Lisnaharragh
Linda Ervine is the Irish Language Development Officer for Turas Project, an Irish language project which aims to connect people from Protestant communities to their own history with the Irish language. Turas is based on the belief that the language belongs to everyone and that it can be a mechanism of reconciliation.
I was born, reared and have lived all of my life in Belfast; yet sadly I was in my forties before anyone told me that the original name of my home city is Béal Feirste, and that it means the mouth of the sandback ford. It seems foolish to me now, but I had never considered that our place names come from another language and that they meant something. That the majority of the original Irish language names were transliterated and those are the names that we are familiar with today.
It was my introduction to the Irish language almost ten years ago, that allowed me for the first time to actually understand the place names and to gain an appreciation of the landscape that surrounds me. The amazement of discovering that knock, from the Irish cnoc means hill, derry, doire is an oak grove, moy, maigh means plain, that owen, abhainn is a river, carrick, carraig is a rock and drum, droim means ridge. Why had I had I never had the opportunity to know these things before? I felt almost a sense of loss, that I had spent my life in the darkness, totally unaware of the beauty of these wonderful names.
And who wouldn’t be thrilled to discover that they live on ‘the hill of the rabbits’ Knocknagoney, Cnoc na gCoiníní or at ‘the fort of the gamblers’ Lisnagarvey, Lios na gCearrbhach. Place names that for me had previously possessed no meaning are now brimming with historical and geographical interest and information.
Gaelic place names are descriptive, they tell us something about the place, but without access to the language, we have no access to the message within the name. And these place names, exist not only in Ireland but in Scotland and the Isle of Man where Gaelic languages are also spoken. Gaelic is a linguistic link that connects us to other parts and peoples within these islands.
When Belfast City Council was working on its language policy, a number of public meetings were held to discuss views on multilingual signage. I remember attending a meeting in the new Lisnasharragh Leisure Centre, on the Castlereagh Road in east Belfast. Very few people were there, less than ten and when the discussion got under way, a small group, two men and a woman began to voice their objections to any type of Irish language signage.
We don’t want that here!
We’re not having that foreign language in our centre!
And as I listened to their arguments against Irish language signage my mind began to wander. I pictured a large sign with the word Lisnasharragh and beside it the original Irish language place name, Lios na Searrach (the fort of the foals) illustrated with a beautiful picture of horses. I shared the knowledge of the origins of the place name with the group but their belief that the language belongs to ‘themuns’ and that ‘themuns’ are trying to force it on us, prevented them from seeing that the language has surrounded them all of their lives.
When I eventually left that place, I drove past the local primary school, the one which has the sign outside with the words fort of the foals written just below the image of 4 horses and I saw the children all proudly wearing their school badge with the same image and wording, which references the original Irish language place name. And I thought to myself, what would happen if the original Irish words, Lios na Searrach were added to the sign? Would it change us? Would it take something from us? Or would it just make us more aware of our sense of place, of our history and our heritage?