I went to university about four miles away from Llanfair-PG. One day I asked my friend “Who’s this fellow Brad who writes his name all over the university walls? He must think awfully highly of himself.”
It turns out some portion of graffitists thought it a terrible thing that a university in the heart of North Wales should be teaching its classes in English. “Brad” is Welsh for “betrayal.”
Welsh was the principal language spoken, (by about 2/3 of people), and some shops would not help you in English. I got a pass as a foreigner, but really English were not welcome many places. It was known which bars would be dangerous for an English speaker. I learned enough Welsh to say good morning, good evening, two pints of Guinness please, and that was sufficient for me.
It’s a difficult thing to see from so far away, at a distance from which the difference seems so tiny, but the English generally are abusive dicks to the Welsh, and the Welsh are generally pissed off about it. The Welsh language has made something of a comeback, considering that as recently as the mid-20th century Welsh was legally suppressed and children would be beaten for speaking Welsh in school. It wasn’t until 1993 that Welsh gained equal legal status with English.
It’s the last two letters of “drobwll” (whirlpool) and the first two of “Llantysilio” (the church of St. Tysilio). Once you have maneuvered your tongue into the strange position necessary to pronounce the first “LL”, you might as well just leave it there for the second one.
On that same bike trip mentioned above (summer 1985), I wanted a t-shirt that had the Welsh dragon and “Cymru” on it. We found a shop in Caernarfon with a nice silkscreened version. I impressed the owner by more or less correctly pronouncing Cymru (something like KIM-rih); he was curious about American t-shirt technology. We embarrassedly told him about the garish airbrushed t-shirts of Florida beaches. He was fascinated that the airbrushing was one-off, directly onto the shirts. I felt horror then that we might have been introducing the t-shirt equivalent of McDonald’s to Wales.
With my luck, I’d be trying to cross a border and looking at those lines (queues) for EU citizens and Everyone Else, then noticing that the length of the latter is suddenly much longer (and moving slower than before).
Before an emergency joint session of Congress yesterday, President Clinton announced US plans to deploy over 75,000 vowels to the war-torn region of Bosnia. The deployment, the largest of its kind in American history, will provide the region with the critically needed letters A,E,I,O and U, and is hoped to render countless Bosnian names more pronounceable.
“For six years, we have stood by while names like Ygrjvslhv and Tzlynhr and Glrm have been horribly butchered by millions around the world,” Clinton said. “Today, the United States must finally stand up and say ‘Enough.’ It is time the people of Bosnia finally had some vowels in their incomprehensible words. The US is proud to lead the crusade in this noble endeavour.”
The deployment, dubbed Operation Vowel Storm by the State Department, is set for early next week, with the Adriatic port cities of Sjlbvdnzv and Grzny slated to be the first recipients. Two C-130 transport planes, each carrying over 500 24-count boxes of “E’s,” will fly from Andrews Air Force Base across the Atlantic and airdrop the letters over the cities.
Citizens of Grzny and Sjlbvdnzv eagerly await the arrival of the vowels. “My God, I do not think we can last another day,” Trszg Grzdnjkln, 44, said. “I have six children and none of them has a name that is understandable to me or to anyone else. Mr. Clinton, please send my poor, wretched family just one ‘E.’ Please.”
Said Sjlbvdnzv resident Grg Hmphrs, 67: “With just a few key letters, I could be George Humphries. This is my dream.”
The airdrop represents the largest deployment of any letter to a foreign country since 1984. During the summer of that year, the US shipped 92,000 consonants to Ethiopia, providing cities like Ouaouoaua, Eaoiiuae, and Aao with vital, life-giving supplies of L’s, S’s and T’s.
(originally appeared in print version of The Onion)
Her name: Erin Riley Foster.
Her parents: Rileys and O’Learys
Her life: dedication to community, laughing and joy, “good trouble” and justice. A warrior to the last who left us too soon.
Her memorial was full of amazing people. Laughter, tears, some mild curse words, and gratitude. This may sound odd but really it was the best memorial I have ever been to. We have been so lucky to have her. I know she’d rather I’d be laughing than crying.
ETA: upgraded link from WAPO to Representative Lewis’ tweet; also, always remember thank you note
They could make a Star Trek movie in which a space probe comes to Earth seeking contact with a being that can communicate in the lost language of Wales.
