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Travel Cultures Language

The Many Worlds of English

by Joyce McGreevy on February 18, 2020

A female traveler looking at the electronic board of departures in an airport, symbolizing an opportunity for crossing cultures (Image © Jan Vašek/Pixabay)

Do you ticket travel only to countries that speak your language?
© Jan Vašek/Pixabay

Why Crossing Cultures Always Means Learning a Second Language

Most English speakers who travel internationally and enjoy crossing cultures have, at one time or another, depended on people in other countries to also speak English.  Such moments may arise because

  • even a polyglot is bound to miss one or two of the world’s 6800 languages.
  • your language learning app doesn’t cover how to say, “Could someone help me retrieve my cellphone from the hotel swimming pool?”
  • long-haul flights, long layovers, lost luggage, jet lag, and an unfamiliar environment have temporarily stalled your progress in speaking a second language.

Or as a public speaker once said, “It’s cool that people Over There are all multilingual and stuff, but me, I just travel where people speak English.”

British English and American English dictionaries suggest that crossing cultures is like learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pixabay)

Humorist Stephen Leacock wrote, “In Canada we . . . use English for literature,
Scots for sermons, and American for conversation.”
Photo by Pixabay

The Universal Language?

OK, the “public speaker” was actually a fellow airline passenger talking on his cellphone, but clearly, he intended everyone onboard to have the benefit of his perspective. As a flight attendant approached him, he delivered one last insight: “More people speak English than any other language.”

Did anyone correct our talkative traveler?  I’ll never know. We were all retreating into our headphones by this stage. But more than 1.2 billion speakers of Mandarin Chinese might beg to differ.

“We’re Number Two!”

English actually comes in second, with 983 million speakers. That includes people who speak English as a second or third language.

Still, it got me wondering. What if the man in Seat 37-B keeps his word—his English word, apparently—only visiting countries where English is an official language?

He will be in for a surprise. Because while millions of us around the world speak English, we don’t all speak it the same way.

Imagine our traveler in another English-speaking country. He puts down his cellphone long enough to hear a local say . . .

  1. I could murder a cuppa. (British English)
  2. Shall I be Mother? (ditto)
  3. Strong enough to trot a mouse across. (Irish English)
  4. Let’s grab a capp! (Australian English)
  5. One double-double. (Canadian English)
A mouse on a fence evokes a common expression in Irish English that might baffle American English speakers, suggesting that crossing cultures is like learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pixabay)

In Ireland, what’s “strong enough to trot a mouse across?”
Photo by Pixabay

None of these English speakers is engaged in foul play, role play, building a bridge for rodents, stealing a hat, or placing a bet.  The first three are discussing tea— craving it, pouring it, or brewing it—while the other two prefer coffee.

Oh, I see:  English, the universal language, spans a universe of languages.

Opposite World

Even when English speakers use the same words, they don’t always have the same meaning:

  • In Canada, to table a motion means to consider a proposal. In the U.S., it means to set it aside. When Canadians write a test, they’re the ones taking it.
  • In England, public school is what Americans call private school, and vice versa.
  • In Ireland, being called bold or cute is not a compliment. The former means you’re acting out, the latter means you’re sneaky.

Like Day and Night

Something as simple as daily routine highlights differences among the worlds of English:

  • In Ireland, wearing a vest to work would mean showing up in your undershirt.  A waistcoat completes that three-piece suit. Putting on pants? Do add trousers, or you’ll get chilly legs and chillier looks.
A brogue, or shoe, highlights the differences in American, Irish, British, and other English language words. (Public domain image by Pxhere)

No one in Ireland “speaks with a brogue,”
but some wear brogues on their feet.
Photo by Pxhere

  • In many English-speaking countries, drivers check under the bonnet and stow belongings in the boot before motoring to the company car park (or in Canada, the parkade). They top up the petrol, too. But if the car is munted (NZ), goosed (Scotland), or banjaxed (Ireland), they may ring a taxicab or cadge a lift from a friend.
A utility vehicle, or ute, evokes a common expression in Australian English that might baffle American English speakers, suggesting that crossing cultures is like learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pxhere)

Fear not the deadly ute! That’s Australian English for “impressive SUV!”
Photo by Pxhere

Eating Your Words

After work, do the messages (shop for groceries). In a hurry? In England, order a bacon sarni (sandwich) or other takeaway from the chippy. Wash it down with a bevvy. Don’t need much? In New Zealand, pop into the convenient corner dairy.

Dairy cows evoke a common word in New Zealand Kiwi English that might baffle American English speakers, suggesting that crossing cultures is like learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pixabay)

You won’t find cows at a New Zealand dairy—just grocery staples.
Photo by Pxhere

Prefer home cookery? American English speakers might puzzle over a shopping list of common words like rocket, capsicum, courgette, aubergine—or arugula, peppers, zucchini, eggplant. A Scottish English list might include brambles, tatties, and ‘neeps—berries, potatoes, and turnips or swedes.

Set the table with cutlery, crockery, and serviettes. Afterward, serve afters—dessert. During the  washing-up, don’t be a silly eejit (Ireland) who overloads the garburetor (Canada) with food scraps.

Give Me a Break!

While Americans take vacations, many English speakers go on holiday. In New Zealand, Kiwi English speakers head to a bach, or holiday home, pack togs for swimming, and wear sunnies to protect their eyes. They take off their trainers, slip their feet into jandals, and sip cold stubbies from the chilly bin. But if the weather suddenly turns, they’ll don a pair of gum boots, a.k.a. wellies.

A boy at the beach wearing gum boots, wellies, or rain boots shows that English word meanings differ in different cultures, suggesting that crossing cultures is like learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pixabay)

Wade into any language and you’ll net fascinating finds.
Photo by Pixabay

Wading into a World of Words

As you can see, English, like all languages, is dynamic, forever exploring the multilingual. On almost every continent, different cultures shape English to suit their own needs, influences, and sense of place.

So where does this leave our traveler from Seat 37-B?

I’m hoping that as he explores the worlds of English,  talking with people in new places, he’ll discover that differences enliven communication. That differences are, interestingly, something we all have in common. That crossing cultures and delighting in differences can even lead to the fun—and benefits—of learning a second language.

Two men enjoying conversation evoke the fun of learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pxhere)

Why blather on your mobile?  Wherever you travel,
a proper natter with chums is much more fun!
Photo by Pxhere

See John McWhorter’s TedTalk on reasons to learn a second language here.

Comment on the post below. 

Memorable Moments: Love is in the Air

by Your friends at OIC on February 11, 2020

Valentine’s Day puts love in the collective spotlight once a year, but as these heartfelt posts from the past remind us, love and its steady stream of “Oh, I see!” moments are a constant.

A Walk on the Winter Side

by Joyce McGreevy on February 4, 2020

An intrepid traveler on a beach in East Sussex, England is proof of the power of wanderlust over the forces of winter’s chill. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Winter at an English beach is definitely “chill.”
© Joyce McGreevy

 Winter Wanderlust in East Sussex

Rows of wooden beach huts are locked up tight, their colors vibrant as summer memories.  Gray waves lunge at the Seven Sisters, chalk cliffs along England’s South Coast. January winds drive sand in fitful circles around deserted picnic tables.

Traditional English beach huts on a deserts beach in East Sussex reminds a traveler with winter wanderlust that summer will return. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Before beach huts were introduced in the 1900s, changing for a swim was done in a
bathing machine that, for modesty’s sake, was towed out to sea.
© Joyce McGreevy

But here we come in our oilskin jackets, woolen scarves flapping gamely in the wind. We are the winter travelers, hardy wanderers who love to travel out of season.  This year, winter wanderlust leads some of us to East Sussex.

The Seven Sisters chalk clods on England’s South Coast inspire wanderlust, attracting tourists even in winter. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Do the Seven Sisters cliffs look familiar? They stood in for the White Cliffs of Dover
in the movie “Atonement.
© Joyce McGreevy

Call us daft if you want, but we don’t mind. After all, we can’t hear you through our sensible “tea-cozy” hats.

Overwintering, underpaying

There are distinct advantages to traveling in winter. Affordability for one. Some of my favorite sojourns have coincided with cold, rainy seasons. Despite the Einstein Effect on my hair, it never dampens my spirits. With steep discounts on accommodation, I happily pack an umbrella.

Rainy English weather and a lush green garden in East Sussex remind a traveler that winter travel has its rewards. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

England’s rainy days yield green winter dividends.
© Joyce McGreevy

My holiday base is a red brick bungalow with a sweeping view of the English Channel. To the east is Seaford, whose quiet, polite atmosphere belies a tumultuous history. Centuries ago, when it wasn’t being attacked by French pirates, the town had a reputation for looting—and causing—shipwrecks. It also tended to burn down with alarming frequency.

A churchyard in Seaford, East Sussex evokes the contrast between the tranquility of the setting and the turbulence of the local history. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Things eventually quieted down in once rowdy Seaford.
© Joyce McGreevy

Fortunately for crown and country, not to mention life and limb, the River Ouse silted up. This rendered Seaford worthless as a port but great at producing remarkable people.

The doctor who first diagnosed dyslexia lived in Seaford. So did three of England’s prime ministers, a NASA astronaut, a Rock and Roll Hall of Famer, the logo designer for Johnny Walker Black, and a Who’s Who of famous actors.

Exploring East Sussex

You don’t need a car to meander along England’s South Coast. Even small towns boast frequent daily rail services.

A train in East Sussex, one of many, makes it easy to follow your winter wanderlust and travel between the historic towns of England’s South Coast. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

The train to Newhaven will drop off passengers for the ferry to Dieppe, France.
© Joyce McGreevy

Train stations here have been hard at work since 1840, when the railway connected England’s capital to the south coast. Soon, a steady supply of Londoners streamed—or rather, steamed into seaside resorts.

Follow your winter wanderlust to the train station in Rye, East Sussex, which dates back to the mid-1800s when the British railway connected London to England’s South Coast. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

When railways arrived in Sussex, they provided an alternative to waterways.
© Joyce McGreevy

Brighton is the most famous, a bohemian boomtown that attracted Regency high society and working-class day-trippers.  It’s also set the scene for a long list of movies.

Brighton Palace Pier in winter has an eerie magic that inspires wanderlust to travel to East Sussex, England in the off season. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

At historic Brighton Palace Pier, a winter storm comes out to play.
© Joyce McGreevy

Farther east, Hastings may look familiar to fans of the British television series “Foyle’s War,” a detective drama set during World War II.

Here in 1066, William the Conqueror won the Battle of Hastings, radically altering Britain’s history by wresting it from Scandinavian influence. As William’s Norman courtiers smuggled new French words into the Anglo-Saxon language, the resulting mix became modern English.

Hastings, East Sussex, a key location for the British television series “Foyle’s War” and England’s steepest funicular railway are inspire travelers with wanderlust, even in winter.

For a scenic shortcut in 1066 Country, make haste to Hasting’s funicular railway.
Photos by Pixabay and Pxhere

A Pocketful of Rye

Don’t overlook the smaller towns. One of the most captivating is Rye. For centuries, it prospered as a royal port—and a popular haunt of smugglers. Over time, the sea receded by two miles, and Rye became less lively, much to its benefit.

The lyrics of Rudyard Kipling’s “A Smuggler’s Song” on a wall in East Sussex reflect the turbulent history of England’s South Coast. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Poet Rudyard Kipling, a man of Sussex, collected local lore.
© Joyce McGreevy

Today, Rye deals chiefly in visitors, who come for the sheer pleasure of wandering its beautifully preserved streets.

Mermaid Street in winter means fewer tourists in the picturesque town of Rye, which inspires a traveler whose wanderlust has led her to visit the historic towns of East Sussex, England. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Some buildings in Rye are so old that they were renovated in the 1400s.
© Joyce McGreevy

To experience Rye in January is to discover the best reason for winter travel: no crowds. You can explore the twitterns, scenic alleyways that link the labyrinthine streets, without walking a gauntlet of kidney-crushing elbows. You can linger in idyllic settings without crashing anyone’s photo opp.

In Rye, a twittern, or scenic alleyway offers tranquility to a traveler with wanderlust for a winter holiday in East Sussex, England. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

The twitterns of Rye set an Anglophile traveler’s heart a-twitter.
© Joyce McGreevy

Rye is so small you can’t get lost, except in reverie. Stroll the cobbles of Mermaid Street and you may feel as if you’ve stepped into a literary novel.

You have.

In the 1920s, author and former mayor E.F. Benson used a barely disguised version of Rye as the setting of Mapp and Lucia, his popular series of humorous novels. In brief, it’s an epic battle of brilliant wits and wealthy twits. Two public television adaptations were also filmed in Rye.

Even before Benson’s tenancy, Lamb House was home to another famous novelist, Henry James. In 1898, the author was on a quest for a “charming, cheap old” refuge when he spotted a painting of the place and fell in love with it. During 19 years there he wrote many of his greatest novels.

A view of the rooftops of Rye, a picturesque English town in East Sussex, England, is ample reward for a traveler with wanderlust for a winter vacation in England. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

“Old, square, red-roofed, well assured of the place it took up in the world, “
wrote Henry James of his home in Rye.
© Joyce McGreevy

Winter Pleasures

Summer in East Sussex buzzes with entertainment, like the world-famous famous Glyndebourne opera festival and Eastbourne’s Magnificent Motor Rally.

A replica of the 1902 halter skelter on a winter’s day evokes wanderlust for summer excursions to the Brighton Palace Pier on England’s South Coast. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Since 1902, revelers have raced to the top of the helter skelter
—in summer, that is.
© Joyce McGreevy

But the quieter pleasures of winter have a richness all their own. Brisk walks make a virtue of visiting pubs with open fires and friendly locals. Old bookshops, eccentric museums, and ancient churches become places to linger, for true fascination cannot be rushed.

Oh, I see: The slower pace of winter can deepen one’s sense of place.

A tiny bookshop in Rye, a picturesque town in East Sussex, inspires wanderlust for winter travel to England. (Image © Joyce McGreevy)

Ideal for one or two customers at a time, Rye’s Tiny Book Store accommodates countless fictional characters.
© Joyce McGreevy

And so, I settle in one rainy evening with a cup of tea and a copy of Mapp and Lucia. On the page, it’s summer in Rye, a terribly hot June morning, and the eglantine is in full flower.

Thanks to winter wanderlust, I can picture it all so clearly.

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