My Cornish World: Grand Bard Pol Hodge

M Y CORNISH WORLD M Y CORNISH WORLD

Iwas born in Redruth, but I grew up in Troon, which was part of Camborne. In their mining heyday, the two towns worked quite separately, Camborne importing and exporting through the port at Hayle, Redruth through Portreath. Some people still take the rivalry between Redruth and Camborne quite seriously (never more so than during the Boxing Day rugby match). This spills into the heritage: Camborne has Bewnans Meriasek (The Life of St Meriadoc), while Redruth has Cornish archives centre Kresen Kernow; Camborne has inventor Richard Trevithick, Redruth William Murdoch.

When I was at school in the ‘80s, there were no university facilities in Cornwall. If you did well at A level, you had to move away to continue your studies. I went to London to study chemical engineering, and felt incredibly homesick. An Irishman told me I wasn’t a proper Celt because I didn’t speak my native language, and led me to a Cornish language course which opened the door to the Cornish community in London – people who had left Cornwall but taken their Cornish identity with them.

Disillusioned with chemical engineering, I retrained and returned to Cornwall to teach science. I lived in Liskeard, where there were a lot of great Cornish speakers. We enjoyed Yeth an Werin in the Stag Inn - informal gatherings where the only rule was “no English spoken”.

Being made a Bard is the greatest honour Cornwall can give you. My turn came in 1991, in Tregarrek (Roche). My Bardic name is Mab Stenek Veur, which means Great Tin Ground. I see that as being the Great Flat Lode, which stretches from Wheal Grenville at Troon to bits of Redruth. It’s a huge area, and a Unesco World Heritage Site now.

I was made Bardh Meur (Grand Bard) at Bude Gorsedh 2021. I see the role as helping to support the people working behind the scenes – for example, administering our fantastic award scheme, which shines a spotlight on Cornish culture - not just language but also dialect, music and art - and recognising research in areas such as archaeology, history and geology. Then there’s deciding which brilliant people will be Barded this year, and which to keep an eye on for the future.

Our current plans are largely about recovery. The pandemic has forced real challenges upon us, and has seen a rapid evolution in how we deliver things. We intend to support Cornwall’s bid for City of Culture 2025, and it’s good to see other locations with Celtic roots on the shortlist: Stirling in Scotland, Wrexham in Wales and Armagh City in Northern Ireland. I’d also like to reconnect with other Celtic nations, such as Wales and Brittany. In the past, we’ve sent representatives to each other’s events; emailing and Zooming is fine, but you can’t beat physical contact.

It’s good to take stock and celebrate how much we have achieved. When I did my teacher training, I enrolled on a correspondence course in Kernewek; I used to receive cassette tapes through the post, and wasn’t expected to submit any work back. That seems crazy when you look at today’s language learning apps and interactive chat rooms. There’s an online dictionary where you can look up the word you need and hear it pronounced. The Academy Kernewek gets a list of searches with no returns and will either upload an existing word or discuss the need for one. That said, it’s surprising how many Cornish words are out there – for example, if an animal was mentioned in the Bible, it will feature in Cornish in the 14th century mystery play Origo Mundi (Origin of the World).

As Grand Bard, I’m seeing a number of bards who, like me, left Cornwall to study. Because they embarked upon careers, met partners and had children, their lives became established elsewhere in the UK or even overseas. They have the same feeling of “hireth”, or longing for home, that I did; thankfully, we now have Teams, Zoom and easy car travel.

March 5 is St Piran’s Day. I live in the parish of Perranzabuloe, where St Piran arrived by sea from Ireland, on a millstone. His oratory is the oldest Christian building in the UK, no ifs or buts, and it was saved thanks to the hard work of the St Piran Trust. In the past, I have dressed as St Piran for reenactments around March 5. Last year, celebrations moved online due to the pandemic, and my wife and I walked to the oratory to lay daffodils. It’s hard to predict where we’ll be in 2022. I would ask everyone to attend an event if possible, whether that be in Truro, Launceston, Bodmin, Newquay or Penzance; celebrate online; or simply wish someone a Gool Perran Lowen and raise a toast to the saint. Just don’t get drunk as a Perraner and fall down a well. l