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Written by: Dafydd Hughes

Category: Cyffredinol - General

Published: 29 January 2011

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How Cwrs Cymraeg Can Visit You

Every summer, Cymdeithas Madog sponsors its week long Cwrs Cymraeg in a different location - normally in North America. We are actively seeking potential local organizers for future years and the time to start planning is now!

Our highly successful courses are the fruit of a close working relationship between two essential teams: The Cymdeithas Madog board and the local organizing committee. Cymdeithas Madog provides resources, guidance and start-up funds and handles such things as teacher selection. However, we depend on a local organizing team at the course site to negotiate arrangements with the host institution, and to coordinate room and board, classroom space, teaching resources and local transportation for our teachers and students.

Initial checklist and questions

This may seem like an overwhelming task, but the following short list of questions will give you a place to start:

1. Who is on your team? Are there keen individuals who are interested in promoting the Welsh language; or have strong organizing abilities:
2. Can you think of potential venues for the course? Some questions to ask in a preliminary phone call to the college, university or conference centre are these: - Do you have space for approximately seventy course attendees; 6 classrooms; a meeting room for the whole group and residence accommodation nearby?
3. What is your daily meal plan, or meals and accommodation?
4. Do you have availability in the third or fourth week of July, from Sunday to Saturday night?
5. Are there other specifics/considerations about your facility that we should bring to the attention of Cymdeithas Madog’s board?

The Venues committee will be happy to work with you on submitting a proposal, if you can gather those facts.

The mission of Cymdeithas Madog is to give as many people as possible, in as many regions as possible, the chance to learn yr hen iaith ("the old language"). Our collaboration with resourceful and hard-working local organizers over the years has allowed us to fulfill this mission with outstanding success. However, this partnership also serves to give a boost to the Welsh spirit of the host communities. The courses last only a week but their local impact can be long lasting. Often, after Cymdeithas Madog moves on, the Welsh learners in the area where the course was held start up a local class and continue studying. In this way, Cwrs Cymraeg blossoms into many Cyrsiau Cymraeg - a multitude of Welsh courses.

If you would like to see the Cwrs come to your area, please talk to your local Welsh Society, college or university about co-sponsoring a course with us. Then get in touch with our secretary who will gladly provide more details on how to become a Cwrs Cymraeg local organizer.

We're eager to hear from you and the sooner the better - please!

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Written by: John Otley

Category: Cyffredinol - General

Published: 04 February 2011

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From an Acorn Comes the Oak: The Roots of Cymdeithas Madog

gan/by Sian Thomas

It must have been early in 1977 that Wyn Evans, then-minister of Dewi Sant United Church, Toronto, phoned to tell me that someone was organizing a Welsh course, and he expected me to sign up. I don't recall being given any choice in the matter. God works in mysterious ways. . . .

Poultney, Vermont came into my life like the bells of Cantre Gwaelod, ringing in the sea. Stories took shape of Welsh quarrymen of the last century imported--lock, stock, and families--to work the slate quarries. Ah, the romance! Now, in the dying embers of America's Bicentennial, the good people of Poultney had committed themselves to one last Bash--a Welsh course in celebration of their past.

Staff of Green Mountain College worked with Ann Cowie, a Welshwoman living in Baltimore, and the idea became reality. John Albert Evans, a well-known teacher of Welsh to adults, was brought over from Wales and Maldwyn Pate, a Welsh dancer working in New York, was signed on as back up. Publicity was circulated to all Welsh societies, and people like Wyn Evans all around North America took it from there!

What a gamble! Students showed up for that first-ever North American intensive course--enough for two classes. Most of us were rank beginners; anyone who had so much as heard the language before got slotted into the advanced class!

We sweated and we slaved. Half the problems arose, not so much from vocabulary and grammar, but from cultural differences. "Please, John. How do you say I've got a book?" "Mae gen i lyfyr." "But, John, that's - There's a book with me. How do I say, got?" Or when John would wheel suddenly on one of us Canadians screaming, "Quick, in your second language, what's *horse*?" And, being well-programmed Canadians, we replied, "Cheval." Miles away, Trudeau had goose bumps of joy.

OK. So the learning curve was steep for both teachers and students. But, oh, we didn't half laugh!!!

There was a bar in the village--I hope it's still there--and we went there to sing, relax, and use our Welsh every night. The first night, a generously proportioned young man was sitting at the bar in baseball cap and T-shirt. We started singing in Welsh. He leapt from his barstool and ran out the door, much to our shock. (Could we be that bad?) Twenty minutes later he burst through the doors followed by a man obviously his father wearing baseball cap and Cymru-Am-Byth T-shirt. Pops had been in the area's Male Voice Choir when it disbanded some decades earlier, and he stuck to us like glue throughout the week, sometimes in tears.

In this village, where the Language had slowly disappeared into the mist over the last century, small children still called old ladies, "Nain" as a mark of respect. One hot afternoon, many of us walked out to an even smaller village on the outskirts of Poultney to a small museum in an old chapel. There we saw Eisteddfod ribbons from 100 years since, all in Welsh. By the turn of the century, their inscriptions were bilingual. In 1977, there was no Eisteddfod at all. History in the making. This was the Course's heritage. Perhaps we did our bit to make it a living tradition once again. The Noson Lawen on the final night was open to the village. They laughed as heartily as the students did when I "got" John Albert Evans with a can of ReadiWhip in our sketch. (Oddly, John didn't. . . .) They listened as astutely as the renowned ethnomusicologist Phyllis Kinney lectured on Welsh folk music. They danced with us when Alexander Hamilton, an advanced student, played his accordion. And they all stood with us as we sang three national anthems to end the evening.

That week saw a rebirth, not just for Poultney, but for the Welsh language in North America, I do believe. Within weeks, five of us were in touch by telephone, discussing our hopes for continuing the work. Within months, Cymdeithas Madog was formed, and the future looked secure for a course in Lewisburg, Pennsylvania, in 1978.

Did we know where it would all lead? Probably not. Annual courses across the continent, local study groups, newsletters, scholarships, cultural grants - how could we have foreseen all this? The fact that Cymdeithas Madog is now a recognized institution on both sides of the Atlantic is testimony to all the volunteers, all the students, all the teachers who have contributed their own strengths since 1977. "Y fesen yn dderwen a ddaw." says the old Welsh proverb.

So, when Cantre Gwaelod's bells sing out this year, be there. Listen. Learn. Enjoy. And, as you return to your homes, start thinking how you too can play your part in making history.

Fel iar yn cario brechdan.

Like a chicken carrying a sandwich.

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Written by: John Otley

Category: Cyffredinol - General

Published: 04 February 2011

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Cwrs Cymraeg Bro Boston, 1989

On Sunday, July 30, 1989, about 100 students of all ages (well, from age 6 to 86 or so) gathered on the pleasant campus of the Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge, Massachusetts to start our thirteenth Cwrs Cymraeg. Two of those attending, Tom Reilly of New York and Larry Williams of Baltimore, had been to every one but the first, rounding out a substantial dozen. In all, students came from over 20 states and 2 Canadian provinces.

Our classrooms, luckily, were air-conditioned. Our sleeping quarters were not. But we managed very well, for the activities of each day brought a benevolent fatigue conducive to gentle sluber on confortable beds. We were treated very well by the staff in the dining room, who served good food with a smile.

There seemed to be an especially good spirit - ysbryd - this year, marked by harmony and lack of tension. There was plenty of work, almost too much, but it was no arduous chore to tackle it. Our teachers are a special breed - a happy breed who like their work. It was my own good fortune to be yn nosbarth Robert Owen Jones, and I learned many new things, revived some dormant knowledge and recharged the batteries of Cymric enthusiasm. I also marvelled at the talent of the young students who had not been studying Welsh very long, but had learned a lot. Professor Jones gave evidence of possessing a vast store of knowledge and wisdom, and we were fortunate to have contact with him every day, even for a brief week.

It was a pleasure to have Nesta Jones, Robert Owen's wife, on the teaching staff. In addition to her work in the dosbarth, she conducted an afternoon workshop for a reading group. We were also delighted by the presence of three of the Jones children, Lowri, Luned and Dafydd; two others, of university age, were away.

Cefin Campbell, in addition to all his other commitments, was the lead teacher of the course, and he was a very capable and efficient one. His pedagogical skill is something I have long admired.

In choosing an afternoon workshop to attend, I was faced with an embarassment of riches, for all were tempting: drama, penillion singing, papur bro, linguistics, etc., etc. But I chose Hefina Phillips' advanced reading group and am happy to have done so. Hefina can read complicated literature at several levels almost instinctively, revealing to her students the art of a creative author and, in her close reading, underlining the marks of his or her genius. She is priceless.

Our teachers were doubtless overworked. They gave us more in a week than some professors I have known dispense in a term. Robert Owen Jones, for instance, in addition to the daily class and afternoon workshops, gave a fascinating lecture on the Welsh language and culture in Patagonia, based on his successive stays there. He also participated in the gwasanaeth, our chapel service on Sunday.

Delyth Campbell, wife of Cefin, was another asset to our teaching staff and contributed an interesting lecture on Welsh courting customs to the dosbarth ar y cyd, as well as gracing many of the events of the week, including the panel discussion on Wales - a sobering occasion to those concerned about the language.

Greville James, a man whose versatilitiy knows no bounds, had, besides his class, more functions than one can reasonably expect from one person. He was the skilled "caller" at the twmpath dawns; he spoke effectively on the Welsh folktale at the dosbarth ar y cyd; and he was an incomparable master of ceremonies at the eisteddfod.

Another participant of tremendous versatility was the Rev. Gwyn Walters, who led a mini-cymanfa ganu on the first night (on which occasion the Harvard University Celtic Department gave us a hospitable reception). His dosbarthiadau were conducted with great skill and care; I know this from my wife Angela, who was in his class. His lecture on types of Welsh preaching, together with a demonstration of the hwyl, was a classic. He also added instrumental music, as he did at the eisteddfod and on other occasiona. On bore Sul he preached a sermon and directed some of our singing when we showed we were in dire need of direction.

Paul Birt of Hull, Quebec, of whom I unfortunately saw all too little, proved to be a fluent speaker of Welsh and several other languages. His interesting experiences in Poland were alluded to, as well as the increadible revallation that certain courses of study at Lublin University require the Welsh language. Past President Alun Hughes, well-known for years of service to Cymdeithas Madog (like Tom Reilly and Larry Williams, this was his twelfth course), was in charge of astudio preifat. Dic Driver and Marta Weingartner had the important role of teaching assistants.

An optional event was the harp concert by Robin Huw Bowen on the Tuesday. Almost everyone elected to attend, and all were glad they did. Robin is an outstanding master of the triple harp. He enlightened us on the nature of the instrument (on the hottest night of the week), and he played music of various centures. The medieval selections were captivating, although the applause indicated that "Clychau Aberdyfi" was the audience's favourite; I found "Morfa Rhuddlan" especially good.

I must mention the boat trip around Boston Harbor. It was a delight, but we froze until we warmed up in song. The next day, keeping to the theme of boats on a smaller scale, we had a presentation of the history of the coracle, together with discussions of its construction. After an enlightening discourse replete with "coracology," coracle-maker George O'Bryan of Stony Bottom, West Virginia and Rod Bowen, one of the Cwrs organizers, invited intrepid students to try a hands-on approach on the Charles River. Several did so, and nobody fell into the water, as far as I could see. (These coracles can be bought, incidentally.)

Leaving out many of the myriad details of a great week, I must say a word or two in praise of Leslie Evans, the chief organizer. A top-flight artist in her own right, she showed that she is also an able administrator. She contributed the lino's - or dragon's - share to running the course and making things work smoothly. They surely did.