Edinburgh Scotland May 2018
Like the day before, and I'd soon discover, the days following, the Edinburgh morning was chilly, damp and gray. My seven year old companion, Mica, uncharacteristically held my hand tightly as we slowly wandered the unfamiliar streets.
"Where are we going, Gramma?"
"On an adventure!" I say in my most confident grandmother voice.
"That means you don't know where we're going," Mica knowingly reminded me.
We continued walking through the residential streets of our apartment to the busier streets leading into the heart of Edinburgh. We found ourselves in the cobblestone plaza outside Usher Hall, an expansive area with steps to hop on and coffee and cocoa vendors to chase away the chill.
"Cafe au'lait and hot cocoa" I ordered from a friendly looking young woman behind a vendor cart.
"This is not France," she scolded me. Then with a bright smile said, "you will like the flat white more than au'lait." She took a minute to explain the difference, and suggested a healthier juice and toast option for Mica. She was so pleasant, asking where we were from and what were we wanting to see in Edinburgh today.
"Where's the playground?" Mica asked. Our vendor gave intricate directions - half a kilometer north to St Cuthbert's graveyard, cut east through the main graveyard path to the Bungydome Playground. Mica was hopping and clapping, "let's go, let's go, let's go."
Ten minutes later, and one spooky walk through a centuries old graveyard, we were at the playground - at the base of the backside of Edinburgh Castle. Mica ran and played and made friends with some younger children who were there.
I sat on a bench and watched Mica. There were other women, about my age, sitting together talking. One woman in particular kept looking at me and waving. I'd smile and give a small wave back and act busy with my phone. Finally, this woman walked over to me and asked, "what granny group do ya belong to? Or are ya new here?"
"Pardon?" I asked, confused.
"What group darlin'?" I didn't have any idea what she was asking.
"We're not from here." I blurted.
"Aye. No ya not." She then explained that she and the other 5 women were a granny group. I learned that these informal groups are abundant in Edinburgh. Grandmothers watch their young grandchildren, ensuring they get 3-4 hours of fresh air every day.
These women bring knitting, sewing, books, paints, blankets and pillows with them to the park. They are incredibly "hands off" with their grandchildren, allowing them to work out differences and take care of each other when they fall or cry. The grannies were very amused with my obsession with my granddaughter - pushing her in the swing, giving her a snack, having a water bottle, giving her a snuggle when she ran over to tell me she'd hurt her knee.
"Is she your first grand?" one woman asked.
"You're only?" suggested another. It didn't take long for both Mica and me to feel self-conscious about my hovering. By day two, we'd part ways at the playground gate and only re-connect when it was time to leave.
I learned about the other granny's families and the work they used to do. When I was in Scotland, I was on vacation from job as the ISU sexual assault advocate. The women were fascinated by the fact that such a position was needed. I tried to explain that a lot of my work was about prevention and safety. One granny, Lila, suggested that "cutting it off if it got in the wrong place" would be an effective way to prevent assault and keep people safe.
One of the other grannies, Doret, kept asking me if I knew specific people. I'd say, "oh, do they live in Ames? or Iowa?" She'd answer that they lived in Dallas, or Boston, or Atlanta. We'd all laugh when she finally admitted she had no idea about US geography. "Same for me about Scotland," I assured her.
We were in Edinburgh for the next three weeks. While my daughter, a visiting professor at Edinburgh University, took my 12 year old grandson to class with her, Mica and I hustled down to the playground to meet up with the grannies and their grandchildren.
Mica, now thirteen years old, claims to have no memories of these play groups. She only remembers me making her walk each morning to get my coffee, then on through the creepy graveyard so we could sit at the base of Edinburgh Castle. There, I would talk with old people in the rain and order her to go play.
