Diary of a Shopkeeper, 29th August

Thanks to BBC Radio Orkney for the photo.

Saturday was busy on Broad Street.  Apart from locals shopping and a few tourists enjoying Scotland’s Most Beautiful High Street, the afternoon was filled with the joyous racket of two blackenings.

The first truck did the rounds of the town, the friends of the groom-to-be announcing their presence by banging loudly on the flatbed.  After fifteen minutes or so, a second truck joined the first, with another sheepish groom, and another bunch of pals banging and cheering.

Sometimes the two trucks were widely separated on their circuit, but at others the first must have slowed, or the second quickened, because they’d be driving along Broad Street one directly behind the other. 

It was like a crazy Olympic sport, where, instead of two Lycra-clad cyclists in pursuit around a Tokyo velodrome, two trucks full of treacle-smeared guys cheered raucously as they chased each other round the town centre.

Eventually the first truck stopped at the cathedral steps, and the groom was rugged out and dragged to the Merkit Cross.  There the age-old tradition of wrapping the man to the cross with clingfilm commenced, shortly followed by the application of copious quantities of beer to his head.

All the time the second truckful was circling and banging, awaiting their chance to haul their friend onto the Kirk Green, and, in front of the whole community, celebrate his impending departure from bachelorhood.

Getting married, or entering a formal civil partnership, is an important moment in the lives of the happy couple.  But not just for them.  Those events are of such importance to the community as a whole that they must be registered and publicly advertised 28 days in advance of the proposed date. 

Just as the blackening is a public celebration, so the publishing of the intention to marry is a public declaration.

Another kind of public declaration took place on the Kirk Green at noon on Saturday, when a group of 100 or so – young and old and inbetween – gathered to make a public statement that they abhor racism in any form and believe it has no place in our community.

Organised by Orkney Oot Wae Racism, the event was called You Can Bide Here, and included songs and poems as well as speeches.  There were colourful banners and witty signs on display too.  It was a busy day in the shop so I couldn’t linger, but I managed to nip out a couple of times to enjoy the entirely positive atmosphere of the event.

For residents of southern cities, political demos are no big deal.  But in small communities they are rare, and require considerable courage from those involved.  We all have to continue to live on a small island, and generally we prefer to keep quiet about our political beliefs, for fear of alienating friends and neighbours.

It was probably only with the No Uranium march in 1979 – when 1000 people gathered in Kirkwall to make their opposition to uranium mining known – that Orcadians started to feel it was acceptable to express political views publicly.  It still doesn’t happen very often.

So, thanks and congratulations to Orkney Oot Wae Racism for being brave enough to make a public stand.  Their event contrasts with the actions of another group (who I won’t give publicity by naming) who recently staged a much smaller protest – anonymously and in a remote location, far from public view.

Their publicity stunt was clearly something they were (quite rightly) ashamed of, if not, they’d have held it on the Kirk Green, where so many of our community’s important public events, including Saturday’s blackenings and anti-racism protest, find their rightful home.

Orkney Oot Wae Racism record and publicise their activities here on Facebook.

This diary appeared in The Orcadian on 1st September. Other diaries continue to appear weekly. I am posting them in this blog a few days after each newspaper appearance, with added illustrations., and occasional small corrections or additions.