How to be Welsh
in Wales
by Neil Ferguson
I am in a
strong position to give helpful advice to those
who live in Wales but are not 100 percent Welsh.
Perhaps you were born in England or have an
English parent. In these unfortunate situations
lying is the best policy but take care that a
visiting relative is not overheard saying ‘Cor
blimey mate, it ain’t as wet as this in
Romford’. Claiming that your father was a
miner from the Rhondda when he is a chartered
accountant in Cheltenham is playing a dangerous
game.
Please
remember that rugby in Wales is not a game: it’s
part of Welsh culture apparently. It does not
matter that you are overweight, middle-aged or so
thin that the wind could blow you over, you
should go to a supermarket on match days wearing
a Welsh rugby shirt. Call for an assistant and
demand to know the origin of the sprouts. The
answer is likely to be Romania or Lithuania or
somewhere you have never heard of. This gives you
the opportunity to say in a loud voice, ‘Thank
you. I just wanted to make sure they weren’t
English’. If you can afford it, buy a shirt
for every rugby-playing nation in the world
except England and wear an appropriate one in the
pub whenever the England team is playing. If you
are not sure which continent or hemisphere your
shirt is from don’t give this a second
thought.
Many Welsh
people are fluent in two languages and in the
National Botanic Gardens, the plants are labelled
with their country of origin in English and Welsh.
You will find a plaque with, for example, the
word ‘Chile’ and underneath it will say
‘Chile’. The Welsh have gone to the
expense of writing everything in two languages
even when the words are the same. When confronted
by baffled German tourists who want an
explanation, you should not get involved. Just
say, ‘Why don’t you ask the manager?’
It is
difficult to learn the Welsh National Anthem. At
rugby matches, you can employ delaying tactics
until the crowd sings ‘Gwlad, gwlad pleidiol
wyf I’m gwlad’ which you can sing with
gusto. ‘My hen laid a haddock way under a
tree’ is a fair approximation to the first
line and will get you underway until you drop
your programme so that you can search for it on
the floor. Don’t let the television camera
catch you singing “La La La” in one of
the tricky bits.
Before I left
Swansea, I visited a Welsh friend. ‘Good
luck Boyo,’ he said. ‘You’ll be
raising the IQ of both nations.’ Do not
counter clever anti-English jokes with crude
comments about sheep and leisure centres. It
would be letting the side down.
I asked a
colleague if he ever thought of himself as
British. His answer was, ‘Over my dead body!’
It struck me
that this might not be the best way to answer
when the question is asked by the heavily armed
men at a border post or the customs official with
the rubber gloves. Telling them that you have
supported their rugby team will not dissuade them
from frog-marching you behind a screen.
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