BY REBECCA BRAYTON

Jason Gillespie Rosen walks with excited trepidation, following the sound of bagpipes and the kilt-clad that drift toward the event. The lush green moors of Scotland have been replaced by a vast, grassy stretch in Pierrefonds, but the general effect is the same. Rosen smiles at the thought of learning about his Scottish heritage at this year’s Highland Games, which took place Sunday at the George Springate Sports Centre.

“The most striking thing was the multiculturalism,” says Rosen. “I expected there to be many different races attending the event, but not necessarily participating,” he says. Rosen paints the picture of the stereotypical burly redhead, and there were definitely many to be seen swaggering around in traditional garb.

Rosen laughs as he notices the beer tent, brought to the event by an Irish pub, people eating the local delicacy of poutine, and a smoked meat deli stand all in the same corner. But the day would not be complete, Rosen says, without a taste of customary Scottish fare.

“So I tried haggis,” he says. The traditional Scottish dish of various spices mixed with sheep’s “pluck” — also known as the heart, liver and lungs — is served up hot to Rosen, and he digs in. The chefs mention that in Quebec, cooking the dish the traditional way — in a sheep’s stomach — is illegal, so the process is copied in a microwave. Rosen describes haggis as similar to pâté, and it is dished up with “neeps and tatties,” also known as mashed turnips and potatoes and a drambuie sauce. “I’m glad I can say I’ve tried it,” he declares, “But if it’s a choice between a nice cracked pepper pâté and haggis, I’ll take the pâté,” he says apologetically.

Walking around the track, Rosen notices the caber tossing competition. Large logs the size of telephone poles are hoisted up by one end and flipped onto the other by competitors. This sport is part of the strongman competition, which also includes the hammer throw and throwing the stone, a sport similar to modern day shot put. Other competitions at the Games include Highland dancing and bag piping, with groups of pipers practicing and performing all day for the benefit of spectators.

“You can obviously see the dedication, pride and commitment of these people; just look at all the kilts,” Rosen says, joking. He says he was fully prepared to go home with a souvenir kilt, but after looking at the cost — upwards of $500 — Rosen says he’s happy just to go back with his new-found zeal for his Scottish heritage.

“All the different clans are very proud of their heritage, and are more than happy to tell you all about it. . .They’re not offended by your ignorance,” he says, mentioning that each clan has a tent with two people in it, ready to tell their family’s history to complete strangers for the whole day.

As for his own history, Rosen says his Scottish ancestors emigrated from Scotland in the late 19th century, but he says anything beyond that aspect of his heritage is a mystery to him. The 26-year-old has spent the last year traveling the world. Even so, he says he never really felt the draw to Scotland. “After today, however, I’d go there in a second,” he relents. “I really feel I missed out on something special by skipping Scotland.”