A chara, - A Dublin-born Australian came into our shop the other day to practise his cupla focal. He left Dublin 35 years ago, when he was 12 years old, with all sorts of prejudices against our "compulsory" Irish education system.
As he settled in Canberra, he was amazed at the intense pride of other emigrants in their native language and national identity. He decided to learn Irish - attending a Gaelic class every week. He spoke of his pride in leading the St Patrick's Day Parade last year and his immense sense of identity caused by the great interest in our Irish music (Clannad in particular), by the popularity of the Australian-Gaelic Games series, by the great strides of our Celtic Tiger and the stunning performances of Riverdance. After 35 years he decided to take a trip home to his native Dublin to witness the transformation for himself.
His first setback came when he rang the Irish Embassy in Canberra to be greeted by a recording: "This is the Embassy of Ireland in Australia - we are sorry we cannot deal with your query ..." No "Cead Mile Failte".
When he visited the embassy to make an enquiry regarding the Irish version of his name on his passport, the assistant told him that she did not speak any Gaelic and could not help him. "I can advise you on investment in Ireland, on setting up an industry there, on plane connections, on accommodation. But sorry, "mite", the Irish language does not fall into our remit."
He looked forward so much to his trip home after 35 years. Surely in our new-found affluence, our old prejudices would have vanished. The language would no longer be the badge of poverty that it had been since the Famine.
Imagine his consternation when he went into the GPO - the cradle of our Revolution - went up to the counter marked "Labhartar Gaeilg Anseo" and proudly asked the assistant: "Ce mhead ata stampa do charda chun na hAustraile?", to be greeted with the ignorant, dismissive remark, "We don't understand that language here."
"It is beyond belief. We must be the only race in God's creation who will cheerfully jettison the badge of our national identity - our language," said he dejectedly. "What can be done to save our language, amid apathy and disinterest by Government, church and national TV and press?" he asked me. I was speechless.
"The only remedy for the restoration of Irish," he suggested, "is to get the Government to re-introduce the tally-stick in our schools and introduce legislation making it an offence to speak Irish - punishable by a long term of imprisonment." The Australian and his family have now headed back home, somewhat disillusioned. - Is mise,
Eanna Mac Cuinneagain, Cathach Books, Duke Street, Dublin 2.