British English vs. American English
23 Mar 2010 1 Comment
in Study Abroad Tags: cultureshock, funny stories, language, Spain
Today, I finalized my bus, plane, and hostel choices for my trip to Spain. Everything always feels distant and unreal during the planning process. My excitement will probably burst through when I get off the plane in Barcelona.
My W.B. Yeats professor told our class to come in this week to pick up our graded papers. But when I knocked on his door, there was no answer. So I went across the hallway to the English Department office, where a skinny, wrinkled woman wearing too much make-up swiveled in a chair to face me. I asked her if she knew when the professor would be in, or if he left papers for students to pick up.
“Have you checked his pigeon hole?”
I faltered. “His.. what?” My question was answered by following her gaze that searched into the depth of a mailbox among many doorless rectangles. I almost laughed. She called the mailboxes pigeon holes.
Speaking with the British is like learning the English language anew.
The day before everyone on my floor returned home for Easter vacation, they were hanging around in the kitchen. I walked in and Laura said, “Hiya! Do you want some sweets?” I saw at the bag in her hand, which looked like it was filled with cherry Twizzlers.
“Oh, like candy?” I asked.
She laughed, “Yeah, caaandy.” The others tried the word on the tongues and giggled too, making faces as if it tasted sour.
“I feel like a child saying the word caandy. They’re called sweets!” Angela said.
This happens on a daily basis. Some other words I’ve discovered the British equivalent for are:
- Stove = hub
- Appetizer = entre
- French fries = chips
- Chips = crisps
- Elevator = lift
- 6:30 = Half 6
- Towed = clamped
- Pharmacist = chemist
- Line/waiting in line = queue/queuing
- Band aid = Plaster
- Exhausted = Knackered
- Screw it = Stuff it
They also use the unit stones to measure weight. 1 stone = 14 pounds. That just blew my mind.
When I first arrived in Wales, people would always say to me, “You alright? You good?” And I’d say, “Yeah, I’m fine,” in a really confused tone, wondering why everyone kept asking me if I was okay. Did I look that disoriented all the time?
Then I figured out that it’s the same as saying, “Hey, what’s up?” or the casual, “Hey, how are you?” that people throw when they walk by you, rarely giving you the chance to actually respond.
“We (the British and Americans) are two countries separated by a common language.” – G.B. Shaw
~ Salma
10 Culture Shockers
21 Feb 2010 3 Comments
in Study Abroad Tags: cultureshock
Besides the jolt of reality that I am about 3500 miles away from home, a few aspects of Welsh culture made me stop and gape.
1. The Cars and Streets:
The first vehicle I got into was a taxi van. Before loading six bursting suitcases, the short, stout driver looked at us and said, “So you decided to bring all your shoes to Wales! Well then.” When he was done, I was confused as to why he waddled around to the right of the van, as if he was getting into the front passenger seat. Then I remembered that in the United Kingdom, they steer from the opposite side of the car and drive on the opposite side of the road. The disorientation is compounded.
I constantly expected traffic to start driving in our direction and crash into us. Worst of all were four-way intersections, two lanes to each road, where everything looked backwards and ready to to flip forwards in a catastrophic second. When Angela, the study abroad advisor, drove me to the chemist (the pharmacist) to get cold medicine, I felt like I was riding in a toy car. I sat in the front seat, staring at a dashboard where there would normally be a steering wheel, my legs outstretched to only find more carpet and no pedals.
Plus, the majority of cars are stick-shift, including Angela’s. She sat on the right, pulling and pushing, pulling and pushing a lever. I sat on the left, my foot pressing an imaginary break every time we made a turn, instinctively bracing myself for incoming traffic that never came.
2. The Faucets:
The first bathroom sink I used was at the French bistro, where we had our first dinner. Leanne pointed out that there were two knobs, one for hot water and another for cold. I frowned, thinking Yeah? So? Then I realized that each knob had it’s own spout too. Hot water came out of one faucet and cold out of another. The problem is that the hot water is always too hot, and the cold water too cold. There is no happy medium.
At first, I tried to cup some water from each extreme temperature and bring them together, but that failed. I also looked like an idiot. But now, my face and hands are used to the freezing chill when I wash them.
3. The Nightlife:
I arrived when the students were burning through the end of their exam period. Refreshers Week began the following Monday. To me, that meant Welcome Week, but to everyone else it meant seven nights of celebrating at clubs and bars. But apparently, the partying is a part of life, not only the first week of the semester. There are several planned events at clubs every week, with flyers all around campus advertising them.
There is frost on the ground, but every girl is wearing a short sleeved dress that stretches down only so far. Heels are a courageous 3 to 4 inches tall. No leggings or stockings included. (Even though it’s nearly zero degrees outside, the inside of the clubs are sweltering hot and people have to pay to use the coat rack. Consequently, no one wears coats, even though they spend quite a bit of time outside walking and in queues. Money > Health.)
4. The Alcohol:
Before I came, I knew that the legal drinking age is 18. What I didn’t expect was beer as a substitute for daily glasses of water. I’ve gotten used to the sour smell of alcohol, but drunk people still confuse me. They just seem like excited and outgoing versions of themselves, when I expect to see a dazed look in their eyes or hear slurred speech. But I can tell right away when the guys on my floor have been drinking because the blood rushes to their cheeks and their faces turn bright red.
There are 3 different reactions when I tell people I don’t drink: 1) “Oh. Okay.” 2) “That really sucks.” 3) “Wow. I wish I could stop drinking.”
5. The Welsh language: To me, it looks like someone fell asleep on the keyboard. Consonants are awkwardly shoved together and the letter Y is injected into the middle of way too many words.
6. Military time: My mind isn’t used to monitoring time with a 24 hour clock. When it’s later than noon, between 13:00 and 23:00, I have to count quickly in my head to figure out what time it is. The first time I was up late enough to see my clock hit 0:00, I was baffled, swearing to myself that I set the time when I plugged it in. After a few minutes of wondering whether or not the clock was broken, I realized that 0:00 is midnight.
7. Twice as many people get piercings: I’ve even seen them on cheekbones and chins. Lip rings seem to be the most popular. On Thursday, I saw a girl in my class with a piercing in the middle of her cleavage. That was a first.
8. The majority of students’ low standard of cleanliness: Most houses and flats in the village are like the one I described in a previous entry.
9. Police cars sound like squeaking wind up toys whizzing by.
10. Lastly, a POSITIVE shocker: Everyone is incredibly nice, from the bus drivers to strangers in grocery stores to all the students. The only people I have met who weren’t friendly were one or two American exchange students. Complete strangers will lend you money, crack a joke to you, or simply share a smile.
~ Salma
