Island Voices come under the spotlight in this Digital Museum event on International Mother Language Day, Sunday 21st of February. We’re up in the third session of four in total that track westwards across the globe through numerous timezones under Jibunnessa Abdullah’s careful guiding hand. All session timings and links are available through the tweet below.
We’re on at 3.30pm Hebridean time in the Gaelic and Jamaican session, but you could usefully spend the whole of Sunday listening in to the various speakers from Bangladesh to the Americas!
Jibunnessa makes generous mention of Island Voices’ “innovative and energetic approach to improving language engagement and multilingual connections across the globe” on the registration page for this session. In a programme packed with interesting speakers there won’t be time to show any of our films in the session itself, but in the spirit the day celebrates we’ve selected a few below from across the years with a particularly international flavour that you might care to preview, as a reminder of (or introduction to) some of the things we do, and perhaps as a warm-up for the event itself. See you then!
Maggie Smith, from Achmore on Lewis, has been doing a power of work collecting and recording Gaelic stories and poetry around and about Lewis for a number of years, many of them curated on her own website, and reproduced on the Island Voices page dedicated to her work. Nor has lockdown stopped her, as she reveals in this conversation with Pàdruig Moireach conducted over Zoom.
This is a new and experimental departure for the Stòras Beò nan Gàidheal team, seeking to make a virtue out of necessity. Indeed, in some ways community recording work may become easier as more and more of us get accustomed to using technology to overcome physical barriers. If this works well, we can expect more of this kind of material in the months to come.
In the first part, Maggie talks about early childhood memories and stories of Glasgow where she was born, though her Achmore roots go back many generations. Returning home she recalls the kind of upbringing island children of her age received, in which community links and mutual responsibilities were strong. Grandparental stories from work experience in Patagonia, and snatches of Spanish at the fank guarded against cultural introversion. She recalls her schooling, and the impact of television’s arrival on cèilidh culture, with traditional work on the land noticeably falling off in the 80s, particularly after oil work began.
In the second part Maggie and Pàdruig talk about trends in island work patterns over the years. The advent of the Arnish yard led to skills development opportunities for men across Lewis, which many later put to use in openings around the world. Weaving was a traditional occupation, frequently practised in combination with other jobs. Even as a schoolchild Maggie was accustomed to fitting her schoolwork into other duties, such as fetching water for the house. After a short spell working in Inverness after school, she returned to work with the family haulage firm for many years, before branching out into media work, tourism and other projects.
In the third part Maggie talks more about her cultural activity in the community, including community drama based on locally sourced stories, and the collection of local poetry. Moving to Zoom during lockdown has created a new platform for locals to share stories and for incomers and Gaelic learners to learn about the culture, recreating old communities and gathering new people. She also talks about the power of music and song in working with older people at risk of memory loss, and of collecting fishermen’s stories, mostly in Gaelic. The conversation ends with a discussion of changes that have come over Achmore and the use of Gaelic in the community.
Each week we publish the text of our Gaelic Word of the Week podcast here with added facts, figures and photos for Gaelic learners who want to learn a little about the language and about the Scottish Parliament – Pàrlamaid na h-Alba. This week we are looking at Valentines Day . Valentine’s Day will soon be … Leugh an corr de Gaelic Word of the Week – Happy Valentines Day
’S ann a bha i ann an Caisteal Tarrais (Carstairs) ann an Siorrachd Lannraig a Deas, eadar stèisean Chaisteal Tarrais agus Taigh Chaisteal Tarrais (air a bheil Taigh Menteith an-diugh). Chaidh a thogail le uachdaran na sgìre a bha a’ fuireach san taigh agus ’s e loidhne phrìobhaideach a bh’ ann.
Bha an t-slighe-trama mìle a dh’fhaid agus rinneadh an dealan air a son le dealan-uisge a rinneadh ann an Abhainn Chluaidh faisg air làimh.
Our Craigard film was the first we ever made, and we keep returning to it for inspiration!
This week’s exciting news, following our posts last Friday and Saturday, is the addition of optional subtitles to the Island Voices Gaelic videos on our YouTube channel. When we asked who would be interested in such a development on our social media last weekend, the positive reactions quickly came back in their hundreds. (Some folk also wanted the reassurance that this would not mean the withdrawal of un-subtitled videos or of the Clilstore transcripts – we have no intention of doing either!)
Given the strongly expressed enthusiasm, the response from the Speech Recognition research project team has been instant and impressive. Systems have been set up to enable the automatic subtitling of all the Gaelic output on our Island Voices Videos YouTube channel, and all 20 films in Series One are already done – with the Craigard documentary in first place on the playlist. Keep an eye out for swift progress on Series Two and other films in due course!
The way in is through the CC “Closed Caption” button. To see any subtitles at all, that needs to be on. (So the default viewing remains clear of any textual additions.) You should now see the Gaelic subtitles.
But that’s not all – once you have them enabled, there’s another clever little trick that enables Google Translate to work on them. If you go into Settings (next to CC) and then click on “subtitles” you’ll find an “auto-translate” option, which then opens a wide range of languages into which the Gaelic subtitles can be translated. (WARNING: if you want English, DON’T go for the “English auto-generated” option first offered. Follow instead the “auto-translate” route and then pick English from the dropdown menu – unless you want a good laugh at “Artificial Intelligence”!)
Machine translation remains an imperfect science, of course, so any expectation of error-free renderings will inevitably be disappointed. Nevertheless, even without this extra facility, Gaelic learners stand to benefit just from using the Gaelic subtitles alone as an extra support for their eyes to help their ears recognise what they’re hearing.
So here’s the Craigard film again – this time with the new multilingual subtitle functionality added.
Nor is this the first time that the Craigard film has taken the lead in test-driving new innovations and community adaptations. Donald Mackinnon’s re-voicing of the original films in Gaelic and English was our first step along the road to the re-purposing of many of our films in Other Tongues. And, much more recently, it’s the film Valentini Litsiou chose for her Greek contribution. (Donald’s versions are actually hosted on a different YouTube channel, so the subtitling option is not available for them – but he did the film in both Gaelic and English, anyway!)
Gàidhlig agus Beurla, gu cinnteach – ach a bheil cànain eile aig Flòraidh NicDhòmhnaill? Agus ma tha, cia mheud!?
Abair seachdain “techie” a th’ air a bhith aig Guthan nan Eilean. Bha fèill mhòr Dihaoine is Disathairne sa chaidh air na fo-thiotalan “automataigeach” a chaidh a chruthachadh aig Oilthigh Dhùn Èideann ann am pròiseact Shoillse, ach dè eile a thàinig a-mach à sin ach cothrom fo-thiotalan a chur air na bhidiothan Gàidhlig uile gu lèir a th’ aig Guthan nan Eilean air YouTube! Cha ghabh an obair sin dèanamh taobh-a-staigh latha, ach tha an sgioba ris a’ ghnothach, agus tha Sreath 1 deiseil mar-thà.
Chan e sin deireadh an sgeòil ge-tà. Le fo-thiotalan “san t-siostam” a-nis tha sin a’ fàgail gur urrainnear “eadar-theangachadh” a thabhann cuideachd tro Google Translate air na fo-thiotalan sna bhidiothan. Cha bhi iad gun mhearachd idir, ach can nam biodh càirdean agad aig nach eil Gàidhlig: an dèidh dhut “CC” a chur air, faodar an uair sin na settings air “subtitles” atharrachadh gu “auto-translate” airson tionndadh air choireigin a thabhann dhaibh ann am Beurla – no Frangais, Gearmailtis, agus iomadh cànan eile.
Seo Flòraidh, ma tha, ann an Sreath 1, ri “leughadh” cha mhòr ann an cànan sam bith a thogras tu.
Agus mar chuimhne air a’ chuspair air a bheil i a’ bruidhinn, cuir sùil a-rithis air a’ phost “Community Adaptations” airson tionndaidhean eile (gun fo-thiotalan) fhaicinn dhe na filmichean aithriseach a thòisich an còmhradh, le seann charaid eile aig Guthan nan Eilean na rionnag annta…
Thug sinn sùil air slighe-trama gu math neo-àbhaisteach ann an Èirinn – meur-loidhne ann am Fionntamhnach (Fintona) ann an Contae Tír Eoghain.
Bha an stèisean mu mhìle air falbh bhon bhaile fhèin agus mar sin, thog iad meur-loidhne eadar an stèisean agus meadhan a’ bhaile. Ach leis gur e baile beag a bh’ ann is gun robh an loidhne gu math goirid, chleachd iad trama eich air an loidhne seach trèana.
Nuair a bha mi a’ dèanamh beagan rannsachadh air Fionntamhnach, fhuair mi a-mach gun robh loidhne den aon sheòrsa againn ann an Alba uair.
Trama Innis Tùir, Siorrachd Pheairt, Dealbh bho Wikimedia Commons
B’ e seo slighe-trama Innis Tùir (Beurla: Inchture) ann an Siorrachd Pheairt ann an Cars Ghòbhraidh. Bha stèisean Innis Tùir air an loidhne eadar Peairt is Dùn Dè mu mhìle gu leth a deas air a’ bhaile agus mar sin, chaidh meur-loidhne a thogail gu meadhan a’ bhaile fhèin. Dh’fhosgail an loidhne ann an 1849 agus b’ e an Inchture Express no an Railway Car am far-ainm a bh’ aig muinntir a’ bhaile air an trama eich.
Coltach ri Fionntamhnach, bhiodh an trama eich a’ ruith do luchd-siubhail ach bhiodh loco àbhaisteach a’ dol ann gus bathair a thogail bho fhactaraidh bhricichean is thaidhlichean a’ bhaile.
Dhùin an loidhne bheag seo ann an 1916 agus chaidh na rèilichean a thogail airson a chleachdadh sa Chogadh Mhòr. Chaidh stèisean Innis Tùir a dhùnadh ann an 1956.
Each week we publish the text of our Gaelic Word of the Week podcast here with added facts, figures and photos for Gaelic learners who want to learn a little about the language and about the Scottish Parliament – Pàrlamaid na h-Alba. This week we are looking at how to say you can speak a language. … Leugh an corr de Gaelic Word of the Week – I speak Gaelic
Gaelic on the Seaboard 8: Oh, it’s you that’s in it!
In our series so far on Gaelic as used on the Seaboard (7 articles already!) I’ve looked mainly at Gaelic words and phrases that were and often still are used in otherwise English conversations – things like strawlyach (stràileach) for seaweed, or eeshun (isean) for wee rascal, or porstan (portan) for a small crab. (Feel free to keep sending me these!)
This time and in the next one or two articles I’ll look at how the way Villages people speak or spoke English shows the influence of Gaelic too – in sentence structure or turns of phrase. Gaelic looks at the world slightly differently, reflecting the mindsets and lifestyles of our forefathers. Languages all do that, that’s the beauty of knowing at least bits of other languages – you realise there’s more than one way of seeing things. People learning a new language take time to absorb these differences, and often simply translate word for word from their mother-tongue, and that’s what happened with Gaelic-speaking generations picking up English – in my case, the generation of my grandparents. My granny’s speech was full of Gaelicisms that seemed quite normal to me as a child, and many of them were also used by the next generation (my parents), and some have continued up to now. It was only when I moved away from the Highlands that others pointed out how odd some of my turns of phrase were. As Gaelic lasted longer in the fishing villages than in the towns, these borrowed expressions also lasted longer in places like the Seaboard. They are what give local colour and richness to our way of speaking, so I’d hate to see them die out altogether.
In what???
I’m sure most locals, those of a certain age anyway, will remember the older folk opening the door to you and saying “Oh, it’s you that’s in it!” It never occurred to me to wonder “in what?” until non-Highlanders questioned it. In fact this is one of these Gaelic translations. The Gaelic for “in it” is “ann” (pronounced like the –own in down), and this word is also used for “there”. When there’s no specific place meant, the “in it” is actually “in existence” or “being”, so the Gaelic ann is used for here, there, present, available etc. It roughly does the same job as the English “There is….”, e.g. there’s plenty of tea. (English learners often ask, But where is “there”?) Gaelic would say Tha tì gu leòr ann, literally, Plenty of tea is in it/there/here/available.
Other typical examples of what you might have come across are: “Look at the mess that’s in it!” “It’s the truth that’s in it.” It’s a cold wind that’s in it.” “I thought it was thunder but it’s a plane that was in it.”
And a Black Isle resident told me her Culbokie grandparents would say things like “What’s in it for dinner?”
I also remember my dad saying of someone making a mess of some woodwork: “It’s no a joiner that’s in him!” Another direct translation from Gaelic. Gaelic defines someone’s identity, profession or nationality etc as being in them, part of their being. ‘S e saor a th’ ann. It’s a joiner that’s in him.
It’s a nurse that’s in her. It’s Americans that was in them. It’s a lovely kind woman that was in her. It’s nothing but a rogue that’s in him!
In other words, scratch their skin and underneath you’ll find a joiner/nurse/American etc inside.
It’s… that….
You can see a pattern emerging here too in the sentence structure: It’s … that…..
Gaelic doesn’t just use this format with ann, in it etc, to define things or say what’s there, but to give the key element more clarity or emphasis. ‘S e motor-baic a th’ aige, chan e càr. “It’s a motorbike that he has, not a car.” Instead of the more neutral “He has a motorbike, not a car”. Similarly, “It’s the creels that he’s at just now.” “It’s Aberdeen he’s in, isn’t it?”
Here’s one I heard fairly often as a child: “It’s a skelp that she’s needing!” And I was also given these: “It’s only lining his pockets he was.” And “It’s the truth I have!” – a story-teller defending herself against disbelief.
Yourself, itself
Sometimes you’d hear “Oh, it’s yourself that’s in it” as a more emphatic recognition at the door. Gaelic doesn’t stress words by increasing their volume as in English, but by placing them in an emphatic position, e.g. after It’s…”, and / or by adding an extra element to them, usually “self” (fhèin). “It’s yourself that’s the daft one!” “It’s himself that told me.”
This was also applied to things, not just people, usually in the sense of “even”. “He wouldn’t wear the jacket itself to church!” – he wouldn’t even wear a jacket. “You couldn’t get butter itself in the shop.” Another one I was given: “he couldn’t sleep in the house itself,” – not even in the house.
That will do for this time, but I’d be delighted if it jogged any memories or made you keep your ears open for similar examples, and for other expressions that maybe sound odd to non-local ears. Keep them coming! Thanks!
