The piper ‘pipes in’ the Haggis carried by the staff behind him.

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So, what do expats of Scottish extraction and Ticos in Costa Rica get up to when given half a chance? They eat haggis, that’s what!

All right, that’s a slight exaggeration – not all, but we were quite a crowd the other evening, when a hundred or so gathered in the Escazu Country Club for the ‘Robert Burns’ Supper.

For the uninitiated (and that included many of us), January 25th is the anniversary of his birth – Burns was the Scottish poet responsible for the poems, My Love is like a red, red rose and Auld Lang Syne. Born in 1759, in the kitchen of his parents’ cottage, he pretty much drank and womanised himself to an early grave at 37.



A ‘bonnie’ couple on ‘Burns’ night in Escazu, Costa Rica

However, his legacy of poetry that broke away from the formal artificiality of the early 18th century to popularise the ballad form and dialect of the common people ensured his place as Scotland’s favourite poet.



An evening in late January is marked on today’s social calendar to celebrate his life, not just in Burns’ homeland, but the world over, and since good Burns’ aficionados are intent on replicating his skills for knowing how to have a good party, the dinners tend to be fairly lively affairs.



A good time was indeed had by all.

We arrived in good style welcomed by the sound of bagpipes from an American-Scottish piper, Keith Ludeke, decked out in full dress tartan – sporran, bonnet, dirk and all. Several kilts graced the room, my son’s included (pulling rank through his grandmother Henderson, who was from north of the border) and a number of tartan sashes decorated the lassies’ outfits.



Kevin Ludeke -A Scottish/American piper

Burns Suppers are full of tradition and our Master of Ceremonies opened proceedings by toasting in the haggis. The piper cam’ tae oor toon, And he played bonnilie. Well, Keith played very bonnily, escorted by an eclectic troupe of kilted men and piped the haggis to centre-stage where it was given its traditional address (yes, the Scots read poems to their haggises) and on the line An’ cut you up wi’ ready slight,and the poor thing was stabbed with dramatic enthusiasm.

In case you are a little hazy about haggis, and I hope you are ready for this, a sheep’s stomach bag is filled with dry oatmeal, the chopped up heart, liver and lungs of the sheep, mutton suet, onions with Jamaica and cayenne pepper. This delicacy is served up with mashed potatoes and ‘neeps (turnips) as part of a typical Burns’ Supper.



Master of ceremonies Ian Young cuts the ‘Costa Rican’ haggis

Around our table of ten, we had a good dash of Celtic blood fortunately watered down by a Norwegian-extract American, a Californian and three Sassanachs (pure English, brave souls!). Dorothy MacKinnon – Canadian-Scot – started the dissipation in thoroughly fine fashion by sneaking in an excellent single malt whisky called ‘Oban’ – which being in a jam jar bore a more than close resemblance to a huge urine sample. Undaunted, we prepared to do it justice.

However, you don’t just slug back the booze on these occasions. Our malt was served in an antique silver quaich (small two-handled drinking cup) and each of us was provided with poetic quotes from the Burn’s repertoire. In turn, we read out our quote, tasted from the quaich and passed it on to share with the rest of the table.

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Fine, that started off very well but remember, we were ten and by the time the fifth toast was doing the rounds, some of those tasters were becoming distinctly hazy about the sharing aspect – the quaich had to be refilled mid-toast a couple of times. However, by the ninth round, we didn’t care any more and were simply happy to keep up with the ‘spirit’ of Burns’ reputation. But the jam jar was empty and we turned to the bottles of very quaffable wines and on with the Supper.

Meanwhile, back at the official proceedings, toasts followed to include The Address to the Lassies and an equally pithy Response from the Lassies to help keep alive and kicking the time-honoured Battle of the Sexes.



Anne Antkiw’s very eloquent ‘Response from the Lassies’

And onto the hornpipes, jigs, strathspeys and reels. Our resident Scottish dance experts and heroes (just imagine trying to get some 50 fairly well tippled mixed-nationality partygoers into the correct positions for a Scottish reel) managed to get the group though their paces without major injury or damage to the furniture.

After that, it was music and dancing till the wee hours to the surprisingly authentic and superlative playing of Scottish tunes by a Tico band called Peregrino Gris .



The versatile Tico piper from Peregrino Gris

For some reason my recollections of this part of the evening become increasingly and curiously vague, but then, there’s naethin’ as thirsty as music yes, we did it in style and it was indeed a grand and bonny Burns’ Supper night.

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Writer Vicky Longland seen here with a fine single malt Scotch in an antique silver quaich

With an honours degree in English from a Welsh university, South America seemed an obvious place to head! During thirty years in Latin America, Vicky Longland has worked as language teacher, Spanish-English translator and as travel writer for local and international publications.

Costa Rica Culture – A Scottish ‘Burns’ night in Escazu.

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