As you will recall, November 2012 saw me attend my first St Andrews Day Caledonian Ball in Dhaka, which had all the trimmings, piper, ceilidh band (a Scottish country dance) and food to match. There I was dressed in my kilt wheeking around the dance floor doing my fantastic Gay Gordon (its a dance readers - only a dance) and completely forgetting I was over 5000 miles away from my home shore. Madam wasn't there, hence wheeking was possible. Wind forward two months and there I am in my trews this time doing it all over again (well, Madam was present - less wheeking). The difference this time, it was held outside under a marquee, hence not wearing the kilt in case the mosquitos fancied a party in the nether regions - I am Scotsman.
Now being one of the few Scots in Dhaka, I was asked whether I could read a Burns poem. Now the person doing the asking was a Dundonian British Bangladeshi (confused in other words), so yours truly, had to consider the consequences of saying no ... and of course I was delighted. What shall I read? There will be an international audience so it most likely will be intelligible anyway.
It was easy - A Man's A Man For A' That. A poem which could be described as an anthem for civil liberty and freedom of everyone, something which could be applied to Bangladesh who try and survive and somehow get their way out of poverty whilst developing a country for the future - something dear to Robert Burns's heart. Of course, there was more ceilidh dancing, more constrained wheeking and more whisky - deja vu number two.
Now if that wasn't all mad enough, the following day was the start of the 6 nations rugby with Scotland taking on England for the Calcutta Cup. Nerve-racking stuff - deja vu number 3. It was becoming more serious, when the likely hotspots of Dhaka decided not to show the game, but in the end, it turned out all right. Now the TS taking his ceremonial diplomatic duties responsibly and always wanting to educate commonwealth and foreign heathens about the finer points of Scottish rugby, there I was dressed in my rugby shirt wearing my kilt and using half a can of mosee spray - taking precautions no less, to cheer on the mighty blues. All I can say it was a surreal experience, never mind in the bar, just walking down the street with all the rickshaw drivers looking on. They obviously recognised a fine figure of a man wearing a kilt! Or something like that.
Anyhow the 'what not again' spoilt the deja vu (or merely added to it) weekend - Scotland were robbed and lost again. Will there be anymore dej vu weekends you cry? Well watch this space as the TS as a plan.....! In the meantime I will be decked out and in the bar on match days for the next few weeks, no doubt encountering more deja vu Scottish rugby moments, or more probably drowning my sorrows.