Lost in Translation: Figuratively and Literally

If you have heard anything of our trip to England or of our time here, you know that we have had numerous things go wrong or simply defy our expectations. Of course, language has not proved to be a huge problem, but there have been a few instances in which it has made a difference. First, here are a few examples that I’ve come across.

Pants=trousers
Bathroom=toilets
Wash cloths=flannels (At least I think this is true. This is what a lady at a charity shop told me, but when I mentioned it at the next charity shop, that lady wasn’t sure what I meant.)
Spaghetti=Bolognese (Rebecca and I discovered this one at the grocery while looking for “spaghetti sauce.” I looked through rows and rows of cans looking for it and could only see this “Bolognese sauce.” I kept thinking, “What is this? It’s everywhere. It must be popular.” Then I noticed combinations of flavors and the pictures on the cans and realized what it must be. I whispered to Rebecca over the shopping cart, “It must be spaghetti sauce!” This came in handy because when one of my flatmates asked if her pasta dish looked like “Bolognese,” I was able to answer “yes” with great confidence. I’m still not sure how to pronounce this word, by the way.)

One of the guys from my program, Charles, and I were looking for a store that sold bed sheets. We had spent enough time since London walking around without knowing where we were going, so we stopped in a charity to ask for directions. Inside, two elderly ladies told us to just go down the street to what sounded like “EmKay” or “McKay.” We walked for some time until we saw a sign for M&Co. Sure enough, they sold bed sheets.

I have yet to learn how to distinguish between different accents. It is sometimes disconcerting that everyone knows that I’m from the United States as soon as I open my mouth. Yet I was asked at a party if I had picked up any of the local accent. I told him that I said certain words differently, as I thought that I had done unconsciously since London. The word in question was “sorry.” Granted, the guy had had some alcohol by that time, but he said that I almost sounded Welsh. Oh, well. I do not plan to try to pick up the accent. That would make me a wannabe.

As far as being literally lost, I can’t even begin to count the number of times that I’ve asked for directions. I’ve been lost on campus (sometimes with no time to spare to get to class, and one time I had to ask around two or three times before I found the building), in the library in the Founder’s building (I couldn’t find the exit!), in Staines, in Egham looking for a place to eat dinner, in Staines and in Egham looking for bus stops. Now when I say lost, I mean knowing where you are in relation to other things but trying to find something that you know is in the general vicinity but is not visible.

I’m sure that more of these incidents will occur as I continue my stay in the Land of Her Majesty. But it’s fun exploring the town and learning new things (like cooking!). Each time, I’ve been able to laugh at myself and rest in the comfort that I (hopefully) won’t make the same mistake twice.