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Showing posts with label Swansea University. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Swansea University. Show all posts

Sunday, September 30, 2018

And another one bites the dust?



Resultado de imagen de failing to learn spanish

Having struggled through years of incomprehensible lessons in the Spanish language and failed to learn it with the requisite fluency that my stay in Spain would seem to demand, I have taken it upon myself to fail to learn Catalan too.

Let it be said at once that I do have two qualifications (of sorts) in Spanish and that, in spite of my signal inability to come to terms with even the most straightforward of verbs in the language, I do find that I can flannel my way through conversations (or monologues) in most everyday situations and, although my partners in this unequal linguistic exchange come away paler and older than when they first encountered me and my ‘way with the foreign words’, they also (generally) seem to understand what I have been on about.

I take this admittedly low bar of foreign communication as an achievement, and am prepared to give it my best in Catalan.

I have had my first three lessons, in the same school that has been valiantly trying to teach me Spanish.  For the princely sum of 10 (ten) Euros I am now enrolled for 150 hours (one and a half hours twice a week, Tuesdays and Thursdays) for the next year.

Resultado de imagen de catalan for beginners


Unlike my Spanish courses, where because of my specious confidence in attempting to speak the language I started in media res, so to speak, in Catalan I start at the very lowest entry level. 

And that has to be a good thing, as from the lowest of the low, the only way is, of course, up.  At least that is the theory to which I am adhering and in which I fondly believe.

By way of preparation for the first class I learned the days of the week in Catalan (though not how to spell them – little by little does it!) and how to give my name and nationality.

Resultado de imagen de days of the week in catalan


My nationality (a moveable feast at the best of times) is firmly placed in Wales when asked about it in foreign lands.  Catalonia’s National Day (11th September, the Diada) marks a disaster in the history of the country when the final outcome of the War of the Spanish Succession was finally decided in favour of the Bourbons and not the Hapsburgs.  England had been firmly on the side of the Hapsburgs, as had the Catalans, and the Catalans were assured that England would stick by them whatever the outcome.  That commendable solidarity lasted right up to the defeat when the English hightailed it out of the conflict leaving their erstwhile Catalan allies to take the consequences. 

Resultado de imagen de diada catalana 2018


And severe consequences they were including the loss of Catalan territories in France on the other side of the Pyrenees; the destruction of the walls of Barcelona; the imposition of a Madrid appointed governor (just like the actions of the systemically corrupt PP government of recent memory); the suppression of the Catalan language (a go-to stance for all Spanish, Fascist, Right-Wing, nasty people), and various other humiliations.  This is what the National Day celebrates. 

It is hardly surprising that it is also a focus of nationality when more than a million people (or a few thousand if you read the Spanish press) take to the streets.  So, you can see why I distance myself from the perfidious Albion in this part of the world and emphasise the Welsh upbringing that I had – Wales having provided a higher ‘volunteers per 100,000 of the population’ to fight in the International Brigade against Franco and the Fascists than other parts of the United Kingdom.  And there is a monument to the fighters of the International Brigade in Cathays Park in Cardiff.
Resultado de imagen de international brigade monument in cathays park


Actually I wouldn’t bet my life on that statistic, but I believe it to be true – and in the ‘World According to Trump’ that is all I need!


CardiffHighSchoolLogo.pngThe only drawback to my Welshness in Catalonia, specifically in my language school, is that I am called on to provide words and phrases in my assumed national language to be written on posters on the walls to emphasise the multi-cultural background of the institution and to parade its diversity.  Unfortunately my suggestions of “Towards the light” (school motto);
Resultado de imagen de swansea university motto
“Bereft is he of craft without inborn gift” (college motto);
Resultado de imagen de swansea university motto
“Truth, Unity and Concord” (my other university);”
Resultado de imagen de city of cardiff motto
Awake, it is day” and “The red dragon leads the way” (city mottoes) were not acceptable as I knew them (or at least knew how to spell them) only in English.  My Catalan teachers wanted actual Welsh and I am ashamed to admit that I had to look up the Welsh before I submitted them to be written up!


The differences between Catalan and Spanish are not anything like so great as those between English and Welsh.  This is hardly surprising as Catalan has strong links to the group of languages derived from Latin; the links with Spanish and French are especially strong and some words differ more in their spelling in these languages than their pronunciation.  But Catalan is a distinct language and, like all minority languages comes filled with political and social overtones when you attempt to learn it.

In the part of Catalonia in which I live, in the city of Castelldefels, just outside Barcelona, I do not think that Catalan is the majority language.  This area has seen a vast influx of workers from other parts of Spain who have gravitated to Catalonia to take advantage of the job opportunities that such a highly industrialized part of Spain offers.  Catalonia is a rich part of Spain – and a potentially richer part, independentistas argue if it finally separates itself from the other regions and attains nationhood.

In the present febrile atmosphere, where the repercussions of the vicious attempted suppression of the referendum vote for Catalan independence by the Spanish State still reverberate: Catalan and Catalonia are flashpoints and discussion is divisive and at times bitter.

Among those who count themselves as Catalans, there is probably an overwhelming majority who would vote for independence; but there is a sizeable proportion of the population in Catalonia who see themselves as Spanish speaking Spaniards before they consider themselves Catalan – and that particular segment of the population is adamantly opposed to independence.

In the last election the population of Catalonia elected a majority of representatives who were (in theory) pro-independence.  Admittedly, the largest single party comprised C’s a repulsive party composed of political sluts who have achieved nothing and have exerted all their energies to trying to scrape their way to power with whoever and whatever will serve their purposes.  They are, however, a minority, and however they try and spin it, a majority in parliament in Barcelona seeks greater power for the region.  I say region there, because some of the groupings opposed to the unutterable shower of C’s have back peddled on moving towards independence and are engaged in muddying the waters to try and find ‘another’ way to resolve the situation, stopping well short of cutting themselves adrift from the encumbrance of Spain.

There are no easy answers to the political situation in Catalonia, and the gratuitous police violence that we saw against the peaceful demonstrations on Saturday marking the anniversary of the police brutality when they attempted to stop the referendum taking place on the question of independence, merely hardens attitudes on both sides.

Resultado de imagen de police violence barcelona saturday 29th September 2018


Brexit, Trump and Catalonia are all ‘situations’ that require bi-partisan politics to produce satisfactory solutions.  There seems little chance of that in the ‘winner takes all’ approach that seems to govern politics nowadays.

Politics should be the art of the possible, not the fist of the powerful.

Meanwhile, I will cultivate my garden with writing and the learning of a new language.   

Every little helps!

Wednesday, December 06, 2017

Why do I listen to the news?


Today is the Day of the Constitution.  And a Bank Holiday.

Horrifically, we get to see our “government” – the worthless bunch of right wing self seeking members of the minority government of the most corrupt party in Western Europe all standing together, smirking at a population that did not vote for them to be the government but, due to the ineptitude of the opposition political parties has allowed this ‘criminal’ bunch to stay in power, to force our President into exile, to imprison our political leaders, to invoke 155 and all of this from a party with 9% support in Catalonia that has assumed control of our country.  And you have to say that vast sentence in one breath to get the full effect!

And now on television, Ana Pastor the president of Congress, is making a speech in which key words like “liberty”, “democracy”, “justice”, “rights”, “tolerance”, “dialogue” are being used that, for this ‘government’ have a very specific meaning which does not even come close to anything that I understand the words to mean. 

Listening to the national Spanish government reminds me of my time in a student strike in Swansea University when I was part of a delegation which met with members of the governing body of the University.  The Chair of the university Council that we met was Ifor Davies, trade union supported Labour MP for Gower, and it became clear that the words and concepts that I was using to put forward the student case were also being owned by Ifor Davies, but it rapidly became clear that a common vocabulary did not mean common beliefs. 

There is nothing more frustrating to hear your words used against you by someone who wilfully redefines their meaning poles away from an understanding that should be common to you both. 

But Ivor Davies was an established, institutional ‘Socialist’ in a safe Labour seat and he was never going to be on the side of radical change, and it was my first ‘real life’ experience of, “the devil can cite scripture for his purpose” approach to political debate.  In spite of this happening decades ago, I still find that approach hurtful and distasteful.  And I hear it every day as soon as a member of the Spanish National Minority Government opens its mouth.

I can’t even turn to the UK news to add a moment of tranquillity as the Conservative Brexit convulsions continue to make my country an international laughing stock. If I understood the extract of the news on Radio 4 correctly the government has not undertaken a study of the financial implications of Brexit on British Industry!  

If that is correct, then the government and especially the Minister for Brexit have been criminally incompetent; if they have done studies (surely, they must have) and they are deliberately keeping yet more compromising information about the disaster that Brexit is going to be from the general public then they should resign.  En mass, and now!

Though, finding out that the minority Conservative government is unprepared is par for the course given the generally clueless mess that the Conservatives (“lower than vermin”) have made of the whole Brexit fiasco so far.

I thought about that after the last Brexit disaster but two (or was it three) when the unprepossessing leader of the troglodytic DUP (the dim but intense girl you wouldn’t have wanted to have been put next to in school) Arlene Foster phoned up the zombified misfiring robot that masquerades as our Prime Minister and peremptorily informed her that she had to stop talking to those nasty Europeans.  And the very next day the throwback Tories rose like the scum they are and mouthed their inane platitudes.

It was seeing in The Guardian a photo montage of the main Tory Brexiteers applauding the stance of Foster (Ian Duncan Smith, Redwood, Lawson, Rees-Mogg etc) I was reminded of the line up of The Munsters or The Addams Family, the same freakish look but without the family charm of The Munsters or the moral clarity of The Addams Family.

Why is it that we have to tolerate these startling failures (IDS for the state of social services and care of the disabled; Redwood for his ‘singing’ of the Welsh National Anthem among other things; Lawson for his singing as the pound plunged; Rees-Mogg for existing) pontificating about an appalling situation that they have consciously helped produce.  Based on what they have already done, what the hell do they know about how to make the situation in the United Kingdom any better?

I need to watch a film or go to the opera again or listen to music or read a book and convince myself that there is intellectual life out there that is not tainted by political idiocy.  And Trump is now moving the American Embassy to Jerusalem!  Each day brings more bad news than can be easily consumed in a twenty-four hour period!

We must make the days longer!


Thursday, March 05, 2015

Pace increases


Day 5 of Bike Riding.

At last an uneventful day with the chain staying firmly on the cogs.  The wind, however, was another story.  And it was against me all the way there, even drawing water from my eyes.  There is nothing like discomfort to make you believe that you are really doing something major.  It allowed me to ignore the pathetically small distance that I actually travel each day to get to my swim.  Small enough to be manageable but long enough for me to feel that I have accomplished something when it is done.
            The aquacise or whatever they call it when a group of aging people stand in the pool and vaguely follow the gyrations of a raucous teacher shouting against pounding music.  A pair of earplugs and head under water modifies the noise level and anyway, I am usually thinking profound thoughts as I mindlessly make my way up and down.  Well, not necessarily profound but deep, deep as the pool.  And as this is a modern double shallow end pool and child friendly, you can tell exactly how probing those thoughts are!
            I am reminded of my time in university when I used to go for a swim in the pool next to Singleton Hospital every day.  The swim was a form of exercise and of relaxation too.  I thought, I am always thinking, but the level of thought was not quite so focussed, it became more wide-ranging and less serious, almost like a waking dream.  Sometimes I take a single part of a thought and worry it like a bone and let it go where it will.  The great thing about swimming is that if you don’t keep at least part of your mind on what you are doing, you drown.  So there is a dual control thing going on which is so different from normal living that it can little less than a form of escape.  Or at least that is what I tell myself.  Anyway, by the time all the half thoughts, the vague ideas, the necessary exercise and little distractions of other human bodies have played themselves to some sort of climax, it is time to end the swim.  And it can all start again tomorrow!

Support Toni’s Blog

Lunch now has become a duty.  We only eat to add another restaurant to the growing number contained in Toni’s Blog http://catalunyaplacetoeat.blogspot.com.es/ this time going to a place that we haven’t been to for some time.
            The décor had been partially changed but the ambience of the place was just about the same, or rather it was a bit lopsided as if they hadn’t really made a final decision about how the almost revamped place should look.
            The food was fine with my main dish of wok fried chicken and vegetables being really rather good.  But look at the blog to see what we ate.
            I like the idea of each eating out experience being captured and blogified.  Over a year or so we should have a substantial number of entries and have a bewilderingly luscious selection of what Castelldefels can offer.
            I wonder if what Toni writes will develop more of a bite and be more destructive, or constructively critical as time goes on.  This is still very early days for the site and so there are all sorts of ways in which it can go.

The next book

Considering the actual ‘next’ book has not actually been produced yet, to be planning one for 2016 is either an example of exceptional forward planning, or a shining example of hope trumping reality.
            However, I have a working title, ‘Structured Sense’ and I have added the first poem to its pages and I am already thinking about ideas for the few sequences that I think I would like to include.  One of my favourite quotations concerns ‘vaulting ambition’ – though I have always considered that it only applied to murdering Scottish pretenders than to my good self.
            ‘Flesh Can Be Bright’ continues to progress and, as far as I am concerned, my poems for that book are done.  I am now waiting on the work of others – but I also have a plan B to cope with any and all failures of contributions.  Though I am quietly confident that everything will work out in the end.
            I am now editing and redrafting and I reckon that will take me well up to May and then final decisions will have to be taken about the final appearance of the book.  You would think that self-publishing makes things a damn sight easier – and that self-delusion is what I am working on.  And I like the ambiguity of that statement!

OU hysteria

Even when, or perhaps especially when, we are a separated group of studiers, hysteria has a way of uniting us in one howling band of paranoia.  This is partly because the next few weeks are ones of concentrated work production with two pieces of tutor work having to be sent in.
            We have just had an on-line tutorial.  I do not know what some of my fellow students use as microphones, but some of them do not seem to have the same quality of reproduction of a tin with a piece of stretched string.  One of them sounded as though he was in a cardboard box surrounded by cotton wool.  And people don’t read the instructions and the information that they are given and, I am sounding like a teacher.  So I will stop.
            At least my tutor seems not only sympathetic to my general choice of topic for my mini thesis, but also sympathetic to my bending the rules a little to further my ideas.  This is positive.  I will reserve my relief until I get back my academic pro-forma and see exactly what comments my tutor makes for the next stage.
            I am lucky in being able (in theory) to see both of my paintings in London.  One, the Hockney, I will have check that it will be on display when I am able to get to the Tate.  I bloody well hope it is as I have built my ideas around seeing it again as a central part of my thesis.  The other painting is in a private collection and the owner has, very kindly, invited me to view the paintings when I am in London.  This could all work out very well, and I still have in mind the development of the ideas to link up with the exhibition in Leeds.  That would be a major achievement.  But that is for the future.  The immediate future is the writing of an outline of what I think I might be able to do.