Cwrs Cymraeg Waukesha, 1992

The words of lead teacher Clive Rowlands say it all. ‘Arbennig iawn’ is how he described Cwrs Cymraeg Waukesha, which took place at Carroll College from July 25 to August 2, 1992.

It was indeed a ‘very special’ course, and not just because it provided an additional seventh day of teaching compared to previous courses. The facilities were excellent, the organization was smooth-running, the students (over 60 of them from all over North America) were enthusiastic, the quality of instruction was top-class, and the atmosphere was warm and friendly.

The course began on the Saturday, with an evening wine-and-cheese reception. Teaching began at 8:30 the following morning and continued with breaks for coffee and lunch through until 2:15. This was to be the pattern each day, with the remainder of most afternoons devoted to a dosbarth-ar-y-cyd (joint class) and a choice of language-related activities.

Accompanying Clive Rowlands were two other teachers from Wales, Alun Ifans and Ken Kane. Though both were new to Cwrs Cymraeg, they took to it like ducks to water and were instant hits. Whether it was Alun’s manic enthusiasm (in leading the folk dancing) or Ken’s idiosyncratic sense of humour (when he lectured on Welsh place names), they ensured that there was never a dull moment.

The faculty included one other newcomer, Mair Wyn Jones from Ontario, who had earlier taught on the Oakville short course in March, and whose piano skills proved invaluable throughout the week. The other teachers were veterans Paul Birt, Alun Hughes, and Hefina Phillips.

Between them, the teachers provided instruction for all levels of learner, with emphasis on the spoken language. There was also a special class in advanced language skills — reading, writing, listening, comprehension and grammar, as well as speaking — for the intermediate and higher levels taught by Alun Hughes.

The joint classes at mid-afternoon featured presentations by teachers and students on various aspects of Welsh language and culture, and the activitiy sessions that followed, each led by a different teacher, provided a choice between such diverse topics as Welsh music, basic grammar, the evoluation of the Welsh langauge, reading and preparing the course newspaper Wn i Ddim.

There was also a course choir, which practised diligently in the late afternoon under the capable direction of Geraint Wilkes, a member of the local organizing committee and a renowned tenor in his own right.

No Cwrs Cymraeg is complete without its extra-curricular activities, and Cwrs Cymraeg Waukesha was exceptional in this respect. Events kicked off on Sunday afternoon with a fascinating bus tour of historical Welsh sites in Waukesha County, including the village of Wales itself.

The remaining activities all took place in the evenings, and included Welsh-language videos, a boat trip on Lake Michigan, a twmpath dawns (folk dance), a treasure hunt, and a pub night in the Budweiser Pavilion at the State Fair Grounds, with refreshments courtesy of Anheuser-Busch. Pub night entertainment was provided by Geraint Wilkes, the Glen Ghillies music group, the Awel y Ddraig dance group directed by Beth Herbert, and — a special treat — an ‘alternative’ dance group made up of the male teachers.

The climax of the course, as always, was the noson lawen on Saturday night, culminating in the presentation of the chair to the winning bard. This year’s winner, and a very popular one, was Cheryl Mitchell from Washington. Winners of the competitions for intermediate and beginning students were Anne Smith and John Ellis respectively. The course closed on the Sunday morning with a worship servcie led by David Davis. The course is also the time when the board of Cymdeithas Madog holds its annual deliberations. At the Waukesha meetings, Hefina Phillips was elected President, Paul Birt Vice-President, Hugh Davis Treasurer, and John Otley Secretary. Bill Clarke and Evan Parker retired as directors, both after many years of service, and Marjorie Griffith and Loretta Close were elected to replace them.

That Cwrs Cymraeg Waukesha was such a success was due in no small part to JoAnne Simon and her team of local organizers, Russ Evans, Margaret Glasgwyn, Beth Simon and Geraint Wilkes. Thanks are due to these, and also to the British Council and the National Welsh-American Foundation for financial support.

Cwrs Cymraeg Ar Lan Y Niagara, 1991

According to the Buffalo News, if you had been in the vicinity of downtown D’Youville College during the summer of 1991, you would have heard people speaking a “strange musical tongue’ and saying things like ‘bora-dah,’ ‘sootmy?’ ‘de-on-di-awk,’ and ‘naw-sun-law-when.’ They don’t look very musical written like that (could you tell that the third one is ‘da iawn, diolch’?), but fair play (or ‘kwaray tayg’ as the News puts it), the paper was doing its best at the impossible task of representing one language in another, and it was certainly spot on about the musicality of the sounds.

Yes, for one week in 1991 a small part of Buffalo was transformed into a mini-Wales and was alive with the music of the Welsh language, as 67 students and 7 instructors came together for Cwrs Cymraeg ar Lan y Niagara, Cymdeithas Madog’s 15th annual Welsh-language course. Co-sponsored by the Buffalo St. David’s Society, the course was a resounding success and was acclaimed by regular attendees as one of the friendliest and smoothest run on record. That this was so is a tribute to the hard work and organizing skills of the local committee – Mary Ellen Palmer, Loretta Close, and Tom Edwards.

The course followed the proven pattern of language classes for most of the day, broken by a joint class (Dosbarth ar y Cyd) immediately after lunch, with social and cultural activities in the evening. The academic side of things was in the capable hands of Hevina Phillips of Oakville, and accompanying her were three teachers from Wales (Elwyn Hughes, Helen Prosser and Clive Rowlands), and three from North America (Paul Birt, Alun Hughes, and Marta Weingartner). Together, they provided classes for all learning levels form beginner to advanced, with the emphasis on speaking the language, as well as a special reading/writing class for intermediate students.

The Dosbarth ar y Cyd sessions included a panel discussion on Welsh issues featuring the teachers from Wales, a discourse on the Eisteddfod by Elwyn Hughes, a talk on Pantycelyn by Hefina Phillips, and fascinating presentations by two of the students on the course – John Otley on the Mabinogion, and Ann Triggle on Welsh postage stampls.

The evening activities were a chance to relax, to consolidate what had been learned during the day, and to enjoy various aspects of Welsh culture. Two Welsh-language films were shown (‘Nel’ and the highly acclaimed ‘O.M.,’ the story of O. M. Edwards), there was a Twmpath Dawns (folk dance) and games night, an evening of Canu yn y Tafarn (pub singing), a bus trip to Niagara Falls and a picnic on Grand Island, and on the final night of the course a banquet and highly entertaining Noson Lawen. The latter culminated in a hilarious take-off of the Gorsedd ceremony which had the bards performing and outrageous dance to the strains of ‘Shuffle off to Buffalo.

The bardic chair was awarded, for the third time in four years, to John Otley of Toronto for a poem entitled Rhaeadrau (Waterfalls). The final course event was the Sunday morning service led by the Rev. Jennifer Phillips of Boston.

Cwrs Cymraeg ar Lan y Niagara was a course to remember as one of the best.

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.

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.