My traveling buddy Marissa and I were nursing our pints by the bar in the small Welsh town of Caernerfon when the pub door opened, and three young Welshmen came storming into the smoky room. Being regular Canadian girls, we tried to appear as nonchalant as possible (as if strapping UK studs were just old news) as the loudest of the lot picked up Marissa’s jacket from the floor and said, “Oy, did you drop this then?”

How could two foreign girls resist such a witty pick-up line? We soon joined the guys at their table, expecting drinks, laughs, and good-times to come. Unexpectedly, we got something else–a peek into the real Wales–as well.

Al, Owain and Wheet are all from towns in North Wales. They all went to the University of Bangor (like a Penn State), spend most of their time either in or thinking about the pub, and speak the ancient language of Welsh. And they’re damn proud of it too.

“What do you do when you ask a shopkeeper for something in Welsh, and he doesn’t understand you?” Marissa asked. Owain smiled slyly, and responded “Ask again in Welsh!”

Since Wales was overtaken by England over 700 years ago, the language has been steadily losing ground. By the 60s, it was spoken only by the old people, and seemed destined for the history books. However, the language experienced a dramatic turnaround during the Welsh version of the hippie era, which wasn’t about flower-power but Cymraeg (the Welsh word for Welsh) revival. The Welsh tongue went from nearly-dead to in-vogue–Welsh is the new black.

“If you’re young, and you’re not bloody lazy, you’ll be wanting to speak Welsh,” Al said.

He’s right. In all the pubs we went to, the air was buzzing with Cymraeg–spoken not by the elderly, but by the young. English has definitely made its mark–there are no modern Welsh curse words, for example–but Welsh is here to stay.

“If the word is rubbish, it’s in English. If it’s worthwhile, it’s in Welsh,” Wheet said.

Of course, they can all speak fluent English, and most of the TV shows, music, and books they enjoy are in the language of the Saesneg (English) But to them it is a necessary evil.

“We’re like you lot,” Owain told us (meaning Canadian, as Marissa and I are). “We take and enjoy the good bits, and leave them the shite. Charlotte Church, for example, they can keep. So we get the best of both worlds.”

Owain, who is the host of a daily Welsh radio show, attributes his language’s success to the fierce nationalism and pride of his people. He and his friends could spout the names of medieval Welsh princes like they were modern football stars, and their passion for Welsh history strengthened their commitment to the preservation of the language.

When Marissa and I said goodbye to the guys late that night, we invited them to come visit us in Canada. They laughed and told us they’d think about it, but the truth was obvious: Welsh-born and Welsh-bred, their homeland holds all the adventure they need.

A week later, sitting bored at work in Vancouver, I tuned in on-line to Owain’s radio show and was overcome with shivers. Sure, his accent already makes my knees go weak, but this was something else. There he sat, thousands of miles away, laughing about celebrities, talking about the traffic, cracking average jokes–all in Welsh. Hearing Owain’s show drove home for me the power and permanence of the Welsh language.

I’ve heard too many stories recently about dying languages, cultures and traditions. Don’t get me wrong- I like globalization as much as the next world citizen. I understand the many benefits that come from living in a giant melting pot. That said, there is something exciting about the unlikely survival of one ancient language that has managed to outlive centuries of bloody battle, hundreds of years of oppression, and even 15 years of the Internet.

Wherever Al, Owain, and Wheet are right now, I owe them a debt that extends beyond a couple of pints and cigarettes. Diolch (thanks).

Aria S. K. Laskin ’08, a history and literature concentrator in Cabot House, is a magazine editor of The Crimson. She is spending her summer in countries where she can legally drink, and fears her return to puritanical America.