Hiddenite is never easy to find, it never has been, never will be. Certainly not on this special occasion to honor Robert Burns, on a night which was black as eternity - with fog and mist creeping across the moors, seemingly fresh from some nearby dark sea, cloaking the whole world in dark, wet misery.
There was a little bit of light inside the Hiddenite Center. It was not bright, but there was a small stage near one end of the large open room which glared in its own small brilliance and crawled with electric wiring.
We went to this ceremony honoring the memory of Robert Burns to see the performance of the ASU group, and watch them dance their Scottish jigs. They’ve been in Scotland for the last several summers so they will know of what they do. But they didn’t show for the performance tonight, perhaps they couldn't find it? So it was all local grown.
First was the haggis. Well what can I say? The four of us who came up together from Hickory were vegetarians to begin with. Some of us will eat meat, from time to time, but this was offal. Animal byproducts? We don’t even feed our dogs stuff like that. (although they would LOVE haggis!) So - what’s the point? Good veggie fare would change the entire atmosphere of the whole party and
everyone would be happy - instead of “double-dog-dare-you” tense, and grinningly grim. The Master of the House may have carved the haggis with a ceremonial sword but let's face it, smiles look funny when the lips are spread less far than the nostrils. So the haggis was a flop. But it was a spectacular, measured, triumphal, successful, incredible flop. That only insures its repeat performance next year. Come on guys - this is dumb. Think! Why did so many people leave Scotland in the first place?
What did the haggis taste like? My take on it seemed a very poorly prepared, watered-down turkey dressing with a faint odor of foul mold
And that was it. There was some stirring Scottish music played from a hammered dulcimer and a screeching bagpipe - which was a little like an audible haggis. Cabbage, potatoes, and a roast beef/biscuit thing followed the haggis, then dessert which they called “Tipsy Laird”, and which was SO good that it almost changed the entire atmosphere of the evening.
So it was a lonely place. Strange memories stirred in the darkness, and haunting melodies called out across the ages. It was a little bit like a peek inside an old abandoned grave. A special night in Hiddenite? Maybe.
