I Don't Sprechen Ze Lingo O' The Valleys

I've just watched Pobol Y Cym for the first time. Goodness only knows why. Maybe somewhere in the back of my head I've been secretly itching to get into Wales' number one (and probably only one) soap opera, maybe I wanted to hear the beautiful sound of the language of Cymraeg spoken in all its fluency, or maybe I was just clicking around BBC iPlayer on an idle Wednesday afternoon with a cup of tea and thinking "I'm so bored, I'll watch anything". Then again, it was probably an amalgamation of all three. For the passive, the ignorant, and the not-at-all interested amongst you, Pobol Y Cym (or "People of the Valley") is, well I've already mentioned it... It's a Welsh soap opera, made in Wales, set in Wales, spoken in Welsh, it's essentially what Eastenders could've been if it had been made in Abergavenny.

Unlike Eastenders, though, the majority of the Pobol are really old and live in a village consisting of a single row of independently owned shops, the obligatory pub, and 7,000 acres of field. On the flipside, there's the younger generation of characters; these are the people who are about 25, focus more on personal relationships rather than traditional values, and manage to slip borrowed words seamlessly into a Welsh-packed conversation. It gets a bit odd listening to what is essentially gibberish to these ears (as I don't sprechen ze lingo o' the valleys) and being suddenly curveballed by the mention of "Facebook", "mobiles", and "chocolate". All in all, the whole thing looked like an episode of Emmerdale got smooshed together with an episode of Hollyoaks, and the whole thing was directed by Enya.

After a good 84 seconds of this, I managed to cotton on to the little "S" at the bottom of the iPlayer frame and realised that, with English subtitles, I too could understand what the Welsh-speakers understand, although to be honest I only ended up coming away from that episode even more confused than if I'd just watched a lop-sided donkey being pulled around on a skateboard to Madonna's "Like A Virgin" for 20 minutes straight. As it turns out, character Meic (pronounced "Mike") ended up walking out on his wife after she had an affair, and decided to pack his entire life into a single travel-size suitcase, pop it in the back of a taxi and start his new life as a hedgehog with a permanently bemused expression on his face like he should've gone to Specsavers or something (which, incidentally, he should have). All the while, as a newly engaged young couple talk about the English words for hotel, honeymoon and Manhattan, their friend shows up fresh from the Fake Tan, Wotsits and Sunny Delight factory, breaks into their house and steals a single bottle of champagne.

Oddly enough, as much as it didn't really go anywhere and I struggled to keep up with what was going on (heck, I even read the subtitles out loud in a Welsh accent to try following it whilst keeping an air of authenticity), I feel like I've now fallen victim to the nature of many soap operas: there was no particular cliffhanger or hook for the next episode, yet somehow I want to keep watching these people to see where valley life takes them next.

The urge shouldn't be too bad to overcome, though. Like I said, the show is essentially half-Hollyoaks and I'll be amazed if I ever sit through a whole episode of that ever again.