Annette. Dave.
I’ve always been impressed by people who could speak other languages. I’ve never managed it massell. I reckon my brain isn’t wired that way. I regularly come into into contact with a number of nationalities – Polish, Chilean, Spanish, Norwegian, Dutch, English – and I can always make myself understood (talking louder seems to help
). But don’t ask me to speak their words, the glesca tongue jist wulnae dae it!
When I announced to folk that I was moving up to the Highlands someone gave me a set of tapes called ‘Can Seo’. Come to think of it, it was Alan’s mum. Remember Alan from the Echo 6 stories? Well, ‘Can Seo’ (I think that’s how it was spelt) was based on a BBC TV programme teaching us Lowlanders how to speak The Gaelic. It was full of stuff like ‘Is this the right road to Aberdeen?’ and ‘Morag has a bun in the oven’ and ‘Hamish is breaking in a new sporran for Dougall’. Well maybe not those exact phrases you understand, but the tapes are up in the attic somewhere and there’s no way I’m going up there tonight without a sherpa escort!
The thing is, I spent the first couple weeks driving around the northwest coast listening to these tapes and talking absolute jibberish to myself! Then one night, I walked into a group of native gaelic speakers in a rather rough Stornoway pub. Not only were they not interested in Morag’s bun, but they made it quite clear that glesca blokes taking the mickey out of their native tongue was NOT appreciated! It cost me a few Glenmorangies tae get oot a that wan ah kin tell ye!
Davie,
That’s a cracker! On a chair ye say? Hmmm.
Bob.
