23 Mar 2010
by Salma
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
01 Mar 2010
by Salma
in Study Abroad, Travel
Tags: bicycles, birthday, food, funny stories, palace, Travel Writing
Day 1 Running on Empty
Traveling to Amsterdam was an ordeal. We left the university around 5:30pm, and arrived 9am the next morning. I’ve decided that traveling at night is the worst. Here is why: You can’t sleep and by the time you get to your destination, you’re exhausted and all you want to do is crash. We rode a bus to England, hopped on a ferry to France, and the same bus drove off the ferry and through Belgium to Amsterdam. 15 1/2 hours total.
As soon as we got off the bus, we checked into the hostel. It was a lot nicer than I had expected, with a buzzer that monitors who gets into the lobby, a helpful front desk, and clean rooms. Leanne and I were lucky enough to get our own room and bathroom+shower.
Running on a short, rocky doze from the ferry and bus rides, we hit the streets. The first thing I noticed about the city was that it was swarming with people on bicycles. The second thing was the sophisticated transportation system. There was a sidewalk, a bicycle lane, a car lane, a rail-track, and a bus lane (I might be making this last one up..) – the whole set flowing smoothly in two opposite directions. The third thing was all the rivers and canals slicing through the streets. We crossed bridge after bridge after bridge. Wide water-ways weaved through the city, and we watched canal tours glide by, sending waves of ripples that cracked the sheets of glassy ice floating on the surface.
While walking down a street lined with eateries, a man with a belly and an apron stepped out of a Pizzeria and cried, “Bella!” In a handful of other Italian words, he invited us to dine. It was the perfect quaint place to eat. We told the manager that it was Leanne’s 21st birthday, and he brought her a tiramisu cake with a sparkler, on the house.
After lunch, we visited the Royal Palace in Amsterdam and wandered around the majestic, gaudy rooms. (I would lose my humanity living in a palace. I would turn into a porcelain doll.) Then we made the trek back to the hostel for a pre-dinner nap. I could have slept for hours, but I hoisted myself out of bed and 14 of us set out into the cold night for dinner and to celebrate Leanne’s birthday. Since I don’t drink, my hands were empty most of the night and I was the designated photographer. The group went bar-hopping and we ended in an Australian bar called Coco’s Outback. It played good music and we found a room for ourselves that looked down on the dance floor.
We didn’t get back to our rooms until 2am. At 4am, I woke up to a loud THUMP. I looked over the top bunk railing, saw Leanne tangled in her blanket on the floor, and heard her ask the darkness why she was down there. We had planned that she sleep on the bottom bunk just in case, accommodating her birthday celebrations, and we were right to. It was pretty hilarious.
~ Salma
