A Wee Lay-up

I have lived abroad before, in France actually. I should, therefore, know what to expect about cultural differences, right? What I am finding instead is more often than not I am caught off guard by something someone says, or I say something that is completely inappropriate for the circumstances. But why?

English is my native language. French is not. Simple enough, I realize, but it makes all the difference and not in the way you might think. It is easier to be caught off guard in an English-speaking country than a French-speaking one.

While in France, I have to think about the correct word or phrase in every situation. The only way to continue to grow my French language skills is to be constantly “on,” constantly learning, and the only people from whom I learned were those with whom I would come into contact. I remember a particular day in France when I was talking to a friend, and I said, “ça peur.” It has no direct translation, but idiomatically it means, “that’s scary.” I was proud of myself. My friend laughed. To her, I was supposed to talk like a book, not a French person. Together we realized that I was integrating. It was a big step.

I do not have that problem in English. I do not have to be “on.” I just talk, right? I reckon, though, it is just a matter of time before I am keen to hang out and go for a wee drink, eh? Oh wait . . .

I feel as though I am living in the twilight zone. I am not sure what my patterns are and what I consider normal anymore until I am confronted by something that seems strange. For example, many flights in New Zealand are on 60-seat planes. After flying a lot, the first time I had to get on a 737 (you know, what Southwest flies), I was struck by how big it is. I was just on one again yesterday, after not flying for awhile, and it felt “normal.” I guess time away from the extraordinary makes old friends ordinary.

But this week has struck me on two fronts, woken me up to the fact that I really am in a foreign country that speaks a different language, sometimes a non-verbal one. (I have to share that, in college, I lived with 3-4 linguists, and these sorts of conversations dominate(d) our conversations.)

One of my friends here is from Australia, and she received two basketball tickets. She did what any normal, non-basketball going person would do – she called an American. Yes, my friends, I went to a basketball game in a small town in New Zealand. I would say it might be able to contend with Division B in college. Might is the operative word in that sentence.

Proof.

Basketball, to me, is America. I played growing up, and as an almost 30-year-old woman, that is unusual in the rest of the world. Girls here play netball (I have no idea what it is, either), and in France, when I asked what girls do in school, my host sister said, “dance.” So, I am proud of the fact that basketball is a major sport in the United States, for boys and girls, and it is the only truly American sport, created in the 1880s at a YMCA. The point is that basketball makes me think about home.

The announcer was about the most honest announcer I have ever heard. He told us how the team had been on and off all season, and this being the last game of the season, they had to really pull it together. If the other team scored an undefended point, we were sure to hear that a defender should have been there. It sounded like the commentary from Harry Potter Quidditch, not a basketball game.

But the proof that I was not in America were the references to the wee layups and the wee free throws. Basketball Kiwified! And that was not all. In America, we root for our favorite teams, right? Well, rooting has quite a different connotation, and it is not something you discuss in public at family friendly events. Here, you support a team. I was careful . . . until I was not. Luckily, my friend understood, and no one else could hear me. It is hard to be on when at a place that feels so comfortable.

So, the wee plays and careful word choice on my part made the evening interesting. I also had to explain the game to my friend; she had never before attended a basketball game. Luckily, it being New Zealand, the announcer also added in a bit of rule explanation. Apparently, this is not a popular sport here. Overall, I had a great time living in language/culture purgatory. An American movie helped me realize that I cannot escape it.

I am back up in Wellington for a few days; we have a Fulbright event to attend. I planned to stay with a friend Monday night, but thanks to the ash cloud, she is stuck away from Aotearoa, the land of the Long White Cloud (the Maori name for NZ), and instead of bugging someone last minute, I decided to stay in a hostel. Facebook was alive with great references to Bridesmaids, so I went to see what all the fuss was about. For the record, we must look insane to the rest of the world.

First American movie in months, what is my first thought? They were driving on the wrong side of the road. Oy! I guess all my “look right” reminding worked. While watching movies in France, I knew they were seeing a translation, which is really an adaptation (another thesis of mine in my old life). The funniest experience I ever had was seeing Matrix 2 in France during the scene where the “bad guy” repeats about every French swear word there is in a matter of about 10 seconds. The place erupted in laughter. But here in NZ, they do not translate the films. There are no subtitles running in Kiwi. They get to see the American version even if it makes no sense. And I get to see where I fit into the mix.

Before the movie, the woman sitting next to me was explaining living in Christchurch to a friend. I guess she moved up here or is visiting from the earthquake-weary city. I heard her explain the 22 February earthquake. I suppressed the urge to tell her I had also been there, to find a bond, but I sat there realizing I was in the Twilight Zone of my mind – somewhere between the United States and Aotearoa.

I may not struggle to find my words on a daily basis here, and I may technically understand everything that goes on around me, but each day, I am struck by the fact that I am not in the United States anymore. It is fun to see where I have transformed and what my new “normal” is. If nothing else, it keeps me on my toes, eh?

© 2011 Rebecca Stahl, all rights reserved

Words, Words, Words

While culturally I have found few major differences between the United States and New Zealand, linguistically I may as well be speaking a foreign language here. When I was teaching English in France, I co-taught with a woman from England (a dear friend now), and once one of the students asked us if we spoke the same language. We just laughed. Here, not a day goes by that I do not learn a new word.

The woman who so graciously allowed me to stay with her upon my arrival (only for 3 weeks longer than she had originally planned), and who will soon be gracing the United States (specifically Iowa) with her presence, let me borrow a book called A Kiwi-American dictionary. It was slightly, okay very, outdated, but it was hilarious. I reckon the time has come for me to share some of what I have learned – the top 10 kiwi words and phrases!

1.     Reckon – there is nothing inherently funny about the word reckon, but notice it in the sentence above. To an American, saying “I reckon” sounds a wee bit more proper than we would like. It sounds like Jon Stewart making fun of Queen Elizabeth. In kiwiland, I heard an 8-year-old say it . . . with a straight face!!

2.     Wee – wee simply means small here, as in “a wee bit.” Here, it seems everyone says it all the time. And they say it without the use of “bit” after it. Thus, a wee nap is a proper use of the word.

3.     Kiwi / kiwi / kiwifruit – now this just gets confusing. To an American, a kiwi is something you eat. Here, that would get you put in prison, either for killing an endangered bird or for cannibalism. A Kiwi is a person who lives here, a nickname of sorts for the folks who live in New Zealand. At first I was embarrassed to use it, but people here actually do use the word. Cool, eh? A kiwi is a small flightless bird. New Zealand used to be full of flightless birds because there were no predator mammals (the only native mammal in New Zealand is one species of bat). The kiwi is now incredibly endangered, and most people can only see them in wildlife reserves – my parents saw some when they were here. The kiwifruit? Well, that’s the fruit. They are gorgeous here (and by gorgeous I mean the taste, not the sight – that’s a kiwism as well). See my problem? It just gets so confusing!!

4.     Zed – Ok, ok, it’s not really a word, but it is the last letter of the alphabet. The friendly friends to the north of the United States understand this one, but to those of us from that middle country of North America, this is an odd way to end the alphabet, especially when banks are called ANZ (pronounced A-N-Zed) and when you say X-Y-Z (pronounced X-Y-Zed). We knew we had been spending too much time in the Future Partners Forum when I was talking and said X-Y-Zed and shortly thereafter one of our kiwi friends said X-Y-Zee. None of us knew where we were, which I guess was sort of the point of the partnership – finding new ways to get along. Let’s start with the last letter of the alphabet and move forward from there.

5.     False friends – rooting and rubber. These may not be good in a Top 10 list, but they must be mentioned. Luckily I had been forewarned. In New Zealand, rooting means something very different than in the States. It means sex. Thus, you do not root for a team, and you certainly do not root around in your trunk for something you lost, especially because here, the trunk of a car is called the boot. And a rubber? Well, that is just an eraser, but something we must all warn the kiwis not to request in general public in the United States.  

6.     Sweet as! – used as an exclamation, as in “Sweet as!” There are simply no words to explain this. It just is . . . sweet as!

7.     Sorted – “Have you got your flatting situation sorted?” Does this make any sense to an American? Try that being one of the first things you hear upon entering a country. I thought I did not understand French when I got there, but then I came to a country where they do not speak American. Sorted is just “to sort out,” but they use it here far more frequently. You get parking tickets sorted and plans sorted, etc. Luckily, I have met amazing people here, so my flatting situation is sorted until the end of my time here.

8.     Cheers – often used in conjunction with “mate,” as in “cheers, mate.” Of course, mate it often saved for one’s actual mates. Thus, cheers can simply mean thanks. What a wonderful word that never ceases to make me smile.

9.     Keen – This is a verb, as in “I’m keen to go on a hike out to the Peninsula.” In fact, my actual response was, “I’m hella keen.” I figure it’s time to meld some phrasing while I’m here. And yes, everyone says it here, just like reckon. They do not, however, say hella – but I can hope, right?

10. Good on you! – this is, by far, my favorite kiwi phrase. Oh, does it appear everywhere meaning “good for you,” sort of. It just seems to work for all situations where you want to tell someone that they are doing a good thing for the world.

So, do we speak the same language? I have begun to understand kiwi English, and what is scarier, I have begun to speak like them. I reckon that will help me fit in better here, but it will be difficult to get my life sorted when I get back to the States if I forget how to talk like a Yankee. There are far more words I can share, but for now, that will do. 

© 2011 Rebecca Stahl, all rights reserved