• Sabbatical: Back to Glasgow

    I’ve arrived back in Glasgow. For those who haven’t realised what I’ve been up to, I’ve been on a big sabbatical trip that has kept me out of the country for 12 weeks.

    I was a little cautious about indicating online that my flat was empty for an extended period of time. Facebook friends will know something about where I’ve been but twitter and blog friends won’t know as much.

    It is very strange being back. I’m pleased to be home but have a bit of a dose of jet lag which is making me feel decidedly under par. I conquered it on the way out by going swimming in the Pacific soon after I arrived in Vancouver. I suspect that I’d better not try that down at Pacific Quay.

    I’ve been living with my watch jumping around all over the place for weeks. Since I set off in September, I’ve shifted time zones forward and backwards by 22 hours altogether. I know some people do this in their work all the time, but it has been a new experience for me and one that has been, at times, rather disconcerting.

    Anyway, for those interested, here is the list of places visited. I was trying to visit cathedrals and other interesting churches, looking for those which were growing and trying to search out those with a progressive/inclusive agenda. I find I learn from people who are different from me. You learn most I suspect from people who are different from you but like you in some ways. Some of these were substantial visits of a couple of weeks, other were side trips where I met with people for conversations along the way or simply experienced what was going on around me.

    Fairly obviously, it has been a busy trip. An incredible one too. It is a period of time that I’ll never forget. Of course, whilst I’ve been exploring these places, I’ve been meeting the most amazing people – “12 weeks hanging out with cool people” was how one of them described it. I’ve also been enjoying learning so much not only about matters ecclesiastical as about Canada and the USA themselves.

    Inevitably, coming back to the UK is a bit of a shock to the system. As I try to get my mind around what time it is, I am also starting to put it all together and pick out the themes and moods that I’ve been travelling around. On the plane on the way back home I looked through, sequentially, all the photographs I’ve taken. There are two and a half thousand of them.

    I’ve done the most interesting and refreshing project I could think to accomplish with my sabbatical time away and am immensely grateful to all those who made it possible.

    Just a few days more and I will be back at work in St Mary’s. Then the outworking of it all as I bring what I’ve learned into my daily life.

4 responses to “The Privatization of Public Space and the Commonwealth Games”

  1. Christine McIntosh Avatar

    We were there yesterday as well – you should use Swarm and I might have known! But we left after the first gate for the same reasons as you’re complaining here – that feeling of being in school, or a prison, perhaps. Not a good move, Glasgow!

  2. Robin Avatar
    Robin

    > More troubling to me is that people on the Green were apparently being told to cover up YES badges indicating their support for Scottish Independence.

    What about people with NO badges? Or was no-one wearing one?!

    Seriously, a good post and I agree with it.

  3. Matthew Pemble Avatar
    Matthew Pemble

    I was not only frisked each way walking from Douglas St to “The Hub” (back of the Science Centre) but, on the way back when I was actually going to stop in the BBC’s carnival to buy some (in the end, over-priced and under-nice) lunch, the security weasel suggested that I might like to opt out of walking through a public right of way and go some 500m elsewhere so I wasn’t an inconvenience to her and her colleagues.

    A. She wasn’t a volunteer.
    B. The restriction of individual liberty is the first and most desired recourse of petty British officialdom.
    C. Unlike petty French officialdom, whose first and most desires recourse is Madam Guillotine.

  4. Alan McManus Avatar

    After a PR blunder involving a local Guru of ethnic minority (technically the majority) Herod was anxious to be seen to be benevolent. “5K” had a historical precedent; the concept was simple, marketable and had obvious corporate tie-ins with opportunities for merchandising. The Vizier sourced another Guru, a cousin of the dead one but with better ratings and demographics (and a lot more camera-friendly). Generic ads (CARING/ SHARING/ WEALTH CREATION) went viral on social media, the venue was booked and tickets (£15) sold online.
    Jesus proved difficult from the start. He wanted it free and couldn’t see the need to fence the Table. He couldn’t even see the need for the Table. “Okay” said the Vizier (whose eyes kept glazing over as Security patched in on his Link-Up) “we love you, we love the robes and sandals, we love the concept – yeah? Let’s just keep the synergy flowing and focus on half-full, blue skies – sorry – Mike? Yeah PR here, how’s that bulldozing going? Yeah? Flat. And can you schmooze the protesters off-camera? Yeah. We’ll need the whole space for carparking. Sorry – so, Jesus, right? Cool. Just some Health & Safety details to go over:
    • Bread ‘n Fishes shrinkwrapped 5K pax must remain in the corporate cooler till distribution by authorised personnel only – all in Hi Viz.
    • No healing or blessing, it’s just too big a crowd and we don’t want a crush at the barriers (also healing kinda spins our plucky human interest stories outta line).
    Your slot is 3 mins max, Jesus, we’ve drafted your mission statement, here. Any vocab issues? We want the tone local, down with the Palestinian people, not too obviously Roman. Let’s just go over it:
    1. Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s (we don’t do God)
    2. Yes you can! (can you avoid the whole structural poverty rant? it comes across as patronising and we want to emphasise equal opportunity)
    3. The parable of the talents (just as it is)
    Cool.”
    Everything went smoothly on the day. The whole area had been cleared of undesirables and Herod’s helicopters, horseguards and hounds kept the peace in the huge crowd packed between the steel barriers, happily clutching their tokens for Bread ‘n Fishes; tasteful woven willow miniature food baskets (blessed ones £5 extra) and leaflets for voluntourism. Alternating muzak and plucky soundbites on the massive LED screens kept the crowd amused while they waited for the main act.
    Which never came. Jesus had slipped through the crowds and walked away.

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