Ambassador

I’m a week late, but I am still very much riding the high that follows an awesome weekend of volunteering at the Fergus Scottish Festival and Highland Games.

It was hands down the best weekend of my summer. I’m not exaggerating. It was that good.

This was my third year volunteering, but my second year as part of the ambassador team. On that note, I’d like to give a shout-out to my crew (too many to name here but all solid people who have been performing this role for years before I joined). 

It’s a group that laughs together, enjoys their work and makes everyone who enters the festival’s gates feel welcomed. 

Thank you to Letty, our team lead, for making her volunteers feel valued. And a special tip of the hat to Ernie, whose kindness is matched by his keenness, and whose golf cart driving skills made him always first to the gate. These are my people. I can’t wait to join them again next year. 

One of my roles as an ambassador was to chauffeur festival guests and attendees throughout the site on a golf cart. You meet interesting people when you’re making small talk on a golf cart. After a while, people get to know you and they hail you like a cab. 

The best was being hailed by the Donald Clan, whose members offered me a paper orange pylon cone hat, which, of course I accepted upon learning it was a Scottish football tradition made popular during the FIFA World Cup, when Scottish soccer fans left pylons on monuments. As the saying goes, “When in Rome,” er, Scotland, well, Fergus – whatever, just wear the hat.

I will remember the Clan Chieftain who showed up in full Highland regalia, a senior who required transportation. He was in Chieftain character from the moment we met, and he was a character, alright. I had to drive slowly, given the crowds I had to navigate, and he suggested he could move people out of the way by shouting, “I have a sword and I’m not afraid to use it.”

Funny, because he did have a dress sword, but I suggested we not impale pedestrians. He shrugged, like it was just a suggestion. Later, on another trip together, he bought me shortbread and we talked about history. Kindred spirits.

My first passenger early Saturday morning was the sheep farmer who has been both an exhibitor and a volunteer in retirement in the Heritage section of the festival grounds for more than 25 years. He fed the sheep an early morning snack so I could get a good photo of the flock. We talked about farming and the pride in the hard work it requires, and how teaching future generations about farming was essential. Our talk was brief but impactful. People are fascinating.

To the festival staff and executive who thread the many pieces of this event together to weave it into a tartan of community pride, well done.

To the community that supports it, from the more than 400 volunteers, including community non-profit groups, students, visitors from out of town, and the generations of families who carry on the tradition as part of their legacy, you are the heart of this festival. 

Volunteering brings out the best of a community. 

Maybe we’ll see you next year.