Hello Everyone! Todays adventure is a little different.
I have a friend called Joey, who I went to college with. He's had a blog named after him before, and while we're not particularly close, he's now a professional film maker and I'm quite in awe of his work. Rumour also has it that Joey is an expert marksman, who has in the past shot bullets through bullet-sized holes in slightly larger moving bullets. The guy has talent.
Joey wanted to film a strong pseudo-blasphemous spoken word piece with his friend Evrah, who I rather amusingly misremembered the name of, calling her "Ezrah" throughout this entire blog post before seeing her pop up on my newsfeed, realise that I'd gotten it wrong, and hurriedly correct at the last minute. So if any "Ezrahs" slip into the narrative, that's why. I'm sorry. Also joining them was Dominika who worked with Joey on the film making side of things.
They wanted to film their spoken word piece in a church, but given that the piece was titled "If God were a woman," they were having a hard time finding a church that was willing to let them film. Eventually Joey must have said "I know a guy who might know a derelict church where we can do it," because he contacted me.
As it happened, I did have a church in mind that I hadn't yet visited but was on my to-do list. I told Joey about it, but my one condition was that I got a lift out to it with them.
As an added bonus, I decided to invite my buddy Jess along. She's into film making, and she has some great talent there. I thought mmmaybe if I get her and Joey in the same room together, they'll talk and she'll get a useful contact in that area.
The plan was beneficial to all- Jess could meet Joey, Evrah could irritate God, Joey and Dominika could make a gorgeous movie out of it, and I'd get to blog about a gorgeous chapel. Needless to say, I was excited.
Here's our gorgeous chapel. The two dates above the entrance tell that it was constructed in 1842 and that it was expanded in 1867, although it is in Welsh. It closed in 1999, and has sat here silently ever since.
The name of the blog post is a reference to the Welsh Colony of Patagonia, as it was here in this chapel that the decision to colonise a "Little Wales beyond Wales" was made. A notice, written in Welsh, tells words to this affect. My Welsh isn't brilliant, but I know "Ystafell" means "Room" and "Capel" means "Chapel." And then the date is self explantory. One doesn't need to be fluent in Welsh to get the gist of it. It basically says "In a room in this chapel in 1856, we decided to go live somewhere else. (Oh but we did come back on May 30 1965 to hang up this sign)."
Check out this chapel! It's bloody gorgeous!
Upon entering, Jess and I scurried off like Mungojerry and Rumpleteazer (but not as graceful), while the others set up and shot their thing.
The spoken word piece "If God were a woman" isn't really about religion at all, I don't think, but moreso about societal perceptions of women.
Which doesn't seem at all blasphemous on the surface, but when you consider that the bible literally says of rape "You must marry her, for you have violated her," it probably is. It's one of the reasons why I don't get along with religion. I don't trust any system that preaches people as property, much less one that bribes with forgiveness in exchange for compliance.
Still, I love architecture, and this chapel is definitely the prettiest derelict chapel I've ever seen. Its current condition shows a little wear and tear, but the fact that it's shut off from the world is something of a travesty. Especially given its historic significance.
So it was within these walls in 1856 that people met to discuss colonising an area across the Atlantic, where the Welsh language and culture could thrive. It seemed that descendants of Welsh people who had travelled to the USA were abandoning their heritage and language a lot faster than other cultures. There are rumours of Welsh-speaking Indians but that's another story. But fearing the eventual extinction of the Welsh language, this group spoke of making a colony where the influence and widespread use of the English language could be prevented.
Australia, New Zealand, and even Palestine were all considered, but Patagonia eventually became the location of choice, being a sparcely populated region of South America. It wasn't until 1862 that the ball started rolling though, when their spokesperson, Lewis Jones, set sail for Beunos Aires to discuss his plans with the government of Argentina.
The first settlers from Wales arrived in Patagonia in 1865, consisting of some 153 Welsh people, made up of 56 married adults, 33 single men, 12 single women to give it a gender ratio comparable to Tinder, and 52 children. Their professions consisted of tailors, cobblers, carpenters, bricklayers, miners, only one medical professional, and very few farmers, and this proved to be a real dampener on their day when they arrived and found that Patagonia had been widely exagerated in its suitability. Far from the perfect utopia for Welsh culture, it was in fact a bit of a desert. With no drinking water to be found near the sea, the entire group set about walking across an arid plain, with a single wheelbarrow to carry their belongings. Some died, and a baby was born, all during the migration. For many it was pretty disheartening.
Those that didnt die persevered and eventually the riverside town of Rawson was founded, named after an Argentinian Minister, Guillermo Rawson. Originally this was named Trerawson, to incorporate the Welsh word for "Town," which is "Tref." But this was eventually phased out, leaving us with Rawson.
So much for preserving the language.
A similar practice was put in place for the city of Trelew though, being an amalgamation of "Tref" and "Lewis," their original spokesperson. That particular city name does still endure to this day.
Check out this ceiling!
The settlers of Patagonia struggled with the climate, with the rainfall being less than they were expecting, killing their crops, but also quite severe floods that wiped out every house in Rawson in the first year, and then again in 1899. An irrigation system was designed to redirect the water from the river for the ourpose of growing food. As the small colony got onto its feet, it's estimated that some 1000 Welsh immigrants came to Patagonia between 1886 and 1911, although it's also estimated that by 1910 about 400 people had given up on the dream, and had left for Canada or Australia.
There were further complications, such as tension between the Welsh and the native Tehuelche people, and also the Argentinians who saw them as second-class citizens.
But then during the First World War, immigration to Patagonia ceased, but other settlers arrived from Italy and other parts of Europe, once again making Welsh the minority language. By the 1950s, the colony abandoned the Welsh Eisteddfod festival, and the Welsh language was spoken only at home. But in 1965, having endured for a full century, there was a resurgence of interest in their culture, and the Argentinian government started to see the presence of an obscure tongue in Patagonia as a valuable tourist attraction.
And so the colony endured, and Welsh is still spoken in Patagonia to this day. The Eisteddfod festival was revived, but now bilingual in Spanish as well as Welsh. Many towns and locations in the area have Welsh names too, but what really interests me is the impact that Argentina has had on the Welsh tongue. We see variations in Wales just between the North and South, and we also have Welsh words that are clearly influenced by English. As such Patagonian Welsh also has its variations. These variations are comparable to how English varies in America- A conversation can still be had between a Welsh person from Wales and a Patagonian colonist, but there are areas of difference. There's also at least one Welsh word unique to Patagonia, "Costio" which derives from the Spanish "Costar,"
Back in the church, on a rather morbid note, we found a couple of expired avians, as well as one or two live ones flapping around. I'm not entirely sure why pigeons roost in areas where there are other dead pigeons. Surely there's some aspect of natural instinct, even in primitive species, that makes a creature think "Oh, there's loads of dead examples of my species here. Maybe it's not a safe place to settle down for the night." But no, pigeons just see a bunch of corpses and think "Vacancy!"
The bible still sits up on the altar.
But never one to only see the parts that were once publically accessible, Jess and I headed through the back door and downstairs.
Still cleaner than the toilets in some pubs and clubs.
There was this really curious back room though, which looks as though someone has been spending time here. Given that the property did sell in an auction in 2014, it's entirely possible that the new owner is making use of this space, even if the chapel isn't yet being fixed up.
I'm going to assume that the owner is a spiritual person, or a muslim. This could be a muslim prayer mat, but I actually don't think so. The two cushions on either side are more indicative of two people sitting and meditating.
Down in what I assume was once a crypt, things get very labyrinthian, but there's so much to be found down here!
Is this a vintage camera thing, with a film reel?
There's a little room with a pool table.
Some kind of art installation.
I since learned that the owner was planning on turning the chapel into some kind of community centre, which I'm actually really happy about. I would hate for such a pretty place to get massacred and turned into flats.
This chair is unusual, although it doesn't look so at a glance. However, it is a car seat fixed to an office chairs wheels.
An old coal shute.
And look! Some vintage graffiti! Who knows when this dates back to? Iorweth is probably the Welshiest name I've ever come across.
There's a small rock of amethyst here, which does support the idea that the owner is quite spiritual, given that crystals are quite a common aspect of that. Amethyst derives its name from Greek. "A" means "Not," and "Methyo" means intoxication. It was believed that wearing amethyst jewelry would prevent one from getting drunk. I think in modern spirituality, amethyst is known for being quite calming, reducing stress, and headache relief.
I have a huge rock of this in my house actually, and I have yet to blow my brains out, so there might be some truth to that.
Moving on from the cellar, we found this rear courtyard which looked like it might have had a fire at some point.
Curiously there's a stage buried under all this rubble, with the curtain draped over the beams.
I've tried to find information on this area, so see what kind of shows were once performed on this stage, but the internet mostly wants to talk about Patagonia, which is fair enough. The fact that this chapel was the launchpad for an entire overseas colony of Welsh speakers is quite cool.
Maps from the 1800s show that this area was actually indoors, and definitely connected to the actual chapel. What it was used for is anyones guess. Nativity plays? Illuminati meetings? Orgies?
If the Illuminati were involved, it could have been all three at the same time.
There's a safe here, curiously unopened.
And here's a wheel.
Frankly I find this stage area to be wheelie strange...
Yeah that was awful. But still, it's odd that the main chapel is almost immaculate while the stage area is a wreck. I wonder what happened. I can't find any news on any fires at the chapel. I guess it's a mystery.
That's all I have for the blog, but before I go, I wanted to show Evrahs video.
Personally, spoken word pieces and poetry aren't my thing, but there is passion behind Evrah's words, and a good message, and that's whats important.
That's all I have for this chapel. Next time I'm back in Shropshire, writing in the original blog, Shrewsbury from whee you are not. I've got a weird curiosity of ancient Shropshire intrigue followed by a derelict pub. In the meantime, follow my Instagram, Like my Facebook and Follow my Twitter. And feel free to share the blog wherever you want. Social medias fucking us all at the moment. For some reason hitting "Follow" doesn't always mean you'll see someones stuff.
Thanks for reading!
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