Imagine, if you can, that your whole life you had been deceived.
Tricked into thinking you were something you weren’t. And then suddenly, nineteen years into this deception the truth comes to light in a cruel and painful manner.
All my life I foolishly believed that I was speaking English. That somehow by being born in England and having England registered as my home country and mother tongue on all official documents guaranteed that the language I was speaking was English.
And then I came to America. No one understood a word.
Trying to argue that Americans speak English and the fact that I come from England, the originator of this noble language, automatically means that I am using the right words, does not wash in a country of around 310 million all saying sweater when I am saying jumper.
Suddenly a handbag becomes a purse, a purse becomes a wallet, pants become something you wear on the outside, not the underneath, and no one bats an eyelid at an area being called Nob Hill. (If you want to know why there is always an English person sniggering when someone mentions Nob Hill, ask them what a knob translates to in English.) Until I came to America I did not realise the extent of the language barrier I would be facing and I definitely wasn’t prepared for the fact that the language I had been speaking all my life was not always considered “English” by Americans.
Thankfully, my close friends have become accustomed to my eccentric turns of phrase and have now found themselves in the position of full-time translators for me whenever we are out in public. They become particularly helpful when trying to navigate the bus system of Albuquerque:
“Does the bus drop us off at the car park by the shopping centre?”
“She means the parking lot by the mall.”
I dread to imagine which depths of gang-land Albuquerque I would have found myself in without my trusty translator.
Other times it is not the language but the sheer thickness of my London accent that stumps unsuspecting Americans. Whilst my friends are used to trying to decipher words and meanings out of my peculiar London lilt, it completely blindsides most people, such as the woman in Dunkin’ Donuts who, after her third attempt at understanding my request for a bottle of water (instead of a “baadle uv waader”) gave up and handed me a doughnut.
On these occasions my English friends and I have developed a new survival technique: if all else fails, put on an American accent.
However, recently I have found this trick starting to backfire.
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Its official: I’ve become Americanized with a capital Zee.
Suddenly I am greeting friends with calls of “Haaaaaay Girrrrrll”, referring to everyone as “this b****” and agreeing to everything said with a simple “seriously.” I feel like I could comfortably put ‘bilingual’ on my C.V. (résumé) without batting an eyelid. The new language possibilities opened up to me are endless. I now have a thousand new words at my disposal to describe an ever-astounding world.
Instead of finding it a limitation to not be understood in my own language it has just helped me to find new ways of communicating with people on their level. Multiculturalism isn’t something to be feared; it is something to be embraced, as a way to open up your mind to a million new possibilities for expression, both linguistically and culturally.
Having an accent has also meant that I have made so many more friends — even if none of them have a clue what I’m saying, and I’m pretty sure half of them think I’m Australian. Although many outsiders are quick to brand Americans as close-minded, I have found this country to be one of the most open and embracing of foreignness.
I am never without someone to talk to, and every day I meet a new person who wants to learn something about a different culture. Despite the painful language/accent-barrier, being different has allowed me to meet so many more people, all fascinated with the fact that they can’t understand a word I am saying.
And I like to think that before I leave I will have given something back to the American language. I have started to hear my American friends say things with just the slightest hint of an English accent and a few of them have even ordered chips instead of fries.
It is amazing to see first-hand how much language is a living thing, altered by people and surroundings. So if you hear someone who is feeling lazy or unbothered saying ‘mehh,’ just know that it came from this English girl.
