Use the plus / minus on the top left to re-size the map. You can navigate the map in the following way : place the mouse pointer over the map image, click the left mouse button and hold it down, then move the mouse to navigate the map.

The oldest part of Rhydfelen school dated from World War I and was based around the Gwent block of school rooms. The Gwent block is in white at the lower part of the map.

Test your memory… see how many parts of old Rhydfelen school you remember.

Please note this map dates from approximately 2004. In 2006 the school moved to a new site in Church Village and in 2008 all the old school buildings at the Rhydfelin site (in the map) were destroyed.

In the bottom left hand side of the map the large road is the A470 and adjacent to that runs the River Taff.

Given some time I hope to be able to prepare and publish an anotated map of the old Rhydfelen school site in future.

Ar fy mhen fy hunan o fewn muriau yr hen eglwysi a chapeli teimlais yn saff.

Chwilio am rywle i orwedd yn yr haul oeddwn i rhai dyddiau.

Chwiliais am fedd gwag yng nghornel rhyw fynwent gwledig.

Tynnais lluniau o’r adeiladau er mwyn ffugio diddordeb ym mhensaerniaeth a hanes.

Ond dianc o holl gecru y cyfreithwyr oeddwn i.

A dyheu am heddwch wrth gysgu gyda’r meirw.

Yn y Llun : Capel y Ffin, Pen y Cae, Cwm Tawe.

Cliciwch ar y Llun i weld Fersiwn Fwy

Myfi yw y gwr a welodd flinder gan wialen ei ddigofaint ef.

I dywyllwch, ac nid i oleuni, yr arweiniodd ac y tywysodd efe fi.

Yn fy erbyn i yn ddiau y trodd efe, ac y mae efe yn troi ei law ar hyd y dydd.

Efe a wnaeth fy nghnawd a’m croen yn hen; efe a ddrylliodd fy esgyrn.

Efe a adeiladodd i’m herbyn, ac a’m hamgylchodd a+ bustl ac a+ blinder.

Efe a’m gosododd mewn tywyll leoedd, fel y rhai sydd wedi marw er ys talwm.

Efe a gaeodd o’m hamgylch, fel nad elwyf allan : efe a wnaeth fy llyffethair i yn drom.

Pan lefwyf, a phan floeddiwyf, efe a gae allan fy ngweddi.

Efe a gaeodd fy ffyrdd a+ cherrig nadd; efe a wyrodd fy llwybrau.

Yr oedd efe i mi fel arth yn cynllwyn, neu lew mewn llochesau.

Efe a wyrodd fy ffyrdd, ac a’m drylliodd; yn anrheithiedig y gwnaeth fi.

Efe a anelodd ei fwa, ac a’m gosododd fel nod i saeth.

Efe a wnaeth i saethau ei gawell fyned i’m harennau.

Gwatwargerdd oeddwn i’m holl bobol, a’u ca+n ar hyd y dydd.

Efe a’m llanwodd a+ chwerwder; efe a’m meddwodd i a+’r wermod.

Efe a dorrodd fy nannedd a+ cherrig, ac a’m trybaeddodd yn y llwch.

A phellheaist fy enaid oddi wrth heddwch; anghofiais ddaioni.

A mi a ddywedais, Darfu am fy nerth a’m gobaith oddi wrth yr Arglwydd.

Cofia fy mlinder a’m gofid, y wermod a’r bustl.

Fy enaid gan gofio a gofia, ac a ddarostyngwyd ynof fi.

Hyn yr ydwyf yn ei atgofio; am hynny y gobeithiaf.

Trugareddau yr Arglwydd yw na ddarfu amdanom ni : oherwydd ni phalla ei dosturiaethau ef.

Bob bore y deuant o newydd : mawr y dy ffyddlondeb.

Yr Arglwydd yw fy rhan i, medd fy enaid; am hynny y gobeithiaf ynddo.

Daionus yw yr Arglwydd i’r rhai a ddisgwyliant wrtho, ac i’r enaid a’i ceisio.

Da yw gobeitiho a disgwyl yn ddistaw am iachawdwriaeth yr Arglwydd.

Da yw i wr ddwyn yr iau yn ei ieuenctid.

Efe a eistedd ei hunan, ac a dau a+ so+n; am iddo ei dwyn hi arno.

Efe a ddyry ei enau yn y llwch, i edrych a oes obaith.

Efe a ddyry ei gern i’r hwn a’i trawo : efe a lenwir a+ gwaradwydd.

Oblegid nid yn dragywydd y gwrthyd yr Arglwydd :

Ond er iddo gystuddio, eto efe a dosturia, yn o+l amlder ei drugareddau.

Canys nid o’i fodd y blina efe, nac y cystuddia blant dynion

I fathru holl garcharorion y ddaear dan ei draed.

I wyro barn gwr o flaen wyneb y Goruchaf,

Nid yw yr Arglwydd yn gweled yn dda wneuthur cam a+ gwr yn ei fater.

Pwy a ddywed y bydd dim, heb i’r Arglwydd ei orchymyn ?

Oni ddaw o enau y Goruchaf ddrwg a da ?

Paham y grwgnach dyn byw, gwr am gosbedigaeth ei bechod ?

Ceisiwn a chwiliwn ein ffyrdd, a dychwelwn at yr Arglwydd.

Dyrchafwn ein calonna a’n dwylo at Dduw yn y nefoedd.

Nyni a wnaethom gamwedd, ac a fuom anufudd; tithau nid arbedaist.

Gorchuddiaist ni a+ soriant, ac a erlidiaist ni : leddaist, nid arbedaist.

Ti a’th guddiaist dy hun a+ chwmwl, fel na ddeuai ein gweddi trwodd.

Ti a’n gwnaethost yn sorod ac yn ysgubion yng nghanol y bobl.

Ein holl elynion a ledasant eu safnau yn ein herbyn.

Dychryn a magl a ddaeth arnom, anrhaith a dinistr.

Fy llygad a ddiferodd ffrydiau o ddwfr, oherwydd dinistr merch fy mhobl.

Fy llygad a ddiferodd, ac ni pheidiodd, am nad oed gorffwystra;

Hyd oni edrycho, ac oni ystyrio yr Arglwydd o’r nefoedd.

Y mae fy llygaid yn blino fy enaid, oherwydd holl ferched fy ninas.

Fy ngelynion gan hela a’m heliasant yn ddiachos, fel aderyn.

Torasant ymaith fy einioes yn y pwll, a bwriasant gerrig arnaf.

Y dyfroedd a lifasant dros fy mhen : dywedais, Torrwyd fi ymaith.

Gelwais ar dy enw di, O Arglwydd, o’r pwll isaf.

Ti a glywaist fy llef : na chudd dy glust rhag fy uchenaid a’m gwaedd.

Ti a ddaethost yn nes y dydd y gelwais arnat : dywedaist, Nac ofna.

Ti, O Arglwydd, a ddadleuaist gyda’m henaid : gwaredaist fy einioes.

Ti, O Arglwydd, a welaist fy ngham : barn di fy marn i.

Ti a welaist eu holl ddial hwynt, a’u holl amcanion i’m herbyn i.

Clywaist eu gwaradwydd, O Arglwydd, a’u holl fwriadau i’m herbyn;

Gwefusau y rhai a godant i’m herbyn, a’u myfyrdod i’m herbyn ar hyd y dydd.

Edrych ar eu heisteddiad a’u cyfodiad; myfi yw eu ca+n hwynt.

Ta+l y pwyth iddynt, O Arglwydd, yn o+l gweithred eu dwylo.

Dod iddynt ofid calon, dy felltith iddynt.

Erlid hwynt a+ digofaint, a difetha hwy oddi tan nefoedd yr Arglwydd.

I am sweating and tapping a keyboard and shifting wires.

I have Patrick Jones on my mind because I am going to see his play tonight.

It’s Thursday March 23rd 2000.

I am sweating my bollocks off in a Japanese factory near Hirwaun.

I am at one end of the production line.

The girl with the pretty smile is at the other end of the line.

And in between an endless sullen stream of computer monitors humming monotonously all day.

*

I went to see Everything Must Go at Blackwood Miner’s Institute on March 23rd, 2000. I saw the premiere in the Sherman Theatre the previous year. The acting was excellent and the casting remained mostly unchanged from the Cardiff premiere. Andrew Lennon, Maria Pride (ex Rhydfelen pupil) etc.

I was so moved by the production at Blackwood. It felt unnerving to witness the story unfold given my current work and the way I was feeling (or not feeling) at the time.

I was then working in the the Cynon Valley’s largest factory, Hitachi Electronics on Rhigos Industrial Estate outside Hirwaun. In the 1970s in its heyday it employed several thousand people. Now in 2000, the closure of the factory was inevitable and there was an air of despondency and gloom that made life in the factory difficult and depressing. I felt sorry for the workers who had invested ten, twenty or more years of their lives in this one factory and knew it would all soon end with little prospect of getting another job.

In Everything Must Go, one scene in particular reminded me how brilliant Jones is as a poet and dramatist : the scene with the miners and computer monitors being thrown down a mineshaft. In one brief but very poignant scene in the play, Jones contrasts the traumatic changes that have happened to the Valleys in recent years and the human response to that : a need to express anger at such inexplicable changes. I could relate to this writing. It made me want to try and put pen to paper.

In his own words from the play’s directions :

Unit 7

Music : Ready for Drowning by the ‘Manic Street Preachers’

7 miners climb out of the ground and sit in lecture chairs, brought on by factory workers, and are presented with computer screens. After failing to work out how to use them, each miner picks up his screen and throws it down into the pit. They take a long look at the audience, their lamps shining straight out, then exit.

A factory hooter sounds. Silence.

This scene resonated deeply with me. I was working computer monitors on an assembly line and sometimes felt like throwing them simply to feel alive. Production line work numbs the body and mind. The factory making the computer monitors was situated literally down the road from Tower Colliery, the last deep mine in South Wales. Everything seemed to be going, going, soon to be gone.

The Manic Street Preaches song ‘Ready for Drowning’ played out with this scene. Listening to this song I felt as if tears were welling up inside and filling my heart and lungs, blotting out and drowning traumatic experiences from my own past.

Here’s a true story said someone to me yesterday…
Deny its history, deny its history…
So where are we going we are not ready for drowning ?

YouTube Direktvideo link

I stayed for the after-show event where Patrick Jones performed some of his new poetry. I had brought a few questions with me but never got the opportunity to ask them. He read some poems concerning the St David’s Woods area of Blackwood which was about to be destroyed by road developers.

I took notes, as I usually do, throughout the play and in particular during Patrick’s after-show reading. I took so many notes, I started writing on the edges of the newspaper at hand. Eventually I ran out of newspaper, and then I started writing on my hand, and then up my arm. Thus I walked out of the Blackwood Miner’s Institute with Patrick Jones written up my arm. I looked like a tattooed yob, albeit one inspired by poetry.

The coloured ‘pin’ in this map is roughly above the Tresaith chalets which were used by Ysgol Gyfun Rhydfelen for many years.

You can navigate the map in the following way : place the mouse pointer over the map image, click the left mouse button and hold it down, then move the mouse to navigate the map.

The Urdd Gobaith Cymru’s Llangrannog camp site is approximately five miles away.

In the photo : front row (left) Craig Duggan and (right) Jonathan Dunn.

Behind the window pane, Richard Hughes.

If I can blow my own juvenile trumpet, I think there’s good composition in this photo.

Craig Duggan worked for the BBC for some time and, latterly, he went on to work for Powys County Council as part of their Menter Iaith (Welsh Language initiative). But what happened to Richard and Jonathan ?

Fe gyrrais Sonny i Ysbyty Maelor yn Wrecsam ac fe arhosais amdano yn yr adran Damweiniau ac Achosion Brys.

Diolch byth nad collwyd unrhyw un o fysedd y dyn talentog yma.

YouTube Direktvideo link

Ryan was a pupil at HEOL-Y-CELYN primary school.

Ryan started Ysgol Rhydfelen school in September 1982.

He started in 1 Owain Form Registration group.

He left Rhydfelen at the end of the fifth form in July 1987.

In the photograph - Ryan Smart - taken in Year 1 of school during 1983.

If you can help track down Ryan, please drop me a note.

Mae atgofion o wersi cerddoriaeth yn Ysgol Ynyslwyd ac Ysgol Rhydfelen yn dod yn ol.

Gwenaf o glust i glust.

YouTube Direktvideo link

By that time in my childhood I had seen the Sound of Music film and could recognise this song. We certainly had a copy of the album of the Sound of Music in the collection of records near the family gramaphone (or record player).

I loved the surreal comedy of the Muppet show. There were so many daft and lovable animal characters. The Muppet Show was very cleverly produced and had a wide appeal amongst children and adults alike. There was always plenty of visual gags in the show, like the gag at the end of this particular episode where Rowlf plays “Moonlight Sonata” and loses his concentration as a moon rises behind him.

There is a detailed guide to this episode on Muppet Central here.

YouTube Direktvideo link

I am eleven years old and still at junior school at Ysgol Ynyslwyd. I seem to know what I like when it comes to buying a single on the occasional Saturday in Aberdare town.

Tight Fit were a short-lived UK pop act. They gained unexpected success in 1982 with this single. The group was fronted by singer and male model Steve Grant along with female singers Denise Gyngell and Julie Harris.

Never underestimate the record buying allure of women dancing in leopard print leotards… here is the video on Youtube.

YouTube Direktvideo link

Fel bachgen un ar ddeg mlwydd oed fe ennillais Crys T Bananaman am fy mhod wedi ysgrifennu llythyr doniol a brintiwyd yn un o comics poblogaidd y dydd.

Fel dyn yn fy nhridegau fe ennillais tocyn ar gyfer y dadl agoriadol yn Siambr newydd y Senedd.

Braint oedd cael gwisgo fy nghrys T Bananaman fel bachgen a braint oedd bod yn rhan o gynulleidfa wahoddedig yn Siambr y Senedd yn gwrando ar Aelodau y Cynulliad ar Ddydd Mawrth, y 7fed o Chwefror 2006.

Clod i Leanne Wood AC am ddefnyddio ei thocynnau er mwyn codi trafodaeth ar y cwestiwn, pwy ddylai agor ein Senedd ni ?

Please drop me a note if you know Philip Davies or his whereabouts.

Philip started Ysgol Rhydfelen school in September 1982. 1 Owain was his registration group.

This photo was taken on the July 1983 school trip to Tresaith on the Ceredigion Coast with 1 Owain group. On that trip, Menna Tomos was present, as our registration group teacher, along with Mr Gerwyn Caffery and Mr Elfed Charles.

Busker in Cardiff Queen Street

Friday, March 9th 2007

I am looking forward to a meeting today at Cardiff University to discuss the future of a Welsh ‘indymedia’ independent media project. The old Indycymru project died recently. This left Wales as the only part of the UK without an independent media project website.

I have booked the smallest and thus cheapest room available at Cardiff University and sold a proverbial kidney to pay for it. I never gamble, but today I am gambling people will turn up.

There are promises of support from many different individuals and groups, but very few people turn up for this meeting. One of those that did turn up was an enthusiastic young man called Jim Dunckley.

I have a book by Noam Chomksy with me and Jim Dunckley seems to know a thing or two about this writer. So I give him my copy of Chomsky’s Necessary Illusions in the hope it might find a good home and help his political thinking.

I understand that Jim is now actively campaigning for more powers for the Welsh Assembly under the banner of a group called Wales First / Cymru Gyntaf.

* * *

Before the above meeting, I took a walk around Cardiff Queen Street and a lone busker sitting on a bench in the middle of the street caught my eye. He was singing one of Bob Marley’s classic songs and there was so much happiness in his singing and such a warm smile. He seemed to light up the whole street. We take ourselves and the work of our lives so seriously, that we do not allow ourselves time to stop for a while and enjoy the simplest of pleasures.

* * *

This man entertained thousands of Welsh people today for he spent the afternoon sitting on a bench in Queen Street, Cardiff singing his heart out.

The sun shone on Cardiff today and it felt like summer in the mid-day sun.

Today there are more beggars and homeless people in Cardiff than in many decades past.

Aberdare’s MP Ann Clwyd raised the issue of homelessness at this year’s March 1st St David’s Day Welsh Affairs Debate in the House Of Parliament, saying :

I have been shocked recently in Cardiff to see people sitting on the streets, by lifts, wrapped up in blankets, begging.

It was nigh impossible to walk down a single street without passing someone squatting at a shop-entrance begging.

Cardiff has changed so much in the past few years, but the chasm between the richest and poorest in society is wider than ever.

…

I spent some time sitting in the sun near the statue of John the Third Marquis of Bute overlooking Cardiff Castle, with a copy of Noam Chomsky’s Necessary Illusions at hand for company. Even the stern figure of old Butey seemed to want to smile in the glorious sunny Cardiff that was Friday, March 9th 2007.

I’ve found a video of Boy from York City on Youtube, below. It’s a cover version of the Ad Libs 1965 hit.

In the video Den Hegarty is the band member with the chequered suit. He always reminded me of a scary monster character with his jerky movements, thick sideburns and eyebrows and strange expressions.

Bob Fish is singing and dancing to the left of Hegarty and looking so cool in a dark staypress-type suit with a wide white collared shirt. And Rita Ray. She is a touch of magic. Just look at her move in this video clip.

For more information on the Darts, see the fan site Amazing Darts here.

YouTube Direktvideo link

Fragile Earth Sculpture at Cwmaman

I found the following blog posting from August 2008. It reminded me there are systems of power and economic governance that demand disconnection and people unable to relate to each other …

* * *

A scrap of paper fell from the filing cabinet today echoing some of my reading from years past.

It was a quote by theologian Dorothee Soelle from her book The Silent Cry (Mysticism and Resistance) (2001) :

One of the spiritual difficulties in our situation is the inner connection between globalization and individualization. The more globally the market economy structures itself, the less interest it demonstrates in the social and ecological webs in which humans live, and the more it requires the individual who is without any relation whatsoever.

The partner that our global market economy needs is Homo Oeconomicus. This is an individual fit for business and pleasure, showing no interest in the anti-personnel mines that his car manufacturer produces, no interest in the water that his grandchildren will use - not to mention interest in God..

In reply to Soelle, I considered a scrap of poetry from memory… “every day do something that doesn’t compute”.

These are the rousing words of Wendell Berry in Manifesto : the Mad Farmer Liberation Front (Reclaiming Politics, 1991) :

So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it.

…

Go with your love to the fields.
Lie down in the shade. Rest your head
in her lap. Swear allegiance
to what is nighest your thoughts.
As soon as the generals and the politicos
can predict the motions of your mind,
lose it. Leave it as a sign
to mark the false trail, the way
you didn’t go. Be like the fox
who makes more tracks than necessary,
some in the wrong direction.
Practice resurrection.

In the Photograph : Fragile Earth sculpture by Paul Clarke at Cwmaman Sculpture Trail

Dwi’n ei adnabod fel y dyn wnaeth siarad yng nghanolfan Michael Sobells yn Aberdar yn ystod yr Haf fel rhan o gyfres o gyfarfodydd cyhoeddus a drefnwyd gan y Western Mail a’r South Wales Echo. Pwrpas y cyfarfodydd oedd codi ymwybyddiaeth a phryfocio trafodaeth ledled Cymru ar y Refferendwm ym Mis Medi 1997.

Yn ystod y cyfarfod hwnnw yn Aberdar fe siaradodd Professor Kevin Morgan yn ogystal a Eluned Morgan (Aelod Seneddol Ewropeaidd) a Ieuan Wyn Jones (Aelod Seneddol Ynys Mon ym 1997). Yr Athro a ganwyd yn Rhigos (ger Hirwaun) wnaeth creu yr argraff gorau arnaf gyda ei weledigaeth hyderus o ddyfodol Cymru.

Diolch i’r nefoedd, ni soniodd Kevin Morgan yn ei araith am ormod o syniadau haniaethol. Yn hytrach na gwneud hynny, fe awgrymodd yn blwmp ac yn blaen fod rhaid i ni gwynebu ein sefyllfa : gwynebu her y newidiadau chwyldroadol yn economi Cymru, a gwynebu y ffaith fod cymaint o greithiau ddwfn wedi dilyn y newidiadau hynny. Cyfeiriodd at gysyniad Albert Hirschman (Exit, Voice and Loyalty) ac hefyd fe gododd esiamplau llwyddiannus rhai o wledydd bychain a rhanbarthau Ewrop.

Fe’m ysbrydolwyd gan yr araith yma. Ymhen mis neu ddau fe ennillwyd y Refferendwm ar Ddatganoli (18fed o Fedi, 1997) gyda thrwch blewyn o bleidleisiau. Mis ar ol hynny, mi oedd rhaid i mi ysgwyd llaw gyda’r Athro yma yng nghalon stryd yng Nghaerdydd! You don’t know me Professor Morgan… I remember you gave a wonderful speech in Aberdare… And thank you for your work in making it happen…

Credaf bod pawb yn haeddu clywed y geiriau bach pwysig, diolch yn fawr.

- Martin Luther King Jr.
US black civil rights leader & clergyman (1929 - 1968)

* * * * *

I have collected quotations since the mid 1980s. I find some words, a phrase or poem that shines like a diamond and I would want to collect it and label it and keep it for later.

I suppose I was re-creating one of my earliest hobbies, collecting coins. But instead I wanted to collect words.

I have always kept quotations in simple exercise books, rather like the books one would use as a school pupil. I now have a couple of these private ‘diamond mines’. Every now and again, I like to uncover this collection, perhaps hold up a specimen and see if it looks different in today’s light.

Silence has been an important theme in my life, so I will choose some words on silence by Dr Martin Luther King. I first read about Dr King in Ysgol Rhydfelen school in a Religious Education class. I’ve mislaid the school diary, but I believe that subject was taken by either Mrs Morfydd Stone or Mr Gwyn Pritchard Jones (husband to Mrs Eirlys Pritchard Jones; both were Senior Teachers within Rhydfelen). That was around a quarter of a century ago.

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.

- Martin Luther King Jr.
US black civil rights leader & clergyman (1929 - 1968)

Read about Dr Luther King on Wikipedia here

It is situated on Fairfield Lane, Rhydyfelin village and opposite Hawthorn Leisure Centre. Ysgol Rhydfelen school summer sports days - the Mabolgampau - were often held at this site.

I have memories of jogging to this field for a two hour sports lesson. By the time we reached Cae Milgwn our time on the field playing rugby was severely curtailed.

I remember in particular a teacher called Mr Geraint Price (Geography) taking us for rugby at some point for these distant lessons.

There was a reason why sports lessons were being held in Cae Milgwn. Either there was a clash of demands for Ysgol Rhydfelen school’s on-site rugby field or we were playing at Cae Milgwn to give the school’s rugby field a rest and a chance to recover.

After walking or jogging to Cae Milgwn and back to Rhydfelen for our weekly sports lesson, I think we needed time to recover too.

Here’s a Google Map of the Cae Milgwn field. You can can navigate the map if you feel like re-creating that long walk back to the old Rhydfelen school site!

I loved listening to Adam Duritz’ lyrics. It’s rare to find a man who could write songs with such feeling. Being introduced to this album was perfect timing as I was going through some difficulties and I couldn’t get my own feelings down on the page. So I followed that well-trodden path of reading/listening to some one who could. And this helped me work things out.

If you ever want to learn about writing songs, this album is as good a start as any.

Commenting on the song Raining in Baltimore - see Youtube video below - Adam Duritz said : “It’s a rare song about being 50 miles from nowhere and wanting to be somewhere else with someone that you miss — but also realizing that you set this situation up for yourself. This is the saddest, bitterest song on the record for me.”

YouTube Direktvideo link