I Value Clichés

 A response to a comment that we can't judge the past by today's standards:  The past created the present, we are as we are because of it, and short of time travel nothing can be altered, we can however learn from the past never again to make the same mistakes. We now have a government in Cymru able to redress the balance, based on what we judge to be today's needs, to put right past grievances within its domain, to the extent of its limited power. The perception of what was and wasn't a mistake differs depending on one's point of view, everything is relative and different people see different rights & wrongs, The Labour party sees fewer grievances and the need to stay attached to England; whilst Plaid Cymru sees poverty in a rich country and an ancient culture, its language & literature, brought to the point of extinction as a result of this blind attachment, and would redress the balance by attaching ourselves instead to the wider world. The only reason I'm mentioning the Tories is that the longer we bury our heads in the sands of England the longer we will be stuck with them.

The French Trip

Writing the previous reminds me that I still have a story left; I've been asked to write something but I thought I'd run out of material,  now memories of a certain French trip are coming back. I'm the type of person who, knowing that I've got friends to go back to I like to be by myself; one evening I went wandering around the Pigalle and entered into one of the 'sleazy' clubs, the kind that have someone standing outside enticing potential customers; anyway I went in, I was the only customer there, ordered a drink and sat down. A rather smart girl came and sat down by me, we got chatting and after a while we were served champagne; I said "I didn't order that", to which the waiter replied that that was the way it worked, I refused to pay, no question, I was outnumbered, dragged to the manager's office where he took my wallet from my pocket and the amount for the champagne. Not to be intimidated by this I told the manager that after that he could buy me a drink, I went back to the bar, got served, drank my beer and left. Outside there were hundreds, if not thousands of red scarves; when I related what had happened they wanted to go in and smash the place up, the club was lucky that I put it down to experience. I wandered forlornly down the road until I came to a bistrot with a door that had a window, I looked through to see a bar where the only customers were girls; the cockles of my heart warmed to the situation, the previous encounter put out of mind I walked in and ordered a beer. I got chatting to one of the girls who was very down to earth & friendly, just like Merthyr, I felt at home, they were mainly Arab, all coloured, except for a blue eyed blonde English girl behind the bar. Mealtime came, the English girl went across the road and came back with food that she apportioned and I got a share. None of the girls were customers, they all worked there, and my friend politely began to insist that I go around to the back room with her; she was very nice as I explained that I'd just had a bad experience and that I'd only come in for a drink in good company, although she did continue asking and I continued saying no, after a few more drinks I succumbed, we went into a back room where she told me how she wanted it, after a while of this unexpected erotic exercise, she complimented me, I paid her the sum requested and we went back to the bar where her friend asked me now that we'd finished would I go with her, I said, "I only came in for a drink and to relax. I passed a good evening in excellent company before leaving and heading back to my hotel. 

Under Orders

My response to a reply that teachers weren't under orders to force our children to wear 'The Welsh not', that they were themselves Welsh people happy to collaborate. The Welsh language was banned in schools in 1870 by an order of an Act of Parliament, after a government inspection of the state of education in Cymru/Wales by non-Welsh speaking school inspectors decided that our home tongue was a negative influence. The children were forced by government legislation to speak English; some were shamed into letting go of their birthright, some like O. M. Edwards refused to be humiliated, on the contrary it put their back up, and he personally worked all his life to further the language ironically becoming chief inspector of schools in Wales; his sentiments carried over to his son Sir Ifan ab Owen Edwards who founded 'Urdd Gobaith Cymru', an all Wales youth movement where children play & learn, in fact all activities, through the medium of Welsh. I began with the greatest of English ironies, I end with a Welsh one.

Second Hand Settee

 I made sure that Doudou was amply provided for when I left the house this morning and took to the road, direction Plouigneau for a 15 euros settee arranged yesterday on the second hand sale site for Finistere. Last week, same direction I took the wrong road 3 times, this time only once; turned out destiny wise not to be the wrong road I thought, as I was going down the hill to Montroulez I espied in the distance what was a magnificent sight of towers rising to the sky in a forest right over on the other side of the valley, I continued down the hill into the town, drove over one of the rivers leading in, thereby crossing the valley and back up the other side to buy my settee, and with help from the boyfriend of the girl who contacted me we squeezed it into the back of my old estate. Coming up the hill I noticed there was a chateau serving as a bed & breakfast, so after I made the purchase I went back, trusting my luck I drove up their driveway, naturally enough, to be met by the lady of the house coming out to ask me what I wanted, strange, I sensed straightaway that she was English before her accent gave her away; it wasn't the chateau I was hoping to find, 'though she tentatively allowed me to take some photos of the front & the adjacent family chapel, but not around the back; I took my photos, then spent the afternoon searching for the round towers. I took different roads and found different chateaux, I even drove straight past to its neighbour, there were three on the same road. On my way back I stopped at a chapel, and snapped three churches. I looked for the round tower that I missed the other day, couldn't find it so I drove home. Doudou came out to welcome me, couldn't find Caru anywhere, for a moment I was worried, I even thought that perhaps she'd somehow managed to get outside and that I'd run her over, but no, I came in and stood still until I heard her squeal, which enabled me to pinpoint her position in a little corner struggling to get out from under some odds & ends left lying around that she'd managed to get to now that she's walking, if I can call it that, by herself. A demain.

Ironic

Isn't this the greatest of ironies:- In 1870 the Welsh Language was banned in schools in an effort to homogenize an English Britain; today there are 64 different languages spoken in the area surrounding Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. London alone has more than 300 different languages; if Matthew Arnold were alive today the shock would kill him.

Reply to a response

Yes, but I come from an area that got stuck between the two, it's referred to as 'Wenglish'. In the history of things it will turn out to be temporary. We should be speaking English correctly, and Welsh correctly, but as our accents are also a signpost to where we come from, there's nothing wrong with speaking an educated, cultured English, but with a Welsh accent; Richard Burton being a good example. I have a f/b friend who speaks many languages, he has chosen to go for an area dialect in each one so that you could mistake him for a native. These days even Eton pupils try to avoid speaking with a received pronunciation. However on his basic point I suppose he's right; personally it's my way of affirming my South Welsh valley identity when conversing to English speakers, so that they are left in no doubt as to where I'm from, if there is a doubt I tell them MERTHYR; it should also reflect my personality, there's no way that I could speak 'posh', it wouldn't be me. Horses for courses.
            The response was an example of an Irish language activist speaking Irish with his home accent, but who preferred to speak the foreign tongue with a received (posh) English accent. It's a good argument and technically correct in a perfect world, but I for one couldn't do it, I wouldn't want to lose my Merthyr accent, I couldn't be a la di da, especially in front of my friends. Coming from a working class background I'd feel as though I was betraying my heritage; the Irish political background is different.

Turmoil & Trauma

A friend of mine was brought up in the Welsh speaking community of Clwydyfagwyr, Merthyr; he went to work at one of the Lloyd's underwriters, when he came back on his holidays 6 months later we went out for a drink, as he spoke his accent could have come from another planet; imagine the turmoil in his mind, his abhorrence of the accent he'd been brought up with; a girl in the room picked him up on it, but as a Merthyr girl herself she wasn't in a position to throw stones as she also spoke a little differently. There are too many of us who have been 'marked' by the presence of our big neighbour causing us to search for the light away from under it's huge shadow both mentally & physically. We have to learn and to teach to have a Welsh standpoint , 'Twickers' is not 'HQ', and to see things from a Welsh viewpoint, it's the Severn Sea', not 'The Bristol Channel', but we are moving forward, Carwyn is holding the fort for the moment until we take up our rightful place at the helm. 

Growing Up

Caru is 17 days old, between being half smothered, licked by Doudou and burying herself in the search for milk, I just witnessed her scratching herself, just like her mother, although she can't yet walk properly; it was amazing to watch her first 'grown up' action..

Our Language

 What is shame? it's a shame and it's sad that if we Welsh & Bretons could build a portal to let in the the ghosts of our past, and that if we met & hugged our great grandparents, we would have nothing to say to them, because they would be speaking a different language. Can anything be more shameful than the wanton destruction of the key part of our heritage. Admittedly it was state policy in London, but it's now the 21st century and God helps them who help themselves. The Welsh intelligensia from the Tudors and even earlier, including Glyndwr, were educated in London and/or Oxford, so it's no wonder that when Cymru did its part for the enlightenment movement spreading across Europe & America, it was the likes of Iolo Morgannwg and the London-Welsh societies, the Cymmrodorion & the Gwyneddogion who stood for the ethos that "every folk had its own particular identity, which was expressed in its language & culture". In the middle of the 19th c. Lady Charlotte Guest & Lady Llanover worked positively for the language, they were friendly with Villemarque who was their counterpart in Brittany, and the Welsh farm labourer could be counted amongst the most literate in the world, there was a genuine revival. Lady Charlotte translated the Mabinogion to a wider world, Villemarque wrote an anthology of Breton songs & stories. Then it all came crashing down, it became government policy to ban the Welsh Language in schools, decided on after the release of the 1847 report of the inspectors of education, nick-named 'Brâd y Llyfrau Gleision' (Treason of the Blue Books) followed by the education Act of 1870. The Welsh (& Breton) speaking children were humiliated by having to wear a piece of wood around the neck if they continued speaking their mother tongue. I think it's fair to say that it affected us.                                         

Rhodri, Labour & Cymru/Wales

I've been listening to Rhodri Morgan on Radio Cymru/Wales; I must say I have a lot of time for his wisdom, an atypical former Labour politician, totally independently minded, highly educated and immensely knowledgable, what the hell was he doing in the Labour party, although he did start late, and I suppose his family was Labour as is his wife. For his generation, circle of friends, and Cardiff society the choice was Conservative or Labour, in the valleys there was no choice so we got lumbered with the Kinnocks of this world where getting on & out was their priority, making a bit on the side was an added bonus. I have no time for the ego-centric Peter Hain; if I was to say what I think of the Kinnocks I would be thrown out of f/b. I like the way that Carwyn Jones is putting Cymru on the political map and raising the the Tories hackles for doing it, but would he be so gung ho if it was Labour in power in London & Peter Hain reining him in as Secretary of State. I'm sorry, no not really, but there is only one Party in Wales that puts the country first, a new start with a new leader, she even speaks like me. To be able to identify with is often the crux, and if you identify with Wales there should be no question; RHONDDA RULES, Bridgend second.