we had no chance of winning, I would have been happy with 6th. We came in 9th - one team from the second fastest heat was faster than us, the slowest team in the fast heat. To this day, that track meet is the one I remember most. Not because we were beaten by a team that was not even in our race, but because it was the state championships. If there were camera crews there interviewing people, I would have been one of those people who don't get interviewed - the person who isn't expected to do well, and doesn't. But I was very happy to be there.