Preserving The Language; It's More Than Just Words

As you may recall, in June 2012, Lauren, and I walked 200 miles across England – from the west coast to the east coast, from the Irish Sea to the North Sea. You can read about that wonderful, eye-opening adventure on another blog; walkmyfatass.blogspot.com. Last June, we walked 111 miles around the Dingle Peninsula, in Ireland’s County Kerry. It’s about as far west in western Europe as one can be and it’s a world all its own. Like so many other people these days, I’d been tracing my family heritage, searching for information about my ancestors. After months of digging through Ancestry.com's church documents and sorting through faded black and white photos, a trip to the Emerald Isle seemed inevitable. I had an urgent need to walk the land my people had lived on. I wanted to find family. I found far more than I’d hoped for.

Without a doubt, one of the most moving experiences was hearing Gaeilge (Irish) spoken for the first time. It was on the train from Dublin to Tralee, the county town of Kerry. The computerized female voice that came from the train’s speakers gave instructions first in Gaeilge and then again in English. I was enthralled and almost hypnotized by the strange vowels and consonants. I heard it again, spoken more naturally and lively, in a quaint Tralee pub named the Abbey Inn. (Talk about great food, great beer, and atmosphere!) The lyrical language captivates me like none other. Unfortunately, it’s a pale shadow of its former self and restricted to a small portion of only seven counties along Ireland’s west coast.

So why is the language in danger of being lost? Its decline began under English rule in the seventeenth century. The crown viewed its use unfavorable, a serious threat to all things English in Ireland. In the late nineteenth century, Ireland lost a significant portion of its population to either emigration or death following the Great Famine. Thousands of English-speaking families moved onto Irish land and English policies actively promoted the adoption of the English language. I imagine that the most powerful force against Irish was the fact that the wealthiest and most powerful people spoke English. The ability to speak English was a necessity if one hoped for opportunities for advancement. As a result, the Irish language became associated with rural folk and became a sign of poverty and disadvantage. (Those damn Brits!) Between 1700 and 1900, Irish went from being the majority language of the island to a minor tongue spoken by disenfranchised groups in the West. (My people.)

We're truly fortunate that the language was preserved and no doubt have the efforts of many generations of stubborn (or were they tenacious?) Irish people to thank for it. I top my hat to them...and my pint glass, too.

Although the Irish government has instituted programs to preserve the language, the percentage of native Irish who speak it daily continues to decline. To many, the loss of Gaeilge would be a cultural calamity. I unconditionally count myself among them. I’m committed to help raise awareness of the threat facing the Irish language. I hope to see the Irish government dedicate additional resources to education and I hope to encourage travelers to visit Gaeltacht (Irish-speaking regions of western Ireland) to show support for the survival of the language of our ancestors. Two things: please don't go while I'm there, I want it all to myself and please don't go on some crappy group bus tour. Hire a car, ride bikes, or better yet, walk. The best parts of Ireland and the most gracious, wonderful folk can't be enjoyed from a bus window.

My first solo distance walking adventure will certainly be a physical challenge, but more than that, I hope it will become a vehicle to enlighten people regarding the importance of protecting Ireland’s language, and as a result, its culture. It’ll be a true honor and privilege to walk alone among the stones and hills that shaped my ancestors into the hardworking, steadfast people they became. I will glimpse into my past and in doing so, perhaps find my future.

Until then, I'm taking a stab at learning the beautiful language of my people.

Slan.