Being back in my birthplace of Rhondda Valley, Wales was always going to be an interesting place for me during this journey. Back in the Land of My Fathers - Mae Hen Wlad Fy Nhadau. One of the most difficult things we can try to do is to appreciate those things that are familiar to us. Familiarity tends to breed indifference; it takes much effort to appreciate those things that we are allowed to take for granted. Familiarity comes from the same linguistic geneology as family; again, those people who feed us with unending love without seeking reward - we seem to have no obligation to thank them for their efforts.
Only perhaps when we realise how rare this form of true love is between humans can we hope to fully appreciate it.
Same, perhaps then, with familiar surroundings. Although finding them here is difficult after such a lengthy gap of absence - my three schools have all been demolished, the church in which my parents were married has also been razed. Old stone Victorian buildings built to last forever, have been flattened for the land they occupy, and with progress history can be lost if we are not careful.
The Rhondda Valley has a vast and pock-marked past. There have been remains of Neolithic people found here. The Roman Empire camped here during its pomp. The hulking green mountains brought much food and shelter for those who were able to live off the land for untold centuries, until that land was carved up and cleavered for coal. Once black diamonds had been unearthed the fresh water rivers that ran down to Cardiff turned the colour of oil as coal slag washed downstream.
Familiarity begs us to take much for granted, but we shouldn't. We should instead at least try to view these wonders as precious and as rare as they are, to treasure them as if seeing them for the first time.
Only perhaps when we realise how rare this form of true love is between humans can we hope to fully appreciate it.
Same, perhaps then, with familiar surroundings. Although finding them here is difficult after such a lengthy gap of absence - my three schools have all been demolished, the church in which my parents were married has also been razed. Old stone Victorian buildings built to last forever, have been flattened for the land they occupy, and with progress history can be lost if we are not careful.
The Rhondda Valley has a vast and pock-marked past. There have been remains of Neolithic people found here. The Roman Empire camped here during its pomp. The hulking green mountains brought much food and shelter for those who were able to live off the land for untold centuries, until that land was carved up and cleavered for coal. Once black diamonds had been unearthed the fresh water rivers that ran down to Cardiff turned the colour of oil as coal slag washed downstream.
Familiarity begs us to take much for granted, but we shouldn't. We should instead at least try to view these wonders as precious and as rare as they are, to treasure them as if seeing them for the first time.
1 comment:
Carlos you truly have a gift for writing and one day your talent will be recognised and you will be rewarded for your hard work. I love reading about your trip around the world - you make it seem so real and I feel that I am experiencing the sights and sounds as you are. Regards Maria
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