I am unapologetically Scottish. The Leslies began around 1089 in Aberdeenshire, Scotland with a fellow named Bartholomew from Hungary. We have a castle of sorts that was reconstructed from the ruins by Baron David Leslie, who has since sold it to a Swiss millionaire. David still lives near the castle in a smaller house. One day, I hope to make it to Leslie, Aberdeenshire to visit places that were occupied by my ancestors...in fact, I am relishing the chance. Family history facinates me intensely.
But until that day comes, I must "visit" via the World Wide Web. I have several photos that were emailed to me from one dear soul who lives near Leslie and this has only intensified my desire to visit my "native land". However, I have been privliged to have recently acquaint myself with an expatriate from Scotland through a co-worker of mine. Seems that she met this lad while she lived in Scotland for a year or so & fell in love with him. He has made his second visit to the US & now he and I have become good friends. I will soon be taking him on a Sunday trip to visit yet another fellow Scot (Clan McFersonson) to enjoy an afternoon of shooting. I don't shoot, but my new Scottish friend does, being a former enlistee of the Scottish Army.
I am quite eager be able to get to know my new Scottish friend since our journey will be a 90 minute ride to hook up with McFerson. I've never had a chance to engage with a native Scot and the thought of becoming good friends with someone from my "homeland" is facinating at the least...and simply exhilerating at best.
Leslie history has gripped me since my joining the Clan Leslie Society and attending a couple of the bi-annual gatherings held at various Highland Games nearby. About the only thing that could give me a bigger buzz is to actually meet a true Leslie who lives in Aberdeenshire, Scotland. I'm afraid if that ever happened, I may be given a restraining order from that person.
It is too bad that family & the genuine interest in one's roots or heritage is not as facinating with most of society as it used to be. I find a sort of comfort in knowing where I came from & how my namesake got here. When I tell others of my interest in my family's roots, they express such envy of my passion. Like it's something I have that they cannot obtain. Yet, it is not that difficult to persue. It only takes a little curiosity & a desire to do a bit of research. I have not joined any of those sites on the Internet where you must pay to access birth or marraige records of one's relatives. I just have joined a few free listservs that do nothing more than connect people together.
Do you know how posessed I am about this whole Scotland thing? I have a "teach yourself Gaelic" course (I've only made it to Chapter One because the 18 character Gaelic Alphabet is befuddling the daylights out of me). I ordered a book/CD release of ScotSpeak written by two Scottish university professors on how to properly speak Scots English with the appropriate dialect for four different Scottish regions (Dumfreys, Edinburgh, Glasgow, and Aberdeenshire). I have a huge Scottish flag displayed in my office at work and a small Scottish windsock hung from my car's rearview mirror.
Oh, and I have also been one of the brave souls who have ingested haggis. Trust me. If you have to ask, you don't need to know.
Okay, there is a few things that are typically Scottish that I do not do. I'm not much into golf, I'm not Presbyterian, nor am I a whiskey drinker. But I can listen to a Scotsman talk all day long. And I plan on using the time I have with my new Scottish expatriate friend wisely to learn as much as much as I can about the culture of my family's birth and to help him have a deeper love for his home, too.
