“The passengers had a whip round for the stewardesses, when they found out they have been made redundant,” said my friend who speaks English, but not our kind of English.
If you have been binge watching shows more than usual this past year, inevitably one or more will either be set in England or Ireland, Australia, or New Zealand. Inevitably you may decide to turn on the captions, since understanding the accents becomes a challenge.
The movies and shows come highly recommended; therefore, you are motivated to indulge yourself and put in the effort to pay attention and decipher the words. Remember “The Full Monty”? I thought it referred to stripping, but it actually refers to taking something to the absolute limits, which they did. Time to watch that movie again, I remember it being delightful.
The accents present their own problem, but once you read the words or can hear the words, even then they don’t always make sense. Having been exposed to the Queen’s English through friends who moved here and Australian through a nephew by marriage, I can translate some of it, some of the time.
We all know boot means the trunk of the car and swimming costume is just their swimming suits, but when they wear Wellies, we might not know that refers to boots. Now we have come full circle and accept that they have a different word for everything.
This always reminds me of Winston Churchill quoting G.B. Shaw, “(We are) two nations divided by a common language.”
Having conversations is a bit easier than movies and series, because there are props and context, and the ability to ask what appear to be quite elementary questions like, “Why would anyone call the hood of the car a bonnet?”
I didn’t think they were actually offering us biscuits, since we had just finished dinner, but being polite I said, yes, of course. We were pleasantly surprised to be served a plate of sweet cookies, not savory Pillsbury-like pieces of dough.
Something as simple as pants can cause bewilderment in a conversation. I told my friend that I liked her pants and she wondered out loud, if her underwear was showing. Trousers are pants. Pants are underwear. Jumper isn’t a sleeveless dress worn over a blouse, as in a school uniform, a jumper is a sweater. My husband wondered if it had something to do with jumping a car battery, but that’s just a man for you.
Don’t even get me started on football. I thought David Beckham played soccer, but again I refrained from challenging until I deduced, they were talking about soccer, and the Packers had nothing to do with it.
When we lose the meaning of words, we lose the thread of the conversation. Don’t be discouraged, what’s lost “across the pond” can be revived once we’re in the flow of storyline. It is a good exercise in listening and paying full attention.
At times, it might be easier to say “bugger off” when you tire of missing the gist of conversation. However, when you discover the truly offensive nature of the phrase and the vulgarity of the meaning, you quickly change your mind and ask politely what the meaning of the words “whip-round” was.
Translation of the opening sentence, “The passengers did a pass the hat to collect money for the stewardesses, when the stewardesses found out in flight that they had all been let go, because the airline was going out of business.”
I’m not blaming them for not communicating in good old American, that would be passing the buck. Which to our British friends would mean a male deer. “Passing the buck” originated during the American Frontier and indicated whose turn it was to deal in poker by passing a marker such as a knife with a buckhorn handle. If the dealer didn’t want to deal, he’d pass the buck.
It has morphed into blaming, abdicating responsibility, weaseling out of ownership and is used universally. President Harry Truman knew the phrase and instead of getting his knickers in a bundle, he declared “the buck stops here.” Now that I understand.
Kay Stellpflug is an educator and trainer in interpersonal and professional communications. She works and lives in Beaver Dam and can be reached at kaystellpflug@gmail.com.
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