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Cwrs Cymraeg Bro Boston, 1989
On Sunday, July 30, 1989, about 100 students of all ages (well, from age 6 to 86 or so) gathered on the pleasant campus of the Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge, Massachusetts to start our thirteenth Cwrs Cymraeg. Two of those attending, Tom Reilly of New York and Larry Williams of Baltimore, had been to every one but the first, rounding out a substantial dozen. In all, students came from over 20 states and 2 Canadian provinces.
Our classrooms, luckily, were air-conditioned. Our sleeping quarters were not. But we managed very well, for the activities of each day brought a benevolent fatigue conducive to gentle sluber on confortable beds. We were treated very well by the staff in the dining room, who served good food with a smile.
There seemed to be an especially good spirit – ysbryd – this year, marked by harmony and lack of tension. There was plenty of work, almost too much, but it was no arduous chore to tackle it. Our teachers are a special breed – a happy breed who like their work. It was my own good fortune to be yn nosbarth Robert Owen Jones, and I learned many new things, revived some dormant knowledge and recharged the batteries of Cymric enthusiasm. I also marvelled at the talent of the young students who had not been studying Welsh very long, but had learned a lot. Professor Jones gave evidence of possessing a vast store of knowledge and wisdom, and we were fortunate to have contact with him every day, even for a brief week.
It was a pleasure to have Nesta Jones, Robert Owen’s wife, on the teaching staff. In addition to her work in the dosbarth, she conducted an afternoon workshop for a reading group. We were also delighted by the presence of three of the Jones children, Lowri, Luned and Dafydd; two others, of university age, were away.
Cefin Campbell, in addition to all his other commitments, was the lead teacher of the course, and he was a very capable and efficient one. His pedagogical skill is something I have long admired.
In choosing an afternoon workshop to attend, I was faced with an embarassment of riches, for all were tempting: drama, penillion singing, papur bro, linguistics, etc., etc. But I chose Hefina Phillips’ advanced reading group and am happy to have done so. Hefina can read complicated literature at several levels almost instinctively, revealing to her students the art of a creative author and, in her close reading, underlining the marks of his or her genius. She is priceless.
Our teachers were doubtless overworked. They gave us more in a week than some professors I have known dispense in a term. Robert Owen Jones, for instance, in addition to the daily class and afternoon workshops, gave a fascinating lecture on the Welsh language and culture in Patagonia, based on his successive stays there. He also participated in the gwasanaeth, our chapel service on Sunday.
Delyth Campbell, wife of Cefin, was another asset to our teaching staff and contributed an interesting lecture on Welsh courting customs to the dosbarth ar y cyd, as well as gracing many of the events of the week, including the panel discussion on Wales – a sobering occasion to those concerned about the language.
Greville James, a man whose versatilitiy knows no bounds, had, besides his class, more functions than one can reasonably expect from one person. He was the skilled “caller” at the twmpath dawns; he spoke effectively on the Welsh folktale at the dosbarth ar y cyd; and he was an incomparable master of ceremonies at the eisteddfod.