About Martin Eayrs

San Martín de los Andes, Neuquén, Argentina This blog is an occasional dumping/sharing ground for random thoughts and ideas, mainly relating to birding, photography, travel, the English language and the teaching thereof and assorted verse and doggerel. I am a retired teacher/lecturer and now work as a language and education consultant with an interest in evaluation and testing, quality assessment and moderation. I divide my time between homes and families in San Martín de los Andes, Patagonia and Manchester, UK.

The Welsh in Patagonia …

In Patagonia Welsh is spoken with a Spanish lilt, and the guitar and the asado, the gaucho and the siesta are part and parcel of Welsh Argentine culture.

Conception and settlement

Let me take you back in time, to the early 1800’s. In the Welsh heartlands industry is developing and rural communities are slowly beginning to fragment. We are well into the Industrial Revolution, with its constant demands for coal, slate, iron and steel. Wales was a natural provider of these, and as such it was felt by many that the country was gradually being absorbed into England. This was not what all Welsh people wanted, and the minds of some turned to thoughts of a new start in a new world.

In fact, Welsh emigrants had already attempted to set up Welsh speaking colonies overseas but had had great difficulty in retaining their cultural identity. This was because they had tried in English speaking communities – mainly in the US – where they came under pressure to use the English language and adopt the ways of another emerging industrial culture. Inevitably, these new immigrants soon became fully assimilated into the American way of life, losing their language and culture in the process. This was not what many were looking for.

Enter a certain Michael Jones, an ordained minister who had lived in the United States for two years and formed a vision of establishing an ‘independent’ Welsh settlement, free from English and American influences.  He –and his followers– believed that their language, religion and way of life were being oppressed by the English ruling class, and he invested a large amount of time and money in a new ‘Patagonian project’.

Michael Jones had been in touch with the Argentine government about the possibility of settling an area in Patagonia where Welsh immigrants would be able to preserve their language, culture and traditions.  Granting such a request suited the Argentine government well, as this would put them in control of a large tract of land which was then the subject of dispute with their Chilean neighbours. This was within the framework of the great European immigration, which colonized Argentina and other countries in the second half of the nineteenth century. But the Argentine government were not so keen on relinquishing ownership of the land, as we shall see.

A Welsh emigration committee met in Liverpool and published a handbook, Llawlyfr y Wladfa, to publicise the Patagonian scheme. The handbook was widely distributed throughout Wales, and also in North America. The first group of would-be settlers consisted originally of nearly two hundred people mustered from all over Wales, but mainly from north and mid-Wales. 

After delays which led to the loss or withdrawal of many potential settlers, a reduced group sailed from Liverpool on 28 May 1865 aboard the tea-clipper Mimosa. The group consisted by then of about 150 passengers, almost a third of whom were children. Quite a few of this final group came from the industrial areas of Mountain Ash and Aberdare, and only a minority came from agricultural communities. This first contingent included a schoolmaster, preachers, a builder, a doctor and not a few quarrymen and coal miners.

Model of the clipper Mimosa, property of the Merseyside Welsh Heritage Society

After a difficult, eight-week voyage, the settlers set foot on Patagonian soil at what is today Porth Madryn on 28 July 1865. The Mimosa set off on its return to London and the small emigrant group remained in New Bay for a few weeks before travelling another thirty miles to the Chubut Valley, the place that was to become their new home. They had with them “a few hundred sheep, a herd of wild cattle which could not be milked, barely enough provisions for six weeks (and acquired on credit) and some planks to protect them from the rains and the icy winds of mid-winter”. 

The early days

The settlers soon found that Patagonia was not the milk and honey land they had been encouraged to expect. They had been sold the idea of green and fertile valleys, like the lowlands of Wales, but found instead a barren and inhospitable windswept steppe, with no water, scant food and no trees that could provide building materials for shelter. 

They found caves in the white, soft tosca rocks, in which the women and children lived for the first six weeks, while the men went in search of the Chubut valley, walking in small bands. Some lost their way and had miraculous escapes from death, but at last they found an old earth fort on the banks of the Chubut River, built by a hunting expedition some years earlier, and it is thought they may have decided to build a village of mud huts there, calling it Caer Antur (Fort Adventure).

They did receive life-saving help from the native Teheulches, who tried to teach the settlers how to survive on the scant resources of the prairie. Nevertheless, the colony looked as if it were doomed to failure, from the lack of food and scarcity of water alone. But the settlers persevered and it was here that the first permanent settlement of Rawson was established at the end of 1865.

The colony suffered badly in those early years. Floods, poor harvests and disagreements over the ownership of land were discouraging enough, but additionally the lack of a direct route to the ocean made it difficult to bring in new supplies. Political infighting between the settlers and their leaders –and deteriorating support and encouragement from the Argentine Government– inflamed a difficult situation. But a major breakthrough was to save them, when in November 1867 the settlers realised that the land could be irrigated by diverting water from the Chubut River.  This was the life-changing event that saved the colony.

One of the countless irrigation ditches that keep the Chubut valley so fertile

New settlers began to arrive from both Wales and Pennsylvania, and by the end of 1874 the settlement had a population totalling over 270. With the arrival of these keen and fresh hands, new irrigation channels were dug along the length of the Chubut valley, and a patchwork of farms began to emerge along a thin strip on either side of the River Chubut. In 1875 the Argentine government granted the Welsh settlers official title to the land. A bright future seemed to beckon for the Welsh Settlers.

By 1875 the population of the Settlement had increased to 300 and this figure reached 2200 in 1895. Although the figures never met the expectations of the organisers, this was the heyday of the Welsh in Patagonia. It was a period of intense activity which saw the development of a railway line, the construction of an irrigation system, and the exploration of surrounding lands. In the late 1880s, a group of explorers known as the rifleros, under the leadership of Colonel Fontana, established new settlements on the other side of the continent, at Esquel and Trevelín in the foothills of the Andes.

There was further substantial immigration from Wales during the periods 1880-87, and also 1904-12, again mainly due to depression within the coalfields. The settlers had seemingly achieved their utopia, with Welsh speaking schools and chapels; even the language of local government was Welsh.

In the few decades since the settlers had arrived, they had transformed the inhospitable scrub-filled semi-dessert into one of the most fertile and productive agricultural areas in the whole of Argentina and had expanded their territory into the foothills of the Andes. They were transporting high quality wheat to the Atlantic coast and thence to European markets, winning prizes for the quality of the grain and earning money for the communities. 

The writing on the wall …

But this good beginning was not to continue. From the late 1880s there was a decline in the number of settlers arriving from Wales.  In 1899 the River Chubut burst its banks and flooded the Valley. And at the turn of the century there was a change in attitude from the Argentine government, who stepped in to impose direct rule on the colony. This brought the speaking of Welsh at local government level and in the schools to an abrupt end. The Welsh utopian dream of Michael D Jones appeared to be disintegrating.

Disheartened by this turn of events, many of the settlers considered moving elsewhere. In 1902, nearly 250 people abandoned the Welsh Settlement to establish a new home in Canada. Others moved to other parts of Patagonia, such as Choele-Choel and Valle Hermoso. Some efforts were made to sustain Welsh culture in Patagonia. Eluned Morgan organised a mobile library and opened a Welsh school in Gaiman in 1906. However, the last group of Welsh people to emigrate to Patagonia arrived at Madryn in November 1911.

Bod Iwan, one of the oldest Welsh farms still standing in the Chubut valley

For the region of Chubut, the mid-twentieth century was a period of steady economic development. Although the flow of immigrants from Wales had virtually ceased, people of various cultural backgrounds migrated to the region from other parts of Argentina. The Welsh community was now a minority, and it was increasingly exposed to the influence of other cultures. As the first generation of Welsh settlers passed, the sense of connection between Wales and Patagonia was weakened. The amount of Welsh literature produced in the Settlement was in decline and few Eisteddfodau were held in the second quarter of the century.

Revival 

Today the Welsh settlements in Argentina have reached their sixth and seventh generations. While many individuals who identify as ‘Welsh’ currently live in modern town houses, when I first arrived in Argentina in the 1970s, I remember many telling me they had been born and raised on small independent chacras, living the challenges and labour generally associated with an agricultural lifestyle and relying on horses or horse-drawn carts for transportation until relatively recently. I particularly remember a woman born in 1954 telling me that she rode to school every day on horseback until she was ten years old.

The celebration of the centenary of the settlement in 1965 brought increased contact with Wales. Argentine government policies have shifted, moving away from assimilation towards cultural diversity, and fostering a newfound appreciation for the pioneering role played by Welsh settlers. Recent years have consequently witnessed a notable resurgence of local interest in Welsh language and culture.

A small Welsh chapel, one of many scattered through the valley.

Today Chubut mirrors Wales but it is not Wales. Despite the pride and support for Welsh-Argentine cultural activities, most Argentines of Welsh descent will first assert their Argentine identity. Welsh-Argentine culture, while a hybrid in some respects, is fundamentally Argentine, not Welsh. One instance of Welsh traditions adapting to a distinct cultural context can be seen in the “chairing of the bard” ceremony. While participants in the National Eisteddfod of Wales don quasi-druidic robes, their Patagonian counterparts don blue ponchos.

Summary

Their aim was to recreate Wales in Patagonia, but they ultimately failed, partly due to the Argentine government’s policy of assimilation; partly because Welsh immigrant numbers never reached the critical mass necessary for Chubut to become a self-governing, Welsh-speaking province; and perhaps partly because this is the eventual fate of all such colonisation projects. As the Scots say, the porridge only lasts to the third generation.

Due to the markedly different social, cultural, and geographical context the culture of the settlers began to diverge from that of their hosts even in the early years, and this divergence was only to intensify with each successive generation. As tends to happen with global immigration the allure of the new country becomes overwhelming. Immigrant communities eventually and inevitably adapt to their new context 

Ironically the long survival of the Welsh language in Patagonia, now struggling to survive, only emphasises that inevitability, because Welsh is now spoken there by people who regard themselves as Argentines, and not Welsh. And yet they are Welsh-Argentines, and proud of both heritages.

Footnote

Since 1997, the Welsh Language Project (WLP) has been promoting and developing the Welsh language in the Chubut region of Patagonia, Argentina. Every year three Language Development Officers from Wales spend from March to December teaching in Patagonia. They develop the language in the Welsh speaking communities through both formal teaching and informal social activities. There is also a permanent Teaching Co-ordinator from Wales based in Patagonia who is responsible for the quality of teaching.

This project is funded by the Welsh Government, the Wales Argentina Society (Cymdeithas Cymru-Ariannin) and British Council Wales and is part of the International Education Programme. In Argentina the Chubut provincial government, while not providing direct funding, has supported the teaching of Welsh and the wider Welsh community.

The growth of the Welsh Language Project in Chubut, from adults only to children, has led the local communities to consider a more formal way of keeping the language alive. Since 2005 Welsh-Spanish bilingual schools have appeared in Trelew (Ysgol yr Hendre), Gaiman (Ysgol Gymraeg y Gaiman) and Trevelin (Ysgol y Cwm). While the schools have to be auto financed (there is no model for bilingual education in Chubut) they do receive some help from the British Council and are always happy to welcome teachers from Wales who bring their expertise with them.

© Martin Eayrs, 2023

Chile and Chiloe Nov/Dec 2023: Day 2

Left Aluminé after a leisurely breakfast, driving slowly up to Villa Pehuenia. The name comes from the Mapudungdun word ‘pehuén’, denoting the araucaria (monkey-puzzle) tree. As I got closer to Villa Penuenia these were increasingly in evidence.

The seeds of the pehuén tree. known as ‘piñones’, are a staple food for the indigenous people of the area, who grind them into flour and use it to make many food forms.

It was a very short and relaxing day’s driving, also taking in a side trip to Moquehué, a small town som twenty km from Pehuenia. Lots of lakes around here, and the tourist season just beginning to wake up.

Tomorrow I cross into Chile, through a new pass (Icalma, a crossing that I don’t know). I’ll be aiming for Temuco, a big city and quite a change after these idyllic little settlements.

Chile and Chiloe Nov/Dec 2023: Day 1

Day 1

For this short trip I decided I was not going to write a blog. This is it. The map shows my intended route as I set out: from SM north to Villa Pehuenia, West to Temuco, south to Quellón (on the island Chiloe) and back to SM through Puerto Montt and Villa Angostura.

Left San Martín de los Andes about 07.30, driving first to Lake Tromen in search of Pehuén pine cones. Easily found but needn’t have bothered as later in the day I saw lots on my route.

Drive from June to Pio Lil good, fast tarmac if a little twisty. From Pio Lil to the turn for Quillen the road was worse than ever, but still a beautiful drive. Thenceforth twenty km of broken tarmac and lunch in Aluminé – a tasty lamb stew.

Sadly my favourite pasta restaurant (Posta del Rey) had closed down – seems the owner died, but the food under the new owners was good, if not meeting my dreams.

After lunch drove out to Ruca Choroi – another familiar road, where I found more and better piñones. Then to my hotel for the night, impressive to look at and above my usual standard but only £25 or so for the night.

Skipped evening meal (huge lunch) but found bowls of (pehuén) pine kernels which I ‘stole’ with permission, so my collection is now complete.

Tomorrow I’ll be doing the short drive to Villa Pehuenia.

Trip down Carretera Austral November 2023: Day 9

Had an early breakfast and got on the road to see the Caves of the Painted Hands. Good light, good road (mostly) and got there by 09.40. Nice to be on fast flat roads instead of twisty mountain gravel.

Very different scenery to Chile: dry, and more desert-like.

I did well to leave early, as there was no one else there and I got the guide all to myself. She was excellent, and the whole tour was fascinating. As we finished I saw the next tour assembling – there must have been at least twenty-five people waiting.

The wall paintings are in a long cañadon (canyon) providing some protection from the elements.

As expected there were many painted hands, in a variety of natural pigments from different periods. dating back as early as 7350 BC. This figure has been arrived at through radio carbon dating, and is challenging earlier theories of migration times and patterns.

But more than hands: there were scenes of hunting guanaco and other animals. The guanaco provided the nomadic peoples with food, protective clothing, sinews and tendons, bones and grease. They also ate tuco-tuco, choique (lesser rhea), puma and other small animals.

And there are glyphs and artwork whose meaning we can only guess at.

I saw a lot of birds on the road: ducks, geese and swans in the many creeks the road crossed. But I had decided not to include wild life this time, so I’ll limit this to a couple of elegant black-necked swans.

And the road was littered with guanaco, hundreds of them.

Then back to Perito Moreno, where I stopped for Lunch. Then I watched the big football game (in Brazil, Boca against Fluminense). Sadly Boca lost 1-2, in extra time.

Tomorrow I drive back northwards, towards Esquel, breaking the journey in Gobernador Costa.

Trip down Carretera Austral November 2023: Day 8

Up early and away, first stop Chile Chico. Which was only 111 km on the map but took almost four hours. Very, very steep and twisty and parts extremely potholed – some lakeside descents quite frightening and I did most of it in 4WD. But compensated for by some of the most spectacular scenery I’ve ever seen: the snowcapped Andes in all their glory and the sun reflected in gorgeous lakes.

The view leaving Puerto Guadal …

….. along the way ….

… until arriving at Chile Chico, where I had a coffee, bought some pisco and filled the tank (crazy thing to do with Chilean prices and so near the border, but petrol was scarce when I left Argentina).

Immigration and customs a breeze both sides, though the young gendarme seemed keen to have explanations for every item I was carrying. But it didn’t take long, he was friendly and chatty and keen to visit SM de los Andes and I wasn’t in a hurry.

Then through to Los Antiguos, where I was not tempted by the Ruta 41 where Tiso and I had such fun a few years back (see here). No desire to learn more about menucos.

I would have liked to drive along RP 41 a little but lunch seemed a more sensible option.

On to Perito Moreno, on some good (straight and flat) tarmac, and arrived in time for lunch and to check in at my best hotel so far. Yes, a proper hotel, and a comfy one – the favourable dollar exchange encouraged me to splash out a bit.

The name of the hotel refers to the Cave of the Painted Hands, a UNESCO world Heritage site which I hope to visit tomorrow. More here.

Trip down Carretera Austral November 2023: Day 7

Short blog today, as I have work deadlines.

Left Coyhaique very early, hoping to get to the Cerro Castillo Reserve at dawn to see the huemules comedown to the water. Left at 04.30, grabbing a Copec coffee on the way. I kept my end of the bargain but the huemules failed me. Never mind.

I did see three rabbits, a fox and a skunk. And picked up a French ski instructor who kept me company on some very indifferent roads. After Coyhaique there are few stretches of tarmac, but the gravel is mostly good, with a few bad patches. But twisty, so slow driving.

Got to Puerto Guadal, quite near the border with Argentina, at midday and down to exam reviewing. Can’t complain – the work pays for these trips.. Still finding Chile expensive, but that ends tomorrow, and my dollars will go further in Argentina.

Tomorrow to Perito Moreno, in Argentina.

Trip down Carretera Austral November 2023: Day 6

I was tired last night and went to bed reasonably early, but not before celebrating my arrival in Coyhaique with a refreshing mojito. As I took my first sip I realised it should have been a Pisco Sour, but that can wait for the next one.

The streets were full of bizarrely dressed kids trick or treating, what with itt being Halloween. Strange [to me] to see this Irish American tradition in southern Chile, but guess it’s all over the world now. Including the women who served me my [unexpectedly expensive] supper.

This is the hostel I stayed in last night and will stay in tonight. Friendly and comfortable but only powdered instant coffee. Like all travellers I carry essentials, so broke out some Cabrales coffee bags and peace was restored.

It was a working day for me. Fortified by coffee and sweet breads (not sweetbreads) I worked till lunchtime reviewing exam questions and then went out to find sustenance. Which I found in then shape of, what else, a Peruvian restaurant.

Rather than beer or wine I opted for a jug of chicha, refreshing and nostalgic. The menu was extensive (you can check with the optical code) – I had bird and surf, chopped slices of chicken with assorted shellfish served with rice and chips. Good, filling stuff, as my lunches are tending to be.

So I needed to walk it off a bit. Coyhaique is a beautiful little town, and no doubt because of tourists doing the Carretera Austral has developed more sophisticated infrastructure than other neighbouring community centres. It even has a casino, which –even if they had let me in in my dishevelled travelling gear– I was able to resist.

Above is the street corner of my hotel, a quiet area with the mountains in the background. Below, part of the Plaza de Armas, central square, where they were getting together for celebrations at the weekend. Lots of artesania there, which I did succumb to, including a nice hand-woven mat for my new house.

Back to the hotel for a short siesta and some more item reviewing, and out for my promised Pisco sour with supper.

Tomorrow an early start and south down Ruta 7 as far as Puerto Guadal. If I’m lucky I may see some huemules along the way, but I dare not hope.

Trip down Carretera Austral November 2023: Day 5

Woke up at my usual 06.00 to a freezing room in a freezing building. Ice in the bedroom. All ideas of a morning shower evaporated, as did the prospect of waiting in the cold until breakfast at 08.00 so I decided to cut my losses and drove off in the dawn.

It was actually nice at that time of the morning – all a little crisp, and improvable with a coffee but nothing was open in Puyuhuapi or indeed down the Carretera Austral for more than a hundred miles. But I had some juice and biscuits in the car, and the views were again stunning.

I was puzzled by what seemed to be rhubarb growing abundantly on the roadside – must be some other local plant.

I stopped to admire the view a few miles along my way and chatted with some cyclists who were just striking camp. Hardier than me, they were cheerful enough and seemingly not bothered by the cold. Oh, to be young again.

The road was partly paved with excellent asphalt, partly made up gravel and partly nightmare through some of the hilly sections, where there were small amounts of snow and very twisty pot-holed roads that made me grateful there was no ice by the time I reached them. But most of the road hugged lakesides and was mesmerisingly beautiful …

… and in the absence of heavy slow good to drive on.

Had coffee and a sandwich along the way, in a town called Amengual which had one of the beautiful chapels you see in southern Chile. Apparently this was built in the 1880s by one man, with no building or architectural knowledge, who carved every wooden pantile* by hand (if that’s the word?). Reminded me of the chapels Caroline and I saw in Chiloe.

Stopped for another coffee at a COPEC in Mañihuales, and remet some fellow travellers. It’s inevitable when you’re all doing the same long route over several days that you’ll meet up, and kind of fun too.

Got to the days’s destination, Coyhaique, in the early afternoon ready for my delayed shower. Nice comfy hostal, good shower (hot, good water pressure). Coyhaique is a sizeable town so I’ll hope to find a decent restaurant for supper tonight.

I’n staying two nights in Coyhaique as I have some Peer Review work to catch up on and the Internet connection is good. Another good thing is I don’t have to think about the route, hotels, diesel, etc for another twenty-four hours.

Trip down Carretera Austral November 2023: Day 4

A good day, despite the naysayers in Esquel who tried to convince me the Futaleufú Pass was closed. It wasn’t. But first things first.

Very heavy overnight snow in Esquel had caused the town’s electricity supply to fail, and with it Internet and mobile phone signals. So I waited until 10.00 and went along to Vialidad who told me that there was no problem at all with the road to Chile so I set off with a cheerful wave to the naysayers in the hotel.

And Vialidad were right. Despite the heavy snow in Esquel it was the only falling snow I saw in the day and there was precious little on the roads until I got to Villa Santa Lucia, in Chile and on the ruta 7. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

First stop, Trevelin, the mill town. Welsh country here, with a dragon perched precariously on the roof of the information office. I know the town quite well and will be returning later in the trip so drove straight through the town towards the border with Chile. The Tulip festival is getting underway in Trevelin, but the fields are covered in mud and snow with few tulips visible. When I come back next week they should be in full flower.

So, lots of snow around but the road to Chile was clear. Mostly gravel, and very twisty in parts, which made the journey slow but we passed through some beautiful country.

The road from Esquel to Puyuhuapi was the road taken by the Top Gear team back in 2014. They were not especially complimentary about the route, nor my destination, Puyuhuapi. Pearls before swine, I reckon.

So many rivers and bridges ..

Until finally I reached the Ruta 7 (Carretera Austral) at Villa Santa Lucía.

And to prove it …

Filled car with diesel and self with coffee at La Junta, at a COPEC service station, the equivalent of Argentina’s YPF.

And finally arrived in the sleepy little town of Puyuhuapi ….

…. which now has a huge number of hosterías and restaurants to cater for passing tourists ‘doing the Carretera Austral’.

The sun was up now, and it was lovely to walk around a little after being stuck in a snow bound car for so long.

A modest little village really, whose old houses record a life before the tourists arrive.

I arrived a little ahead of schedule and my host was not at home so I went for a welcome beer at Scarlet’s cafe …

…. before checking in for the night. An evening fish supper and a glass of wine, and was ready for bed. Tomorrow, to Coyhaique.