Gun roinn-seòrsa – Duilleag 5

New Scottish Gaelic Conversation group in Minnesota

One of our forum members would like to see if there are other learners near Minneapolis, Minnesota also interested in learning and practicing Scottish Gaelic, so they have created a Meetup.com group.

These are “in-person” meetings rather than Skype meetings. Date/location information is shown on the group page.

Source: Fòram na Gàidhlig

Tadhail air Fòram na Gàidhlig – Naidheachdan / News

Apple a’ beachdachadh air oifis ùr fhosgladh ann an Carolina a Tuath a dh’aindeoin laghan san stàit a leigeas lethbhreith an aghaidh daoine LCDTE

Le Crìstean MacMhìcheil

Tha dithis oifigearan riaghaltais à Carolina a Tuath air a ràdh gu bheil Apple a’ beachdachadh air oifis corporra mòr fhosgladh anns an stàit – a dh’aindeoin laghan san stàit a leigeas lethbhreith an aghaidh coimhearsnachd LCDTE na stàite.

Leugh an còrr de “

Apple a’ beachdachadh air oifis ùr fhosgladh ann an Carolina a Tuath a dh’aindeoin laghan san stàit a leigeas lethbhreith an aghaidh daoine LCDTE

”

Ri fhaichinn ann an Inbhir Nis: soidhne ur tamailteach, ’s e cuis nàire buileach glan a th’ ann

Le Graisg

A-nochd, gu mì-fhortanach, tha agam ri litir sgrìobhadh dhan Daily Express. Chan urrainn dhomh a fuireach nam thosd, tha cuisean air fàs nas miosa buileach, fhios againn uile gu bheil airgead air a bhith a dhol dhan t-sitig le soidhnichean dà-chànanach ann an Inbhir Nis ach a-nis chan eil sgeul air Beurla idir. Chan eil ann leis an soidhne ur seo ach Gàidhlig agus Laideann . Cum Beurla Beò! – sgrìobh dhan na h-ùghdarrasan gun dail.

Tadhail air Gàidhlig – cha bhithinn às a h-aonais!

“A’ bualadh na druma airson BBC ALBA”

Le Dòmhnall Caimbeul

Bha mi aig Trooping the Colour ann an Lunnainn mar aoigh aig Oifis na h-Alba Disathairne. Chan eil e idir na chleachdadh dhomh a bhith a’ faighinn cuireadh gu leithid, ach chaidh mi ann agus fios agam gun robh Rùnaire na Stàite airson Alba air a bhith a’ coinneachadh le Àrd-Stiùiriche a’ BhBC tron t-seachdain. Bha feadhainn eile ann bho shaoghal craolaidh na h-Alba cuideachd, a bharrachd air ceannardan phoilitigeach, ghnìomhachasan agus iomairtean sòisealta. Cha do dh’fhairich mi ach blàths airson na Gàidhlig agus cha chuala mi ach faclan taiceil airson BBC ALBA bhon h-uile duine ris an do bhruidhinn mi. Arsa Rùnaire na Stàite airson Alba mu dheidhinn a’ choinneimh le Àrd-Stiùiriche a’ BhBC: “I was banging the drum for BBC ALBA”. Fhuair e deagh èisteachd agus chuala e moladh mòr airson na seanail agus na co-bhanntachd a tha air a cùlaibh.

Bha briathran blàth mun Ghàidhlig cuideachd sa Phàipear Ghil a chaidh fhoillseachadh air an 12mh den Chèitean.

Seo an t-àm ge-tà airson nan briathran a tha sin a thionndadh gu geallaidhean cruaidh.

Nuair a tha an t-seanail Cuimris a’ craoladh 8 uairean de phrògraman ùra sa Chuimris gach latha, agus an t-seanail Èireannach a’ craoladh 5 uairean de phrògraman ùra sa Ghaeilge gach latha, bheil e ceart gu bheil BBC ALBA a’ dèanamh a’ ghnothaich le nas lugha na 2 uair de phrògraman ùra Gàidhlig san latha?

Tha am BBC a’ dèanamh 10 uair gach seachdain airson na seanail Chuimreach, agus bhiodh e cothromach agus ceart nam faigheadh iad dòigh air an aon rud a dhèanamh dhan t-seanail Ghàidhlig. Bheireadh sin bunait dhan t-seanail nach eil aice an-dràsta. Agus thuigeadh daoine gu robh poileasaidh cothromach aig a’ BhBC airson craoladh san dà mhion-chànan, rud nach eil ann an-dràsta.

Seo a tha mi air a ràdh ris an dà riaghaltas agus ris a’ BhBC:

‘S e gnothach poileasaidh na Rìoghachd Aonaichte a tha ann an craoladh sa Chuimris agus sa Ghàidhlig, fon Chairt Eòrpach airson nam mion-chànanan;
Bu chòir co-ionannachd spèis a bhith mar bhunait air a’ phoileasaidh sin;
Bu chòir dhan dà riaghaltas dèanamh cinnteach gu bheil am poileasaidh sin ann an Cairt Ùr a’ BhBC, no anns na sgrìobhaidhean eile a bhios na chois;
Bu chòir na geallaidhean a tha am BBC a’ dèanamh airson craoladh sa Ghàidhlig agus sa Chuimris a bhith stèidhichte gu follaiseach air poileasaidh agus air prionnsabal co-ionannachd spèis, seach a bhith mar ghnothach pragmatach.

Mar a thuirt mi, tha luchd-poilitigs taiceil agus a’ faicinn ciall an iarrtais. Ach ‘s e an cunnart as motha gun tèid ceist maoin a’ BhBC airson craoladh Gàidhlig fhaicinn mar ghnothach beag airson am BBC ann an Alba a rèiteachadh. ‘S e ana-cheartas a bhios ann ma thèid craoladh Gàidhlig a chur ann am farpais le craoladh Beurla airson maoin ann an Alba, aig an dearbh àm ’s a tha am BBC a’ comharrachadh stòras gu sònraichte bhon mheadhan mar phoileasaidh corporra airson craoladh na Cuimris.

Tha e riatanach an-dràsta gun tog am barrachd dhaoine an guthan air a’ cheist seo, le litrichean gu Ard-Stiùiriche a’ BhBC, cathraiche Urras a’ BhBC, Rùnaire na Stàite agus Riaghaltas na h-Alba. Tha iad air fad a’ tuigsinn, ach tha ìmpidh a dhìth. Bidh sinn ag ràdh am barrachd mu dheidhinn ciamar as urrain dhuibh ar cuideachadh sna beagan làithean ri tighinn ach ma tha beachdan agaibh san eadar-ama chuirinn fàilte air cluinntinn bhuaibh air domhnall.caimbeul@mgalba.com

Tha mi a’ tuigsinn gu bheil airgead gann, ach ‘s e rud beag a tha ann an coimeas leis a’ chòrr. Tha co-ionnanachd spèis dhan Ghàidhlig riatanach agus tha gealladh chorporra a’ BhBC airson 10 uair de dheagh phrògraman Ghàidhlig san t-seachdain mar cheum dheatamach gus seirbheis nas coileanta agus nas seasmhach a ghleidheadh airson na Gàidhlig.

(Nota: bhiodh ar n-iarrtas a’ ciallachadh dùblachadh anns na prògraman a tha am BBC a’ dèanamh sa Ghàidhlig, agus thigeadh obraichean agus buannachdan eile an cois sin).

Gach dùrachd,

Dòmhnall

Tadhail air MG ALBA: Am Blog

DAIR A BHITHEAS MI ‘N ASAINT, IS LEÒDACH MI: A Tale of Two Iains PART 3

Le Droitseach

IAIN A DHÀ IAIN #2

Assynt is one of those areas which seems somehow to have escaped the academic eye. When it comes to the far north of Scotland, you can start in the south of Rosshire and work your way up, finding most dialects covered by a monograph or a dictionary or a collection of some kind. Only Assynt and Caithness –ironically the two areas which initially interested me because of my family connections- have been left unexamined. I am currently going through the Gaelic Linguictic Survey entries for south Caithness with a fine-toothed comb and finding some very interesting features, especially in comparison with neighbouring dialects. Houston, we have an isolate! Other than that, Caithness will prove a difficult one given the lack of supplementary poetry, song or vocabulary, despite the bonus of 126 specifically dialect entries in Dwelly!

Dual·chainnt Ghollaibh an Dwelly

A great bonus for areas not covered by monographs is the Survey of Irish Dialects’ entries for the Scottish section. From Loch Carrann (Lochcarron) up, the northern dialects are covered by the SID, Ternes’ volume on a’ Chomraich (Applecross), Wentworth’s astounding work in Geàrr·loch (Gairloch), the terrific little book on a’ Chòigeach(Coigeach) dialect by Domhall Uilleam Stiùbhart (Donald William Stewart) and co, the SID again in Assynt and Seumas Grannd’s coverage of MacKay Country with his delightful dictionary. On the east coast, we have Watson’s fascinating study of Easter Ross Gaelic and the rightly world-famous investigation into East Sutherland Gaelic by my friend of some 6 years now, Nancy Dorian. There’s a lot of great material to work from for potential revival purposes. But from the perspective of the revivalist, will that be enough? If not, what’s missing?

Kenneth Jackson’s insistence on local parentage for all informants involved in the Gaelic Linguistic Survey was a stroke of utter genius. It means that we have as complete and as reliable a picture as can possibly be imagined -in a Highlands now so dreadfully deprived of dialect speakers- of how native Gaels sounded. In terms of what they said, Jackson’s attitude to word geography left a lot to be desired. The subject appears to have been almost looked down upon because of the unpredictability of the results but for me this simply betrays the cloistered lifestyle of the über-academic. The fact of the matter is that for the person on the street, it is words and their variety that capture the imagination, rarely whether someone said /a/ or /ɛ/ or /əɣ/ or /əv/. I mean it’s great to possess this information and we should be mighty glad to have it as part of the picture but over and above that, no-one in their right mind gives a flying phoneme. My experience is that it is only people who have been shut away from the real world their entire lives in universities who believe these concerns to be remotely important. So while phonologists and phonemecists were fighting their fiddly little esoteric battles in the corridors of imagined power, we were losing dozens upon dozens upon dozens of precious words for things,which will never be regained. A-CHAOIDH.Bheil sibh ga mo thuigsinn? (Are you understanding me?) A-CHAOIDH! (EVER!).


SID Volume IV

I must admit, I adore listening to scholars discuss the finer points of lingistics; I could pass hours at it. In fact I have several friends -they know who they are!- whose knowledge astounds me and to whom I regularly go for all manner of advice, but c’ mon down to brass tacks with me folks, Scotland has been putting the cart squarely before the horse for the last 50 years at least. Since the rumblings of the revival began, we have bent over backwards to keep up with the Whittingtons, establishing a university, drafting all sorts of rules and regulations, insisting that railway station signs in the middle of Lothian are in Gaelic, putting quantity squarely before quality in terms of speakership, and leaving old people who didn’t come from Skye or the Western Isles, whose dialect didn’t “fit”,to quietly pop their clogs in ignominy while the hallowed, well-funded halls of esoteria buzz with essential activity. All of the above-mentioned things had their place, some of them a very large and important place in fact, but I can’t help thinking that while the bone was being polished to a sheen worthy of the British establishment, the marrow was yet being sucked out from within.

I’m getting to my point in these blogs by the way, don’t worry… I do have a solution, and it ain’t got sh*t to do with suits, side-partings and seminars. It’s irreverent, old-fashioned and very cheap. Read on.

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STILL YES: taigh ann an Asaint

Having scribbled away into my notebook for a good 15 minutes, I looked up at the sky. It was dimming down and if I didn’t want to be hitting Dornie in the dark and missing my dinner, I’d need to get moving. I scoured my brain for anything else that was said, pulling bits I’d forgotten from the beginning of the conversation with Iain back to mind and writing them down at the end. Iain had long since closed the door and got back to enjoying his Sunday rest as I turned the car around and set off.

His directions took me over a different road or two and I drove for what seemed like longer than it should have been before hitting a gentle brae between the moors with their scattered houses which scooped itself back out of a hollow to arrive at the house of Iain MacIllEathain (Iain MacLean). It was a neat-looking grey number, clearly kept in decent condition by its owner, with a nice garden round about, but nothing too fancy. The sea was visible from the road and the air was cool and laced with moisture. I went through the gate, imagining what Iain looked like, mindful as always of disturbing anyone unnanounced in these days of obsessive organisation.

Robh Iain aig an taigh?

I grew up with people coming in and out of the house completely unannounced. You wouldn’t know someone was visiting our place at Rubh’ Bàn(pale point), just north of Taigh na Bruaich (House of the Bank) until they were already upon you, in the door and practically with their arse in the seat waiting for their coffee before you had any idea they’d arrived. Nowadays, if you haven’t Booked someone in the Face, or Grammed them Instantly, or Snapped their Chat, you’re being exceedingly rude. Turn up without texting ahead? How very dare you!

I’m very rarely apprehensive in the Highlands, but this was Sunday, and Assynt was rather a religious neck of the woods not that long ago. I entered the porch, the front door being open, and saw a nimble grey-haired man in his 70s scampering up the stairs of the house. I chapped the glass panel in front of me before he could escape and he peered quizzically through the balustrade, trying to work out if he recognised me.

I stepped back from the porch, not wanting us to have to vye for space within it should he see fit to emerge. And so it was I met with Iain a Dhà (Iain #2).

Iain? He padded back down the stairs and loomed up to the glass with a pleasant if confused expression. Nach gabh sibh mo leisgeal (Won’t you accept my excuse ie excuse me). Thuirt Iain the Gate rium gum bu chòir dhomh tighinn gur faicinn (Iain the Gate said I should come and see you) I said as Iain tugged the front door open.

Ó Iain, tha mi tuigsinn (Oh Iain, I understand).

Thuirt e gur sibhse an duine as fheàrr air son Gàidhlig an àite (he said you were the best man for the Gaelic of the place ie local Gaelic).

Ó an duirt gu dearbh? says MacIllEathain, amused. Có às a tha u? (where are you from?)

Arra-Gháidheal (Argyll). Chaidh mo thogail shìos taobh Dhùn Omhann, ann an Taigh na Bruaich (I was brought up down Dunoon way, in Tighnabruaich).

Ó tha fhios ‘am (oh I know [what you mean]). Shìos an sin, seadh (Down there, yes). Bheil holiday agad an seo? (have you a holiday here?) There must not be that many Argyllmen randomly showing up on Iain’s doorstep these days.

Chan eil. Shiubhail mo mháir ‘s chaidh a tiodhlacamh an Gollaibh ‘s cha robh mi air son a dhol air ais a dh’obair anns an uair (No. My mother traveled ie passed away and was buried in Caithness and I didn’t want to go back to work immediately) ‘s mar sin, bha mi los feuchainn an robh duine sam bith thathast ann an Dùthaich MhicAoidh ‘s Asaint ‘s Sgireachd Ròis aig an robh Gàidhlig an àite (and so I was for seeing [lit. trying] if there was anyone left in MacKay Country, Assynt and Ross who had the local Gaelic).

Ó gu dearbh? (oh really?) Chan eil móran Ghàidhlig an seo a-nis (there’s not much Gaelic here now). Tha i air bàsachadh air fad ann an seo(She’s completely died here). It could bring a tear to a glass cabinet nevermind an eye, this story, heard as it is from one end of the mainland to the other. An ann à Barraigh a tha a’ Ghàidhlig ads’ (is it from Barra your Gaelic is?). That’s a reasonable assumption if you’re from Assynt as my dialect must sound a little outlandish.

Ha-ha, chan ann, ‘s e dual·chainnt an àit’ ás an táini’ mi ‘hé tha seo. Gáidhlig Arra-Gháidheil (no, it’s the dialect from where I come from this, Argyll Gaelic).

Seadh, ‘s e mac-samhladh de Ghàidhlig nan Eilean a th’ agad (Aye, it’s the exact match of the island Gaelic you’ve got). I’m chuffed enough with that, despite it being out by a good couple of miles… mac-samhladh… the likeness’ son; lovely to hear that expression used. Bha mi seòladh chun gu leòr de na h-Eileanan dair a bha mi sa Mherchant Navy (I was sailing to plenty of the islands when I was in the Merchant Navy).

Gu dearbh? (Indeed?) It suddenly hit me as always that I should check and make sure I wasn’t keeping Iain back from his normal activities. Bheil sibh trang an ceartair, robh sibh am beachd itheamh no gas, no a’ bheil cothram againn bruidhinn tacan? (Are you busy just now, were you intending on eating or anything, or have we an opportunity to speak a wee while?)

Ó tha. Ó, chan eil mi trang an-dràst’, chan eil (Oh yes. Oh I’m not busy just now, no). Result!

‘S e an rud a bh’ ann, bha mi ‘g iarraimh beagan cheistean a chur air muinntir an àite seo a thaobh ghnothaichean a theireamh sibh (The thing was, I wanted to put a few questions on the people from here in terms of things you would say).

Chan eil móran ann an Dwelly ás Asaint

Tha mi tuigsinn (I understand).

Bha mi feòraich de dh’Iain, dé theireamh sibh ri na corragan? (I was asking Iain, what would you say to the fingers?). An robh rann sònraichte ann an Asaint orra? (Was there a special verse in Assynt on them?) Iain MacIllEathain looks at me with complete recognition, as if he knows exactly what I mean:

Seadh, bha ainm ac’ air a h-uile corrag, ach chan eil fhios am·as dé na rainn a bh’ ac’ a-nis (Yes, they had a name on every finger, but I don’t know what the rhymes they had were now). Oh ye booger, I thought I had them there. Having gotten home and finally sat down with my notes to write this blog six months later after a hard winter trying to make ends meet, I have the opportunity to look up the Irish Dialect Survey and much to my disappointment, the finger names are not listed. It appears as if the people of Assynt referred to them as meòirean and to a single one as a miar, but there are only the following individual names for the fingers, the last two of which strike me as Beurlachas (Gaenglish): òrdag (little hammer), ____ (no entry), ____ (no entry), miar an fhàinn’(ring finger), miar beag (little finger).

Nis, na bh’ againn an Arra-Gháidheal, ‘s e seo (now what we had in Argyll was this): òrdag (little hammer), corragag (little finger), mealla-fada (long lump), mac an lùba (son of the pinkie), lùdag (pinkie). I had gotten this from Ràibeart Mac a’ Bhiocair (Robbie MacVicar), our last native speaker, and for all my lack of formal training have gone over it every time I’ve seen him since to make sure I’ve got the right version. Apart from a little vascillation over whether it’s lùdag or lùbag, I get the same thing every time, with very little prompting.

Ó, nis, lùbag, bha sin againn (oh, now, lùbag, we had that) Given my experience with Robbie, it’s interesting that Iain has said this word with a b rather than a d… ach chan eil cuimhn’ am·as air (but I don’t remember on)…

…air an fheamhainn sa mheadhan? (on the ones in the middle?) I added.

Chan eil, chan eil (I don’t, no.) Och chan eil feadhainn Ghàidhlig ann a-nis ann, chan eil (Oh there’s no Gaelic ones here whatsoever, no). Chaochail a’ chuid mhór aig an robh Gàidhlig (The biggest lot with Gaelic changed ie died).

Feumaidh gu robh gu leòr a Ghàidhlig ga bruidhinn bho cheann da fhichead bliana? (there must have been plenty of Gaelic spoken 20 years ago?) I venture, keen to find out more about the shift in Assynt.

Och seadh, tha cuimhn’ am·as air thoiseach, bha Gàidhlig ga bridhinn sa h-uile taigh (oh aye, I have a memory at the beginning [of Iain’s life], Gaelic was spoken in every house).

Sa h-uile taigh, seamh (in every house, yes). This is painfully familiar.

A-nis, chan eil gin den fheadhainn shuas Loch an Inbhir ach mi ‘hìn ‘s Iain a bhridhneas Gàidhlig, chan eil (Now there aren’t any up Lochinver but myself and Iain that speak Gaelic, no). Chan eil gin ann (There aren’t any).

“poca-salainn” ann an Asaint

Nise, ceist eile a chuir mi air Iain ach cha robh fhios aige·san (Now, another question I put on Iain but he didn’t know). Thuirt e nach do bhruidhinn e mun cuairt air a leithid bhon a bha e na bhalach! (He said that he hadn’t spoken about the like of it [in Gaelic] since he was a boy!). Dé theireamh sibhse san dùthaich seo ri spider?

Ó, after a moment’s thought,chanainn “poca-salainn”, ach chan eil mi glé chinnteach (Oh, I’d say poca-salainn [salt-bag], but I’m not quite certain). That’s the very boy though, the very boy!

Feumaidh gum bitheamh e car coltach ri sin (It must be that it would be fairly similar to that), bhon sin a th’ aca an Sgìreachd Ròis co-thiù (for that is what they had in Ross-shire anyway)… bhon a tha a thòin car geal (because his bum is somewhat white ie salty-looking).

Och seadh (oh yes). Gu dearbh feumaidh (indeed it must), sin a bhiodh an ùis co-dhiù (that’s what would be in use anyway). It seems just discussing it a little further has affirmed Iain’s conception of whether the word is right or not. Sometimes it’s dicy to speak further on it, in case an erroneous response is set in stone, but in this case Iain’s word was spontaneous without prompting and can be taken as representative of Assynt. A check with the SID entry and we get pocan-salainn, a diminutive version, and interestingly lacking pre-aspiration. Och, tha móran ann (oh there are lots) says Iain continuing on:

Na h-eòin bheag’ an sin; stonechat a chanas iad sa Bheurla. Nach e “clachair” a bh’ ac’ orr’? (The little birds there, “stonechat” they say in English, isn’t it clachairthey have on them?) If only I had a couple of days up here to get into all of this…

“clachair”

Och sna lathan air dol seachad, bha ainm ac’ air a h-uile dithean ‘s a h-uile biuthach (oh in the days gone by, they had a name on every flower and animal) I reminisce, as if I had been there. That makes Iain think of something amusing.

Rud a bha mi smaoineachadh air (a thing I was thinking on) he says, dé a’ Ghàidhlig a th’ ac’ air umbrella? (What’s their Gaelic for an umbrella?).

Sgàilean, cha chreib mi (Shade, I reckon), quoting the standard tongue. Iain nods, but is clearly in thought. The word doesn’t seem too familiar to him.

Tha beagan diofar eadar a’ Ghàidhlig ann an Leódhas agas Uibhist (there’s a bit of a difference between the Gaelic in Lewis and Uist) says Iain, gesticulating towards the sea as if to bring back to mind that there are islands out there to the west.

Ó tha, I agree, theirinn gu bheil a’ Ghàidhlig an seo (I’d say the Gaelic here), gu bheil i nas coltaiche ri Gàidhlig Leódhais na tha i ri na h-Eileanan eile ge-tà (that it’s a little more similar to Lewis Gaelic than it is to the other Isles). I’m keen to find out if Iain a Dhà thinks so too.

Ó tha gu dearbh, ó tha (oh yes indeed, oh it is), he replies. Tha i nas fhaisg’ air a’ Ghàidhlig a th’ ac’ an sin (It is closer to the Gaelic they have there). Ach na bha ‘d a’ bridhinn an seo, ‘s e seòrsa Gàidhlig eile bha sin (But what they were speaking here, it was a different kind of Gaelic). It’s lovely to hear that self-awareness, that distinctness acknowledged by someone who is still a source of it himself. Iain’s kind are on the way out on the mainland, and very, very few people seem to consider it loss enough to get off their backsides and put on the brakes. Native Gaelic in the Scottish mainland will be dead in 30 years. TOPS. Are we ready to admit that to ourselves? If it doesn’t hurt you to think of it, wake the heck up people.

Nise, dé bha sibhse ‘g ràdh ann an seo(Now, what were you saying here) air –mar a their ead anns a’ Bheurla- how are you? (on –as they say in English- “how are you?”) Dé a bh’ agaibh·se air sin? (What did you have on that?). I’m always curious about this one. We once produced a map here at DROITSEACH showing where the different phrases were used and I’m keen to settle a debate raised by someone who was sure that cionnas a tha u? was used all the way from Gairloch north.

Ó, “ciamar a tha u?” Iain says without hesitation.

“ciamar a tha u?”

“ciamar a tha u?”? I repeat, slightly surprised. Bhon, daoine shuas taobh Dhùthaich MhicAoidh, their ead “cionnas a tha u?” (Because, people up MacKay Country way, they say cionnas a tha u?) Ach ‘s e “ciamar” a bh’ agaibh ann an seo?(But it’s ciamar that you had here?)

Ó ‘s e (oh it was).

Agas ‘s e “ciamar” a bh’ aig ur pàrantan cuideachd? (And it’s ciamar that your parents had too?)

Ó gu dearbh, ‘s e (oh indeed, yes). That’s that one beyond any doubt.

Tha sibh ga mo thuigsinn a-nis, nach eil? (you’re understanding me now, aren’t you?). I often try to speak the dialect of the older generation if I’m with them to make sure I come over ok, but in this case I wasn’t too sure what the dialect of Assynt was like. Unlike the MacKay Country where I can converse quite freely in the local patois, here I thought while I’d better round out some obvious Dalriadisms, I may well just confuse matters by starting to make guesses about what might be more comprehensible. Sure, they’ll say caninstead of abair (say) and obvious northern things like that, but I didn’t want to go out on too weak a branch on a first visit.

Och tha, tha glé cheart a-nis (oh yes, just fine now). I’m off the hook!

Ach co-thiù, cha robh mi ach dol seachad(But anyway, I was but going past), tha mi dol sìos thun an Dòrnaidh a-nochd (I’m going down to the Dornie tonight).

Ó, an Dòrnaidh, tha mi tuigsinn (oh the Dornie, I understand).

Thuirt mi ri Iain, an ath uair a bhitheas mi dol seachad (I said to Iain, the next time I’m going past), thig sinn uile comhla ‘s bruidhnidh sinn beagan Gàidhlig (we’ll all come together and speak a little Gaelic).

Ó seadh, glé mhath, nì sinn sin ma-thà (Oh yes, very good, we’ll do that then). There’s no sense of imposition about this idea in Iain’s voice whatsoever, I can tell he’d be more than happy to sit with a cup of tea or a dram and blether in the old tongue. Uair sam bith a tha u dol seachad, trobhad a-staigh (anytime you’re going past, come on in). And once again. There it is!

Bithidh sin gasta ma-tà (that’ll be splendid then). I smile as we back away from the house, still chatting.

Tha fliuch! (It’s wet!) adds Iain, as we stand at the gate getting lightly spat on.

Tha, bha fliuch fad an t-Samhraimh (Yes, it was wet throughout the summer). Bha dona([It] was bad).

Ó gu dearbh, bha móran uisg’ ann (oh indeed, there was a lot of water ie rain). Bha sneachd ann cuideachd.(There was snow too). Cha do thiormaich am mòin’ a bh’ agam son an tein’ gu ceart (The peat I had for the fire didn’t dry out properly). Uisg’ uisg’ uisg’!(Rain rain rain!).

clàr-siùcair air son nan Gàidheal

Och seamh (oh aye), ‘s e dìle-bhàit’ a bh’ ann o cheann gu ceann na mìos, an July mar a their ead (there was a drowning flood from head to head of the month, in July, as they say). It is not common for dialect speakers to know the months of the Julian calendar, as it was not used until relatively recently. Nise, rud a th’ agam an seo (now, the thing I have here), reinn mo bhean beagan clàr-siùcair son na h-uile duin’ a chì mi shuas an seo (my wife made a little tablet for everyone I see up here).

Dé a th’ ann? (What is it?)

Tablet.

Ó glé mhath (oh very good).

Tha uarraidh milis (It’s awfully sweet).

Móran siùcair ann! (Much sugar in it!)

Dìreach (Exactly). Nise, tha mi dol a thogail dealbh bheag dhinn an seo leis an taigh (Now I’m going to lift a small picture of us here with the house). Bheil sin ceart gu leòr? (Is that alright?)

Och tha (oh yes).

Àdhamh Ó Broin agas Iain MacIllEathain ann an Asaint

Innsidh do mo chlann gun do thachair mi air Gáidheal, Iain MacIllEathain (I’ll tell my children that I met a Gael, Iain MacLean), shuas taobh Asaint (up Assynt way). The kids always like to hear that there are other people in other places who speak their language.

Ha-ha, sin agad e! (there you have it!).

And with that, I took my leave, feeling genuinely buoyed up by this encounter, but more sure than ever of what needed done. Seven months later and that feeling has only grown. Both Iains, despite the protestations of Iain #1 to the contrary, were very fluent. Coupled with the vocabulary contained in the Survey of Irish Dialects, this means that the local dialect is absolutely capable of being rescued in the nick of time. All we lack is the will. Or do we? Is there actually someone out there with connections to the place, who has learned enough Gaelic to take the work on, who could become a TOSGAIR for the area and spend a few hours a week learning to speak like the two Iains? Could their tale and that of their language be prevented from its end when inevitably sometime over the next 20-odd years, they are parted from this world? This may seem like a very personal way to speak about two people I barely know, but what choice do I have but to take on this responsibility when very few others will? Don’t tell me that local lore, vocabulary and accent are important and then do bugger-all about it. It’s either worth something, or it’s not. There is no in between.

Asaint nan Loch ’s nan Creig

And so I left Assynt feeling that while I had spent barely three hours there, I had got under the turf, down to the peat of it a little. The Land of MacLeod lived yet as it was, but was barely hanging on by the skin of its teeth. I had dug under the myth of Neil the Traitor and I had heard the tongue of his people, who for better or for worse had stuck it out in Assynt ever since, through Clearance, poverty and war. The whole experience had been very moving.

Dair a bhitheas mi ‘n Asaint (When I am in Assynt), as Rob Donn MacAoidh (MacKay) put it, Is Leòdach mi (I am a MacLeod). Whatever area I enter, I become one of the people. I never feel like I am an outsider because I value deeply all that every nook and crannie of the Scottish Highlands has to offer and I can’t help but take the demise of its culture as a personal injury. My journey took me back across to Lochinver and I was struck by how rugged the land was, pocketed with wildly uneven lochs and hollows, puntuated vertically by jagged rock and bluff, green and grey and ginger with dying bracken under a film of kissing rain. This land is the physical expression of the language that our Iains speak and when these men cease to speak, the land will fall silent forever, another corner of the Highlands will go dark, its cultural life’s blood will cease to pump through local veins, will reach no more these extremities, withdrawing out to the Isles where it will meet a similar fate in little over 50 years, if we are not very, very, careful and more importantly, indefatigable in our determination to resist.

Monographs, dictionaries, manuals -however good- are but a single cornerstone, not a whole house.

Scholars, academics, researchers -however smart- must be as slaves to the wisdom of our elders.

Dair a bhitheas mi ’n Asaint, is Leòdach mi

To putting the horse back before the cart, in the land of MacLeod and beyond, ur slàinte mhór!

–

“Beautiful gripping writing.
Should be a book, not just a blog”
Alastair McIntosh

Tadhail air DROITSEACH

Strì nam Poblachdach

Le tearlach61

Tha co-labhairt nam Poblachadh ann an Nevada dìreach air tighinn gu crìoch ’s tha coltas ann gur e Trump a bhuanaich a’ chuid as motha. Ged a tha iad fhathst a’cunntadh ann an Nevada, tha coltas ann gun do bhuannaich an 42% cuid de na bhotaidhean ’s gum faigh e 14 riochdairean de na 30 a bha ri fhaighinn ann an Nevada.

Gu ruige seo, tha Trump air 80 riochdairean bhuanachadh. Aig a’cheart àm tha an càch air 52 riochdairean bhuanachadh. Tha Trump fad air thoiseach gu h-àraidh air sgàth gun do bhuannaich e a’ cuid gu lèir de na 50 riochdairean as a’Charolina a Deas.

Ged a tha a h-uile coltas ann gur ann le Trump a tha làmh an uachdair, ’s e cuid glè bheag de riochdairean a chaidh a thaghadh gu ruige seo. ‘S e còrr ’s 2,000 riochdairean a tha ri chunntadh ann fhathast. An t-seachdainn sa tighinn tha suas ri 500 riochdairean ri thaghadh am meag 13 stàitean ’s stàit agam fhìn nam measg (Alaska).

Airson bhuanachadh gu bhith na thagraiche nam Poblachdach, chan e a’chuid as motha a dh’fheumas Trump ri bhuanachadh ach a’ mhòr chuid. An rud a tha ri fhaicinn an t-seachdain neo dhà a tha ri tighinn ’s e an e an duine a-mhàin a tha fhathast na sheasamh an aghaidh Trump neo triùir neo dithis? Gu ruige meadhain a’mhàirt, thèid a mhòr chuid de riochdairean a roinn a rèir chuid de bhotaidhean a bhuanaicheas gach duine. As dèidh sin, an duine a bhuanaicheas a’chuid as motha ann an stait, fiùs mur a bheil e ach 30% gheibh e a’chuid gu lèir de riochdairean anns an stàit a tha seo. Mar sin, ma s’ann gu bheil thu ag iarraidh duine sam bith eile seach Trump, an rud a tha thu ag iarraidh fhaicinn ’s e aon duine a mhain a tha fhathast na sheasamh an aghaidh Trump. Mas ann gun bheil can triùir ann fhathast, tha e gu math coltach gur e Trump a tha gu bhuannachadh mar thagraiche nam Poblachdach.

Taobhadh agamsa: Ted Cruz.

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Tadhail air An Gaidheal Alascanach

stòiridh : An Caisteil Oillte (le Raibeart MacArtair)

Le puxill

Caibidil a h-Aon: An Triùir Sgrùdairean
duilleag a h-aon

Pharc Rob MacGill’Andrais an baidhsagail aige an taobh a-muigh an dachaigh agus chaidh e a-steach an taigh. Bha a mhathair anns a’ cidsinn. Nuair a chuala i e a dhùnadh an doras dh’èigh i dha.

“A Raibeart, an e thusa?”

” ‘S e mise, a Mhamaidh.” Chaidh e dhan doras a’ chidsinn. Bha a mhathair a’ dhèanamh bonnaich. ‘S i bean chaol dhonn.

“Ciamar a bha cùisean aig an leabhar-lann?” dh’fhaighnich i.

“Ceart gu leòr,” fhreagair e. Bha obair pàirt-ùine aige aig an leabhar-lann mar gille-frithealaidh. Rinn e rudan mar cur an òrdugh leabhraichean a bha thug air ais agus cur iad air an sgeilpean agus cuideachadh leis an catalog agus faidhleadh.”

“Dh’fhòn do charaid Iupatar,” ars’ a mhathair. Bha i a’ fuineadh an taois a-mach fhad ’s a bha i a’ bruidhinn leis. “Dh’fhalbh e teachdaireachd air do shon.”

“Teachdaireachd!” dh’èigh Robh air bhoil leis an iongnadh. “Dè thuirt i?”

“Sgrìobh mi i. Gheibh mi i às mo phocaid nuair bha mi deiseil den taois.”

(seo crìoch duilleag a h-aon)

Tadhail air from puxill

Dòmhnall Iain MacÌomhair

Le Acair Books

Chaill Acair, agus saoghal litreachais na Gàidhlig, deagh charaid leis an naidheachd an-dè gun do chaochail Dòmhnall Iain MacÌomhair.

Bha Dòmhnall Iain ag obair an luib foghlam fad iomadh bliadhna agus thug e còig bliadhna na cheann-suidhe air a’ Chomann Ghàidhealach. Choisinn e Crùn a’ Bhàird aig a’ Mhòd Nàiseanta sa bhliadhna 2000. Tha Acair moiteil gun do nochd leabhar de sgrìobhaidhean Dhòmhnaill Iain, Caogad san Fhàsach, bho chionn bliadhna mar phàirt den t-sreath Aiteal. `S iomadh iris is leabhar anns na nochd na sgrìobhaidhean aig Dòmhnall Iain ach ’s ann mar shàr neach-deasachaidh as motha a chuir e ri obair Acair.

Tha co-fhaireachdainn againn ri bhean, Alice agus a mhac, Morris aig an àm duilich seo. Bidh sinn gad ionndrainn.

Tadhail air An t-Seòlaid

An Seòltachd | The Method

Le An Carbadair

As much as it annoys me, I’m going to have to write the majority of this blog in Beurla. It takes me far to long and requires a lot of Gaelic phrases that I haven’t learned yet in order to talk about all the things we’d like to with this blog. Bidh mi a’ sgriobhadh ann Gàidhlig Bhriste ma tha mi tairgse. I will write in broken Gaelic if I’m able. But to get my point across it seems I’l still be stuck in English for a while. That’s one of the challenges we all face when learning Gaelic at a later age, or any language for that matter. None of us are used to having the conversational abilities of a five year old. Many of us aren’t used to speaking in our new language at all. That is where I was before we started this trip, and that is what I want to talk about today. The learners roadblocks to conversation and the method we used to get beyond that.

That last paragraph took me about a minute to write. Of that, the single gaelic sentence was about half the time, mainly because I had to go look up a phrase I’m not used to using. It makes sense when you think about it, the biggest challenge facing us learners is practice, using the language as we get it, and gaining more of it that way.

I consider myself a fairly accomplished English user and I love to talk and write. It’s a comfort level that has taken approximately 166,000 hours of full immersion in the language including classroom studies, grammar, writing, and every other study I’ve ever had. It’s little surprise then that I’m comfortable in the language. All of the idoms and phrases I need are there ready to access. In comparison I’ve been learning Gaelic for all of three years and of that time I’ve only been immersed in it for about 150 hours; nearly half of that happened during our week in Cape Breton.

The success of our immersion week wasn’t just in the class but also in how we decided to handle our learning while we were there. We decided, on our drive up, that from the time we reached the Canadian border we were going to use nothing but Gaelic whether we were in the classroom or not. For the most part we were able to stick to that plan. What it meant was we had 8 hours a day for five days of guided immersion from our instructor, Angus, and that we also force ourselves into using gaelic in unfamiliar situations. We had to learn to discuss cooking, our day plan, grocery shopping, small talk, everything had to be in Gaelic, and we didn’t always have it. It could definitely be frustrating, especially for someone as gabby as me; for example, we were looking for a place to eat in St. Johns, New Brunswick. We wanted something quick like a sandwich shop because we were pressed for time. We were giving directions, guessing, and talking about our preferences in Gaelic, and we were getting lost; we couldn’t find anything, except pizza (Canada, we need to talk, we think you may have a problem). Eventually as we crossed an under-construction bridge for the second time, in the wrong direction, we lost our patience; “English until we eat.” It was a little bit of a defeat but we were learning as well.

Through the week as we got more comfortable, and we learned what questions to ask, Gaelic became easier. There was actually a point where I felt a little odd speaking English on the phone with my family. It was getting to be second nature, after the third day, to try and get our point across in the Gaelic we had and asking questions about the Gaelic we didn’t. Everyone in our class, no matter what their level gained a lot of experience with the language. It rang through Angus’ house on a daily basis even during the times we were permitted to use English. In forcing myself to try and express myself in Gaelic I learned new words and phrases from the people I spoke to. When I would get stuck on a phrase I could usually stumble through a kindergarten version of what I was trying to say. It was enough to be understood and often would lead to some new Gaelic to use.

Usage is the key to learning the language and gaining confidence. A guided immersion is a great way to do that, and the longer the better, however that option isn’t always available. It is however more than possible to do your own immersion and change the way you think. Two of our classmates, Stephen and Nona, had made the decision to make Gaelic the language of their home, and just quit using English as much as they could. They now have a very good grasp of the language and are more than comfortable in conversation. I’ve read about others doing the same; it’s an ambitious approach and will certainly yeild results. If you’re not that confident, or if like me your family aren’t on board with Gaelic only, you can turn any portion of your day to day life into immersion. Try only ever counting in Gaelic, pick some games you or your family like to play that can be played in Gaelic (I can teach you blackjack or go fish). Use Gaelic for specific activities, prepping meals, going for a drive, shopping, etc. You can find enough online to be able to make shopping lists, for example. Anything you can do to lodge the Gaelic in your brains will make it easier to use and will eventually flow over to other areas of your Gaelic learning.

The important takeaway is don’t get discouraged and use what you have.

Tadhail air An Rathad Tuath | The North Road

An Chlachan Gaidhealach| The Highland Village

Le An Carbadair

Tha sinn seo! Ràinig sinn ann an Cheap Breatainn an-diugh!

Chuir sinn air dòigh an chungaidh againn ann an car agus chuir sinn na maillaidean aig An Fadalach ann an car. ‘S e loma-lòn a bha an car ach bha a h-uile rud ann. ‘S e Tetris-Master a th’annam!

Thòisich sinn a Ceap Breatainn is an Chlachan Gaidhealach. Chunnaic sinn an Chaolas Chanso agus Cheap Breatainn às dèidh dà uair. Chaidh sinn a thairis an chabhsair agus chaidh sinn air seachran a dh’aon ruith… a-rithist. Chan eil mi math leis an timcheallanan, a-réir coltais.

Chuir sròn ar chàir air ais agus bha sinn air an slighe againn a-rithist. Dhraibhig sinn suas an Slighe Mabel is Alexander Graham Bell gu Whycocomagh. Bha for againn air na soidhnichean leis an t-ainm Gàidhlig agus Beurla aig na bhailtean agus b’ fheudar dhuinn stad airson dealbh.

Ràinig sinn aig an Clachan Gàidhealach le da uair mus thòisicheadh an caithream ciùil. Chaidh sinn timcheall air an bùth tìodhlac ré greis agus cheannaich sinn tìodhlac, agus leabhraichean, agus godsagan airson tidseadh an cùrsa againn ann an Virginia.

Chaidh sinn ath air cuairt ann an chlachan. Bha iomadach toglaichean an-sin agus bha gach togail dè linn diofraichte ann eachdraidh Ceap Breatainn. Bha an Taigh Dubh a’ chiad. Bha an Taigh Dubh an taigh aig na Albannaich mus Na Fuadaichean. Tha taigh treiseag agus thog e le cloich. Bhitheadh an ainmhidh a’ fuireach anns an taigh leis na daoine. Bha an teine anns an taigh gum bu a’ dubhadh an siomal. Cha robh ach leabaidh agus bòrd beag anns an taigh. A-muigh, seinn an croitear puirt á beul dhuinn agus dh’innse an bean gum bu teaghlaichean air an sgaradh a chionn ’s chan eil airgid gu leòr aca a ceannaich aisir.

Chunnaic sinn deannan taighean eile. Bha gu leòr de fiodh aig an tuinichean ann an Ceap Breatainn agus rinn an ath taighean aca de bùird. Chuir iad gàrraidh airson biadh agus thoisich iad a’ tog spréidh. Bha caoran is each is muic aca.

Ghabh gaol mór agam air an taigh-saoir ann sabhal. ‘B e seo liuthad tailmean sean corr a bha ann!

Foiteag! ‘S ann fada a tha an post. Anns an ath post dh’innsidh mi leibh mun an caithream ciùil!

We are here! We arrived in Cape Breton today!

We organised our stuff in the car and we put An Fadalach’s bags in the car. The car was full but everything was in it. I’m a Tetris-Master!

We started for Cape Breton and the Highland Village. We saw the Canso Strait and Cape Breton after two hours. We crossed the causeway and we got lost immediately… again. I’m not good with traffic circles, apparently.

We turned around and we were on our way again. We drove up the Mabel and Alexander Graham Bell Way toward Whycocomagh. We were noticing the signs with the Gaelic and English names for the towns and had to stop to get a photo.

We arrived at the Highland Village with two hours before the concert would start. We went around the gift-shop for a little while and we bought gifts, and books, and tid-bits for teaching our course in Virginia.

We went on a walk in the village next. There were many buildings there and each building was from a different period in Cape Breton history. The Black House was first. The Black House was the house the Scottish had before The Clearances. It is a little house and it is made of stones. The animals would stay in the house with the people. There was a fire in the house that would blacken the ceiling. There was only a bed and a small table in the house. Outside, the crofter sang mouth-music for us and the wife told us that families would be separated because they didn’t have enough money for passage.

We saw a few other houses. The setllers had enough wood in Cape Breton and they made their next houses from boards. They planted gardens for food and they raised livestock. There had sheep and horses and pigs.

I fell in love with the woodshop in the barn. There were so many great old tools there!

Phew! This is a long post. In the next post I will tell you about the concert!

Tadhail air An Rathad Tuath | The North Road