Celtic Cousins – Part Two

Last month I made some observations regarding the Welsh and the Scots, cousins within the Celtic nations, who share similarities but also demonstrate differences.

I have more to add!

I bumped into a number of kilted Scots walking to Llandaff Railway station on the Saturday morning, of THE GAME between Wales and Scotland as they were clearly going to catch the train into the city centre.

Nothing surprising about that you may think. But they were with an equal number of locals, wearing more red items than they would normally put on all at the same time. All clearly with a common purpose, sharing jokes, laughing and generally messing about. Morning of the match. A magical time, equal amounts of worry and excitement. On both sides.

Will the good humour last the day? Yes, it will. Does it matter who wins? It does, but not so much for the Wales v Scotland or the Scotland v Wales games. Maybe winning is more critical for the other games in the Six Nations Internationals?

Frequently mentioned to me when we lived in Edinburgh was the tearful joy of the Scots when the Welsh sang Flower of Scotland full-pelt and full-hwyl at Murrayfeld.

by Sara John

Welsh voices singing it as it had never been sung before.

A number of people confded in me that they went as much for the singing as for the game. Multiply that a few times for the games in the Principality Stadium.

I know and clearly remembered what it sounded like. I have been there and I witnessed it frst hand.

It went like this, frst the Welsh anthem, none of the Scots join in, they just listen to the music and language of heaven. Then, to the visible surprise of the Scots, some of whom may be at Murrayfeld for the frst time, the lone piper up on the roof of the stadium (the Scots, especially in Edinburgh, do nothing by halves) plays the frst few bars of “Flower” and the Welsh are away with the angels again. The frst time I was there, I noticed the Scots standing nearest to us with tears running down their faces totally unable to sing their own anthem, Flower of Scotland, because of the sounds of the choir of twenty to thirty thousand I recall years ago when Bill McLaren was commentating after the Welsh Anthem was sung with great gusto and total conviction saying, “They must have been able to hear that in Treorchy!”

Apart from a serious regard for education, the written word, honesty, fair play, poetry, storytelling, an enduring respect for the past and as Robbie Burns wrote, recognising that, ‘a Man’s a Man for al’ that’, we share much else.

Both the Welsh and the Scots have their own distinctive language and speech patterns.

Perhaps the Welsh are fonder of using twenty words when one word would have suffced? The Welsh also repeat information in a slightly different form just in case the frst transmission failed. This is said by some scholars to be ‘leftover’ from the early Medieval period when Norman French was gradually replacing, merging, and taking over (there you are - I’m doing it now) from Saxon and early English.

Some might comment that the Welsh are well known for voluble speech: speech that is musical, fuid, loquacious.

A close relative comes to mind, a man of fewer words than I. Sometimes it is just the one word, “long-winded”, and a brief reminder that, yet again I had gone off at a tangent.

On the other side of the Welsh border if you get on a bus or train it is accepted behaviour that you sit as far away as possible from any other passengers.

In Wales, you are expected to do the exact opposite. If you cannot bring yourself to sit next to a solitary occupant, you sit in front of them and swivel round to start a conversation. It is expected. And welcome.

Although my husband and his walking companion boarded an almost empty bus in Haverfordwest, Pembrokeshire and enquired of the only other, elderly, passenger if the bus was going to Tenby? “No, No, No,” came the reply, “I don’t know, I never go further than this next stop.” who had been the topic of their whispered conversation, claimed that her family were related to that of Bonnie Prince Charlie. We muffed our laughter.

Sitting, some years ago, in a single-decker, busy bus going to the Centre of Edinburgh there were two very Edinburgh ladies sitting behind us. As the bus slowed down to a stop, one lady, prior to her departure, confded to her friend that, Elspeth, Country bus conversations in Wales always need an ‘opener’. Here are a few of the more popular ones if you ever need to use them;

“Going far then?”

“I thought for a minute that you were Muriel Williams Ty Bach from school”

“That was bad news about Dai Top Field wasn’t it?”

“I heard sugar is going back on ration”

“Isn’t awful for those people in Cwmgwyn”

Once you have made a start do not be surprised if, at the next stop, another passenger boards the bus and joins in the conversation. The same thing can easily happen at a bus stop, then a group conversation will emerge.

In Welsh answers will always be long-winded.

Answer; Oh yes please I’d love a cup of tea, nothing to eat mind, I had a good lunch, well, good for me, I often skip lunch altogether see, I always cook in the evening though but sometimes, if Geraint is working late, it’s goodness knows what time…………

In contrast in Scotland, I overheard two men talking in a bookshop in Edinburgh obviously meeting up after a length of time.

Question; How is your father?

Answer; Still dead. (Pronounced ‘Deid’)

Articles in the Scottish press nowadays tell of many Scots signing up to learn Gaelic. There are far more opportunities for children to learn it as part of their general education than even a decade ago. A recent headline in the Sunday Times said that, ‘Primary School success revives the future of Gaelic. This year 400 pupils have joined the Primary One intake at Gaelic medium units where higher levels of attainment have impressed parents’.

In conversation with a Highlander and Gaelic speaker, I was corrected when I asked about the percentages of Gaelic speakers. He explained you do NOT speak Gaelic. You HAVE the Gaelic. Or not. But recognising that I was unfamiliar with the language he quickly added that, “However, I would describe the language as a shadowy concept.”

He reminded me that many English words were having to be utilised within Gaelic to keep pace with technology and so on. He gave a surprising example; there was no word in Gaelic for bath. There are still no secrets in Wales.

Everyone is related through kinship, birthplace, marriage, chapel, workplace, school, college, university, street or village, choir, football, rugby, and evening classes. Layers and layers of networks. Information is the only currency that matters. Information needs a germ of truth but not too much. Giving away no names but plenty of clues.

It is generally accepted that personal affairs, private information, condition of your health, state of your marriage (or anybody else’s), decisions about relationships within your family and so on should be in the public domain and everyone else should have a point of view on each topic. Professional expertise, medical, religious, psychological, legal or fnancial is seldom sought or regarded.

Of course, most Welsh people (nowadays including as many women as men) consider themselves to be very knowledgeable team selectors and tacticians for important rugby games.

In Scotland and with the Scots themselves the TRUTH is very important.

Scots are discomforted by there being four gospels with three telling differing versions of the same story.

In Wales, the truth is more of a kaleidoscope of opinion, an overture to an opera introducing disparate themes, including mystical legends and shadows at dusk seen in a walk in the forest.

The Welsh were relieved to hear about the copy of St.Thomas’ Gospel among the Dead Sea Scrolls. There is never just four versions in Wales of any story.

Lloyd George, accused of telling fbs in the House, replied that what he had said “had been true at the time”. The Welsh are often disappointed with only one version of the truth.

In Scotland Truth and Godliness go together. They tell it like it is and if that offends then too bad.

Living in Wales with a Scots-born husband I frequently feared he would fnd himself in trouble for being too outspoken. The worst happened to him when he was sent off by the referee at a football match. He was not playing. He was a spectator.

A popular epitaph in Scottish cemeteries must surely be, ‘He Woudna Tak Tellin’. (“He would not take telling”).

When asked why he came to Wales, husband would often add, “I came to add another surname, I understand there is a serious shortage of surnames in Wales.”

I have explained many times that although we are a little short on surnames, everyone has one, even if it is the same as the man living next door. And, AND, we have other names; pet names, familiar names, and true baptismal names. Many people have Bardic names, stage names, occupational names, patronymic names or names of references to places of birth or residence. This is all to confuse the enemy and identify who you are in the community.

In Scotland (in particular the Highlands and Islands) there was and still is a romantic, rigid, unique Clan system. Sharing the Clan name as your surname, defnes who you are. Mc or Mac as a prefx means ‘Son of’. The culture is more patriarchal than Wales, you will often hear the words, “I knew his father,” as a recommendation for a young man. The Welsh and the Scots are both noted for their hospitality, concern for others, helpfulness to strangers. The cleanliness of their homes and guest houses and their generous, if sometimes not too adventurous catering, are all welcomed by visitors.

The Welsh, I am afraid have to go further and I must add something about the D.W.Q. which stands for The Direct Welsh Question.

Frequently asked of newcomers, travellers, visitors (even next door’s visitors), it adds to the valuable currency called information.

The DWQ must be gently put, it has to sound totally inoffensive, the Welsh ‘question-asker’ will probably put her head slightly on one side and look a little concerned. Glancing from the Lady to the Gentleman who are being scrutinised, and back again. The local (and on behalf of the entire community) questioner might say,

Question (the Direct Welsh version) “Married, are you?”

Answer (with a slight whiff of shock) “Oh yes”

Question (barbed and deadly) “Happy are you?”

So there you have it.

Two different histories, cultures, and developments but a close band between the two Celtic nations. Where else can we see two rival sets of supporters sharing their experiences, and spending time with each other afterwards despite the result of a rugby match? ‘Apres Match’ extends the event even further, and there is always plenty of singing.

All too soon it is travel back home time.

Time for farewells.

“See you next year if that is alright with you?”

“You will be most welcome in Edinburgh, as usual! Oh! by the way, do not forget to bring lots of Welshcakes!!”