Hong Kong (CNN)At work in central Hong Kong, David Hand is surrounded by people speaking Chinese and English. But inside his home, the Welsh language rules.
Welsh and Hawaiian were saved from extinction. Other languages might not be so lucky
Hand's three children -- Arwen, Huw and Tomos -- have never lived in Wales, spending their entire lives in Asia.
Inculcating his native language in them thousands of kilometers from the only place it is widely spoken wasn't easy. As well as only speaking to them in Welsh himself, Hand hired nannies from Wales -- usually teenagers taking time out between high school and university -- and arranged for them live to with the family.
Their Australian mother speaks to them in English.
"As the kids were growing up until the age of five we always had a Welsh speaker at home in addition to me," Hand said.
"It's about the mindset of thinking of yourself as Welsh and a Welsh speaker, and compare yourself to a French person or a Spaniard or a German. They wouldn't contemplate not teaching their children their own language."
Despite this, Hand's family is something of a rarity. Many Welsh speakers see their language skills diminish after they leave the country and switch to primarily speaking English or another language.
There also aren't the international schools and other institutions available to French, German or Japanese who want their children to grow up speaking a particular language.
Nor is the fact that the Hand children speak Welsh remarkable just due to where they live. Only a generation ago, the language was on the verge of dying out completely, joining the hundreds of other languages which have gone extinct in the last half century.
Today it is spoken by about half a million people in Wales, or just under 19% of the population -- a rate which has remained stable for almost a decade.
The story of the Welsh revival is one of tremendous organizing and effort by activists and politicians, who not only saved their own tongue but also established a blueprint of sorts which can be used by other languages under threat, including Hong Kong's own Cantonese.
Such a blueprint is desperately needed. Languages are far more vulnerable than many people realize, and can die out in a single generation if not passed down from parent to child.
This year is the United Nations International Year of Indigenous Languages, an event designed to raise awareness of the more than 1,700 languages listed as endangered by UNESCO.
More and more languages die out every year. And even as digital tools and communities help in the fight against the decline, some experts warn changes in how we communicate online could drastically accelerate language extinction.
"The Welsh language is a vast drawback to Wales, and a manifold barrier to the moral progress and commercial prosperity of the people."
So concluded an 1847 report prepared for the UK government in the wake of widespread social unrest in Wales which much of the English press blamed on the "lack of education of the Welsh people."
"It is not easy to overestimate its evil effects," the report said of the country's native language, adding "there is no Welsh literature worthy of the name."
In the wake of the report, Welsh Nots, planks of heavy wood that were hung around students' necks if they were caught speaking Welsh in school, became a common sight across the country. As one teacher wrote in his school's log book in 1870: "Endeavored to compel the children to converse in English by means of a piece of wood. Offenders to be shut in after school hours."
These attitudes, along with increased immigration to England, helped lead to a staggering drop in the use of Welsh. By the time Plaid Cymru -- the Party of Wales -- was founded in 1925, the number of Welsh speakers had fallen to 37% of the population and appeared headed into terminal decline.
Growing up in west Wales in the 1950s and '60s, Toni Schiavone was constantly aware of the language's second-class status in the eyes of the English-speaking elite which governed the country.
"Our culture was being slowly destroyed," he said. "Although I was born and grew up in a Welsh-speaking area, my education was 95% in the medium of English, everything around us was in English. It was being predicted that there would be no Welsh speakers by the turn of the century."
Schiavone was an early member of Cymdeithas yr Iaith Gymraeg -- the Welsh Language Society -- which organized to protect the country's native tongue via demonstrations and non-violent direct action. Members of Cymdeithas vandalized English-only road signs, staged sit-ins and protests, and campaigned for the establishment of a Welsh-language public television station, which was finally launched in 1982 as S4C.
This took no small amount of commitment to the cause. "In the 1970s people went to jail because road signs weren't available in Welsh, or because they refused to pay the TV license because we didn't have a Welsh language TV channel," Schiavone said.
Thanks to pressure from groups like Cymdeithas and the growing electoral success of Plaid Cymru, the political winds began to turn in favor of Welsh. In 1993 a law was passed to permit the language's use in court and put it on an equal footing with English for all public services. In decades since, Welsh education has been ramped up nationwide and in 2011 it became the country's official language.
The reversal in attitudes came not a moment too soon. At the 1991 census, only 18.5% of the population spoke Welsh, an all-time low. A decade later, however, that figure was more than 20% -- and the language's decline appears to have halted since, stabilizing at about a fifth of the population despite continued immigration from England and other countries.
The government of Wales -- which won partial autonomy from the UK in 1997 -- is now thoroughly invested in promoting the Welsh language, setting a target of one million Welsh speakers by 2050, for an estimated population of around 3.5 million.
"We've turned the tide in that people genuinely expected the Welsh language to have been destroyed by now," Schiavone said.
Far from being on the verge of extinction, Welsh is often held up today as an example of how grassroots organizing and government support can revive a language.
This was the case in Hawaii, where indigenous language activists were facing a much harder task than their Welsh counterparts, according to Gary Holton, a researcher with the Endangered Language Project.
"Almost everywhere the language had ceased to be a first language," he said. "The break in transmission was fairly complete, it required a real effort to jump start the language again ... you had to essentially skip a generation, bring in these grandparents and great-grandparents and get them to interact with preschool-age children."
Ekela Kaniaupio-Crozier was one of the people who helped turn it around. A native Hawaiian speaker, she was a rarity among her school friends, and remembers being the only child attending a language class run by a local church. Despite this, she still struggled to overcome prejudices baked into Hawaiian society against the state's indigenous language.
"I was raised by my grandmother to speak the language. She was very adamant that I speak Hawaiian," she said. "Because I thought it was strange I didn't really choose to speak it back to her but I understood everything."
After university -- in which she trained as a Hawaiian teacher -- Kaniaupio-Crozier became involved in the statewide campaign to revitalize the language. That project has seen remarkable success, leading to a generation of new second-language speakers who are able to pass Hawaiian on to their own children.
The language has also become popular among non-indigenous Hawaiians, Holton said, and like in Wales, indigenous names have been restored to many locations. Media has also played a role, with public radio broadcasting a "Hawaiian Word of the Day" segment and the state's largest newspaper, the Honolulu Star-Advertiser, running a weekly column in the language.
Now in her late 50s, Kaniaupio-C