Cymraeg ar y trên

On my train back from London on Sunday evening the train manager started someone of his announcements Welsh. For example he said, “Croeso, welcome to this train”, and when checking tickets he said, “Diolch yn fawr, thank you very much” to everyone. I think this was the first time I’d heard Welsh being used on a train, so it caught my attention. I think that announcements on trains and stations in South Wales are usually in Welsh and English, but I had never heard them any elsewhere. The departures board in London Euston also listed the final destination of the trains as ‘Holyhead Caergybi’.

In Wales most signs are bilingual, as is printed material produced by public bodies. In Gaelic-speaking parts of Scotland some signs are bilingual and token amounts of Gaelic can be heard on ferries and sometimes elsewhere. The situation is similar with Manx in the Isle of Man. In Ireland many signs and notices are bilingual, but not much Irish is to be heard on public transport.

In other regions where minority languages are spoken, how visible / audible are the languages?

Goaill arrane son ushtey

Hannee mee ayns Lunnin oie Jesarn, as moghrey jea ren mee rouail mygeayrt Lunnin. Hie mee dys Covent Garden er y traen fo-halloo, agh Cha row red erbee taghyrt ayns shen. Myr shen hooil mee dys Kerrin Trafalger, rish y Mall, as shaghey Plaasagh Buckingham. Va ratçh daawheeyl ayn – paart jeh triathalon. Eisht hooil mee trooid Pairk Noo Jamys as dys awin Thames. Hooil mee rish yn awin dys Droghad Toor ny yei shen, as dee mee kirbil. Haghyr mee er carrjyn voish Kior Pobble Bangor ayns shen as hie shin dys thie bee ry-cheilley.

Eisht ghow olteynyn y kior arrane rish olteynyn ram kioryn elley voish Sostyn, Nablin, Vretin Veg as Nerin – va mysh queig cheead jeu ayn, er lhiam, er son airgid y hroggal son WaterAid. Ny bleeantyn roish shen ghow mysh arrane roo hammah, agh mleeaney ren mee reaghey dy ve ‘syn lught eaishtagh, as v’eh yindyssagh.

I stayed in London on Saturday night, and yesterday morning I went for a wander around London. I got the tube to Covent Garden, but there wasn’t much happening there. So I walked to Trafalgar Square, along the Mall and by Buckingham Palace. There was a cycle race happening – part of a triathlon. Then I walked through St Jame’s Park and to the Thames. I walked along the river to Tower Bridge after that, and had some lunch. I bumped into friends from the Bangor Community Choir and we went to a café together.

Then the members of the choir, along with members of many other choirs from England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland – there were about 500 of them, I think – sang in order to raise money for WaterAid. In previous years I have sung with them as well, but this year I decided to be in the audience, and it was wonderful.

Lunnin

Hie mee dys Lunnin jea dys cur shilley er my vraar, my ven vraarey as m’inneen vraarey. T’ad cummal ayns arasane faggys da Droghad Lunnin as Margey Borough, agh t’ad smooinaghtyn er arraghey, as t’ad jeeaghyn er thieyn ayns Devon as ‘syn Chorn. T’ad goaill taitnys as shiaulley as by vie lhieu cummal faggys da’n cheayn.

Ansherbee, daag mee Bangor mysh leih oor lurg nuy as haink mee Lunnin mysh leih oor lurg munlaa. Hie mee dys my thie oast faggys da stashoon King’s Cross, as dys arasane my vraar ny yei shen. Dee shin kirbyl ayns shen – braddan, reise as sallaid – as haink mee ny quail rish m’inneen vraarey er yn chied cheayrt. T’ee queig meeghyn d’eash as t’ee eunyssagh.

I went to London yesterday to visit my brother, sister-in-law and niece. They live in a flat near London Bridge and Borough Market, but are thinking of moving, and are looking at houses in Devon and Cornwall. They enjoy sailing and would like to live near the sea.

Anyway, I left Bangor at about half nine and arrived in London at about half tweleve. I went to my hotel close to King’s Cross station, and to my brother’s flat after that. We ate lunch there – salmon, rice and salad – and I met my niece for the first time. She’s five months old and is delightful.

Sheshaght chiaullee corragh

Riyr ghow mee arrane ‘syn sheshaght chiaullee corragh. Phrow mee ynsaghey ny sleih elley m’arrane mychione foillanyn as spollagyn (Spollagyn son tey), as ghow shin arraneyn eigsoylagh elley. Ta shin cur cochiaull er arraneyn dy mie er enney, as ta shin lhiassaghey arraneyn jeh hene, as ta bun feeamyn ny focklyn gyn tort, ny cooishyn cadjin rish ny arraneyn shen.

Yesterday evening I sang in the crazy choir. I tried to teach the others my song about seagulls and chips (Chips for tea), and we sang various other songs. We add harmonies to well-known songs, and also make up songs, which are based on random sounds and words, or everyday events.

Have you been bangalored recently?

I listened to an interesting programme of BBC Radio 4 this morning in which there was discussion of some of the new words that have entered the English language recently. One such word is the verb to be bangalored, which is defined on WiseGeek as follows: “To be Bangalored is to be unceremoniously replaced when one’s job is sent overseas.” Bangalore (ಬೆಂಗಳೂರು), the capital of Karnataka State in southern India, is one of the centres of outsourcing.

Another example of a place name being used like this is the expression ‘to be shanghaied’, which Wikipedia defines as ‘the practice of kidnapping men to serve as sailors by coercive techniques such as trickery, intimidation, or violence. Those engaged in this form of kidnapping were known as crimps.’ The verb ‘to shanghai’ was used from the 1850s and was a result of Shanghai being a common destination for ships with shanghaied crews.

On the programme they commented that there aren’t many place names that are used in this way. Can you think of any others, in English or other languages?

If your home town / current place of residence were to be used as a verb, what kind of action might it describe?

What could ‘to bangor’ or ‘to be bangored’ mean, I wonder? The latter might refer to the state one achieves after imbibing too many intoxicating beverages – e.g. he was completed bangored last night.

I will be londoning (visiting London) this weekend, and then rebangoring (returning to Bangor).

Les mots de la semaine

français English Cymraeg Brezhoneg
l’allée (f) aisle (in a church or theatre) ystlys; eil ale
le couloir aisle (on plane, train or bus); corridor eil; coridor trepas
le moteur à réaction jet engine peiriant/motor jet
la fatigue due au décalage horaire jet lag jetludded skuizh dale-eur (?)
souffrir du décalage horaire to be jet-lagged bod yn jetludded gouzañv skuizh dale-eur (?)
la vérité finit toujours par se savoir the truth will out fe ddaw’r gwir i’r golau; taer yw’r gwir am y golau
s’en sortir très bien to come up smelling of roses
à fourrure furry (covered with fur) blewog blevenneg
poilu(e) furry (tail, body) blewog blevenneg
en peluche furry (toy) ffyrraidd grognonet
se retirer son permis de conduire to be disqualified from driving gwahardd rhywun rhag gyrru
être casse-pieds / emmerdant to be a pain in the neck bod yn bigyn yn dy glust di bezañ torr-penn
vitalité vitality bywiogrwydd; sioncrwydd buhezegezh
la veuve widow gweddw intañvez
le veuf widower gwr gweddw intañv
le boudin noir black pudding pwdin gwaed gwadegenn

Cavaquinho

Cavaquinho

Va sheshoon kiaullee mie ayns my hie fastyr jea. Cha daink agh nane fer elley, as chloie shin carryn Erinagh, son y chooid smoo, er y feddan stainnagh, er y feddan ishil, er y gitar as er y conserteen. Chloie mysh my cavaquinho noa (sorçh jeh gitar beg voish yn Phortiugal) chammah. Chionnee mee strengyn noa er e hon yn çhiaghtyn shoh, er yn oyr dy row strengyn neugheyr er tra hooar mee eh as chaill eh y carr dy mennick. Nish t’eh tannaghtyn lesh y carr, fo ny harrish. Foddee by char dou ynsaghey cloie carryn son cavaquinho voish yn Phortiugal nish.

There was a music session in my place this afternoon. Only one other person turned up, and we mainly played tunes from Ireland on the tin whistle, the low whistle, the guitar and the concertina. I also played my new cavaquinho (a kind of baby guitar from Portugal). I bought new strings for it this week because it had not very good strings on it when I got it and went out of tune all the time. Now it stays in tune, more or less. Maybe I should learn to play a few tunes for cavaquinho from Portugal now.

Markiaght aashag

Hannee daa markiaghyn aashag marym riyr – nane voish yn Chanadey as nane voish yn Pholynn. V’ad tannaghtyn ayns Cardiff as reih ad çheet neese dys Twoaie Vretyn Veg dys drappal sleityn. Hie shin er yn ordaag dys Pen-y-Pass jea, ghrapp ad Snowdon, as hie ad dys Bangor er yn ordaag ny yei shen. Haink ad dhys my thie slane anmagh er yn oie riyr, as ren shin coloayrt rish foddey dy hraa. Moghrey jiu dirree ad slane anmagh as er yn oyr dy vel yn emshir goll ny s’fliugheyder as ny s’feayrey, as cha row drappal sleityn fo’n fliaghey cur taitnys daue, reih ad goll er ash dys Cardiff trooid Aberystwyth.

Two couchsurfers stayed with me last night – one from Canada and one from Poland. They were staying in Cardiff and decided to come to North Wales to climb some mountains. They hitch-hiked to Pen-y-Pass yesterday, climbed Snowdon, and then hitch-hiked to Bangor. They arrived at my place quite late yesterday evening and we chatted for quite a while. This morning they got up quite late, and because the weather is becoming wetter and colder and they didn’t fancy climbing mountains in the rain, they decided to go back to Cardiff via Aberystwyth.

How does my language sound to you?

Yesterday I learnt that to Polish speakers Czech can sound cute, as quite a few Czech words sound like diminutives in Polish. For example cat is kot in Polish and kočka in Czech. Polish diminutives of kot are kotka and kociątko. A Czech diminutive of kočka is koťátko.

What do closely related languages or varieties of your language sound like to you?

Do any of them sound cute like Czech to Polish speakers?

How does Polish sound to Czech speakers?