In which #2 goes native

So hot on the heels of the big fella, the little chap is off on his travels today.  #2 is rather an Irish speaking whizz (the only one in our family, #1 was considered too old to start learning).  He can say ‘kiss my arse’ in Irish, which is impressive in itself, but to further improve his rich Irish vocabulary, he’s off to spend a week in the Donegal Gaeltacht. 

Those of you who don’t know what the bloody hell I’m on about will be pleased to know that it’s not some kind of ancient Irish torture, but a week in the beautiful North West of our green and soggy country, mixing with the locals and improving his Gaeilge.  Irish speaking (or Gaeltacht) regions are dotted all around Ireland, mostly in the west, but there’s a little one quite close to us in Meath and another in Waterford.  School trips to these areas are commonplace (kind of like a French exchange except you don’t have to have the stroppy, hairy French teenager making your house look untidy for the week).  What he’s supposed to do is speak nothing but Irish for a whole week, thereby improving his spoken Irish no end, soak up the culture, revel in the magic and folklore and discover a little more of Ireland’s unique heritage.  What he’ll probably be doing is sodding about with his mates, doing things he wouldn’t get away with at home and thoroughly enjoying his freedom, but that’s an aside.

So Donegal, then.  It is, apparently, Ireland’s second largest Gaeltacht region: a beautiful and breathtaking land of huge mountains, lakes and valleys whose amazing coastline is lapped gently by the Atlantic.  The beaches are supposed to be some of the best in the whole of Ireland.  I’m dead jealous, frankly.

So off he went this morning, then, staggering under the weight of a holdall almost as big as he is, and armed with the spare phone (the lesson in texting wasn’t overly a success so whether we hear from him at all remains to be seen), the usual cornucopia of electronic devices, some spare underwear and his Lynx spray that smells like chocolate.  Oh and he’s packed his Gaelic Football gloves and his boots.  Well, you never know when you might get a game…

 

 

Posted in Diary |

16 Responses

  1. Thriftcriminal Says:
    April 21st, 2008 at 9:21 am

    I had to learn it, I was 7 when we moved to Ireland. BUT I didn’t need to to matriculate (no I’m not being filthy) so I never did any real work in it, just enough to keep the teachers from having a knicker fit. No gaeltacht for me. That said I wish I’d learned more at the time, though the way it is taught is poor to say the least.

  2. Aidan Says:
    April 21st, 2008 at 9:42 am

    I used to go to the Irish college in Carrigaholt (in County Clare) in the summers. Best days of my younger life. It was the place I discovered love. We had Céilis every night, Irish debates, sports, music. The only sad thing was that there was nowhere to go with all the Gaelic energy when you got back home.
    I am sure that your son will love it. I have to say that I still speak Irish well enough but the Donegal dialect is very different so I need sub-titles for those guys.

  3. Tara Says:
    April 21st, 2008 at 9:49 am

    Good for him! So much easier when you’re small to learn it. Do you plan to in Ireland for awhile, then, so he’ll be able to maintain it? My baby brother once ‘ran away’ in his battery-powered Jeep with a bag full of sliced bread and extra underwear at his side– seems #2 did a decent packing job, all things considered. :)

  4. Tara Says:
    April 21st, 2008 at 9:49 am

    To live in Ireland, I meant. Though for fun you could add your own verb, I guess.

  5. englishmuminireland Says:
    April 21st, 2008 at 11:37 am

    Thrifty: Yes, funny that. It doesn’t seem to be taught in the way that other languages are. That said, it’s slightly difficult for me to keep track of his homework when I can’t speak a word myself. I’d like to know a little bit just for ease of pronunciation. I still call Baroimhe ‘ba-roym-he’ (it should be ba-ree-va, apparently), much to J’s consternation.

    Aidan: Welcome! Or should that be..er…fáilte! Aw it sounds lovely. If he has half the fun that you seem to have done I’ll be very happy. I did persuade him to take ‘proper trousers’ in case there was any dancin’ to be done. I love the thought of my children speaking Irish and playing GAA. When in Rome…as they say… x

    Tara: Yes, we’d like to, although life and Hubby’s job might conspire against us. My ideal would be to see them growing up here.

    Sliced bread and underwear seem eminently more sensible than chocolate smelling Lynx though…

    Oh, and re the verb…I was thinking ‘to vegetate’ or possibly ‘to wallow’. Although ’samba’ and ‘do the funky chicken’ also fit…xx

  6. Jennynib Says:
    April 21st, 2008 at 8:10 pm

    An t-Ádh leat, Iarla!!!

    (Good luck #2)

    Mwah!!

    J

  7. Aidan Says:
    April 22nd, 2008 at 6:36 am

    Thanks for the fáilte.
    Your post inspired me to write something related (you made me jealous!). http://faoiseamh.blogspot.com/2008/04/what-ive-lost-what-ive-gained.html

  8. SleepyJane Says:
    April 22nd, 2008 at 6:48 am

    Ireland is probably one of the places on my list of 10 to visit!! I hope he was a fantastic trip! I can say kiss my ass: póg mo thóin. How awesome am I? (I think it right…O.o)

  9. englishmuminireland Says:
    April 22nd, 2008 at 7:00 am

    J: You’re the only person in his life that he can actually converse with! (Oh lord…) xx

    Aidan: Excellent! I’m off over to your pad to check it out now. Thanks for the link x

    Sleepy: Aw you must come. As long as you like rain, it’s grand. Yep, that’s it. It’s a favourite in our house! x

  10. Foreigner Says:
    April 22nd, 2008 at 11:48 am

    It fill my heart with fear and despair, frankly + the though of Sir Sprout starting school and then having to help him with his homework … and not having an effin’ clue.

    Mommy will be oh so uncool in this house.

  11. Emily Says:
    April 22nd, 2008 at 2:32 pm

    I have yet to buy a Gaelic language course - but after visiting the book store in Waterford which is like an Aladdins cave, I will certainly be doing so soon. I mentioned this to Hubby’s Irish cousin who learnt at school and is just 17 and she said ‘Oh you must, it’s wonderful’!
    I’m hoping it may help me to start pronouncing the place names and assist the children with homework.
    Being just down the road from An Rinn I should also get a chance to practice.

  12. englishmuminireland Says:
    April 22nd, 2008 at 4:36 pm

    Foreigner: Ah, don’t despair. The beauty of parenting is that you get a few years to brainwash your child before they realise it’s happening. You can therefore lay claim to any old talent and milk it for every more. Can’t add up? Then you can be The Parent Who Can Spell Stuff (that’s me), or The Parent Who is Whizzy at Languages (that’s definitely you - look at your English and it’s not even your first language!). See, you’re a genius! xx

    Em: Me too. I’d like to do one of those Irish Culture courses too. xx

  13. Colm Says:
    April 23rd, 2008 at 7:25 pm

    Isn’t it a tad bit early for a trip to the Gaeltacht? Anyway….

    Go n-éirí an bóthar leis! Good luck to him!

  14. englishmuminireland Says:
    April 23rd, 2008 at 7:37 pm

    Colm: Welcome!! Nice to see a new face. I’m not sure - is it usually a summer thing then? He’s loving it - the texts have completely dried up. His Daddy sent him a text asking if he was settled in and having fun, and what he was doing. His reply: ‘loads’. Obviously far too busy!! x

  15. Medbh Says:
    April 24th, 2008 at 10:54 pm

    Eilis ni Dhuibhne’s novel “The Dancer’s Dancing” is a fabulous novel about kids going away to a Gaeltacht in Donegal.

  16. englishmuminireland Says:
    April 25th, 2008 at 8:14 am

    Medbh: Ooh thanks, I’ll have a hunt for it. x

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