No comprende

I am walked into a classroom of children and shown a seat, the lady speaks English, then she goes to the front of the classroom and speaks Welsh to the rest of the class. I hear my name in what she says and the whole room turns round to look at me. Now i crawl into that big black hole that has appeared in front of me as you do when faced with a wall of embarrassment. After a few minutes i think the curiosity for the children passed away and its back to business in the classroom. They all have books , me too now, not that i can read them, they are all in welsh and not a word of English is spoken. Great, i am back in Chris world , silent world , do i open my mouth for fear of what i say and how it will be taken world, so no I’ll sit here in my quiet place and wait and see. Well i am in a classroom of children and not able to say a word to any of them or understand what they say to me.

Playtime is over.

Break time comes and i go for the bottle of free milk that every child had before Margaret Thatcher stopped it for all us lactose lovers and i suppose i hide away in a corner, shy and somewhat nervous. Well the day passes and the odd word from the teacher is spoken to me in English and i am told she will help me learn to speak welsh. In real terms i am now the dunce of the class the backward one. But with everything else i have had to deal with in my small amount of years it will just be one more hurdle to jump over and i have done it before and will do again. I think that had become my way , sit and study others , mimic and like a chameleon just fit in. School time ends and back on the mini bus i get, i am glad this day is over, the bus does not take me to my grandmothers but up the forestry road to where the caravan is and out i get with all these faces from the bus window looking. I bet they all live in houses and wonder why is he being dropped off here. Back down the road the bus goes with a cloud of dust behind it and now i feel better , the dogs come to greet me wagging tales as usual. Then into the caravan , where my fathers wife is as usual, either cooking or sowing and listening to the radio, waiting for my father and her son to arrive back from wherever they go to during the day. She asks me how school was , i explain i don’t know what people are saying and she says it will get better. Should i have guessed there and then that i was on no holiday at all, years later i realise that this secluded place i had been brought to in Wales was really where it all began, so back to the beginning i suppose a new chapter had began, back to my roots and new places and people to explore. Yet as always it wouldn’t be the end there were always for me new beginnings.

The day after the next

What did tomorow bring, well it brought more of the same , playing in the river and the forest , no school, no beach or ice cream still but holiday all the same. Into the car and a small ride down the forest road along a small valley and into a grey village with small windy roads and not many people walking about, but there were people the first ones i had seen since arriving in wales. On thru the village and up a hill to a row of cottages and the car stops. We are at grandma’s house i am told. So ut we get and into this white cottage over looking a field with a massive river beyond that. I meet my grandmother. a very tall slim lady with jet black hair also and an older man her brother, scarey looking man, when i recall he reminds me of albert steptoe the same scruffy appearance and manner. Well this is my other family and more is too come , my fathers sister and her children. Once again i cant understand a word, everything is in welsh and getting louder as the voices all join in. All the children go outside and then later we are called in for tea. When will this holiday end, when do i go back to kent to my mum, brother and sister, to be honest i dont want to, im happy, im free, no shouting or screaming , no smacks or fear of saying or doing the wrong thing, all i know is when it gets dark its tea and bedtime, apart from that it is play , play, play. But where does my father go everyday till dark , where does he work, does Andrew go to school as he goes with my father sometimes, but i dont ponder too hard. I am having fun after all for the first time in ages , i have two more friends as well , the two dogs to keep me company, they follow me everywhere and every now and then a voice calls from the caravan that some food or a drink is ready. Do i want to go back to Kent, no and i dread the day as im waiting for it, but that day never comes, one week , two weeks, still no bag being packed. Another day, another play , then one morning im am told to walk to my grandmothers  and wait to be picked up, still no bag packed, am i going home, no im not i am told , im going to school. I waitand along the road comes a little blue mini bus, full of children, in i go and the bus goes quiet, me thinking who are these children and them thinking who is this boy. Off down the road we set and a few minutes later pull into the school yard full of childrens voices. Playtime is over, now the real hard work begins.