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then put it in ma mooth.

Jimmy
    IT WIS DAURK when ah got there and ma heid wis wasted drivin on they wee twisty roads. Ah parked the van and went intae the hoose. It wis a huge buildin, used tae be a hotel or sumpn afore the lamas took it ower. In the hall wis this big skinny guy, blue robes an a shaved heid. Wisnae Tibetan though, sounded dead posh.
    ‘Excuse me,’ he says. ‘Could you leave your shoes in the porch please?’
    ‘Sure thing, pal,’ ah says, feelin a bit stupit when ah turnt round and seen rows a boots and shoes and a big sign: ‘Please leave all outer footwear in the porch. Slippers only to be worn inside the house.’
    Course ah’d nae slippers so ah hud tae go aboot in ma stockin soles, and did ah no huv a big hole comin in the toeae the right yin? Just as well Liz wisnae here – she’d huv been mortified. The big guy stauns waitin while ah take aff ma boots.
    ‘Hope yous’ve got air freshener in here,’ ah says, but he just looks at me.
    ‘My name is Vishanadanashonta.’ (Well, it wis sumpn like that. Ah didnae like tae ask him tae repeat it.)
    ‘Jimmy McKenna,’ ah says, puttin oot ma haund, but he just bows.
    ‘I think everyone else has arrived. We’re about to eat.’
    ‘Thank God. Ah could murder a plate a mince and tatties.’
    Ah wis jokin, ah knew the food wis aw vegetarian, but he just looks at me as if ah’m daft.
    ‘Only jokin, Rinpoche.’
    ‘I’m not actually called Rinpoche,’ he says. ‘I’m a trainee. I haven’t taken my final vows.’
    ‘Sorty apprentice, ur ye?’
    ‘You could say that.’
    He opens the door on tae the main room. At the far end was a log fire wi cushions and bean bags piled roond, and in the middle were three wooden tables. Aboot thirty folk sittin at them. The caundles on the tables and the firelight made it look kinda welcomin, but ah wis feelin definitely ooty place.
    ‘There’s a chair here,’ says Vishanawhitsisface.
    Ah sits doon at the endy the table next tae a young guy wi a shaved heid and aboot twenty-five earrings on the wan ear. Vishana pits a bowl a soup in fronty me and the wee guy passes doon a plate wi big dauds a breid cut up rough on it. Ah get wired intae the soup. It wis good, dead thick wi loads a different veggies in it. ‘Pass us the butter, pal,’ ah says tae the wee guy.
    ‘It’s soya margarine,’ he says. ‘There’s a lot of vegans here.’
    ‘Aw well, it’s good tae mix wi folk fae another planet, intit?’
    He doesnae answer, so ah try again.
    ‘Didnae know they hud Buddhists on Vega, but. Thought they were aw Mormons there.’
    The wee guy nods and cairries on eatin his soup, and the auld guy opposite just looks at me as if ah’m the wan that’s come fae another planet. Ah’m beginnin tae panic a bit. Ah wis really lookin forward tae this retreat but so far it’s hard gaun. Then ah catch the eye of a wumman on the other side ae the table, coupla seats doon. She’s smilin at me and ah’m no sure but ah think she actually winked.
    Anyway at this point Vishana comes back and asks if anybody wants mair soup, and ah says, ‘Thanks a lot but ah’ll hang on fur the next course.’
    ‘There’s fruit for the next course,’ he says.
    The wumman across saves me.
    ‘Have some more soup,’ she says. Her voice is quite posh but no English, mair Edinburgh or sumpn. ‘You’ve just arrived, haven’t you? You must be hungry.’
    ‘Aye,’ ah says, and Vishana ladles oot mair soup.
    ‘Thanks, pal, it’s great soup.’
    ‘Thank you,’ says he, ‘I made it myself.’
    Efter we’ve finished we get a cuppa tea and sit roond the fire while Vishana tells us aboot the weekend. Meditation three times a day and teachin every mornin. Efternoons free. We’ve got chores as well; makin meals, washin up and that. Ma job is choppin the veggies the morra efternoon. And then there’s the boy scout bit – nae bevvy, nae fags, boays on wan sidey the hoose, lassies on the ither. Ah didnae expect aBuddhist retreat