Yoll na ammegrach ta herpull yek chenchul fengerach. Sa ef herpullents dar horentser ta blerter frailastsists flen pulanturl trovailhts sa fiven.
What am I talking about?
Well, I decided to become an ethnic minority, and in order to do that, I need a few important identifiers. For one, I need my traditional customs, but that’s no problem. Everyone knows my habits. They’re well-established and they define me uniquely. I habitually do crazy things and I have vitally-important rituals. For instance, my culture forbids getting out of bed before 11 on Saturday mornings.
The other thing I need is a language, so I made one up. I call it Klurbentns, though its real name is Floertchllunen. Now, I realise that a language, in order to be a defining characteristic of an ethnic minority, needs to be shared and that’s why I consulted my children.
Har tra cuin flamselerallegr? I said to my daughter.
Strarmellink! she replied without hesitation
My son was equally adamant. Yaarnt flarnst heb cluoilantinken, he shouted.
Please, I urged him. Mind your language.
Trivlull, he apologised.
I’m not sure where to apply, but there has to be a grant in this somewhere. A bit of cash to protect us before our culture dies out completely, which would be fertankullent.
I haven’t been oppressed yet, but I’ll be working on that during the week, and with any luck when I come back to you next week, I’ll have been brutally disadvantaged by the system, and substantially richer. Let’s wait and see.