English-English dictionary needed
By BILL DUNCAN This may sound strange, but I recently had a guest lecturer for part of the three-hour class on writing I teach to some 21 students each week. What is strange about that is that my that my guest lecturer was a French college professor. His subject was not French, nor did he speak in French, except for an occasional word. His talk was appropriate because he spoke on the English written word. That, in itself would not be unusual since most of my students write in English. But professor Marcel Sarde explained he spoke British English. He had interned however, at the University of Washington, where he discovered Americans speak a different English. His talk was comparing the two common languages separated by and ocean. It was Oscar Wilde who wrote in 1887, “We have really everything in common with America nowadays expect, of course, language.” Marcel set about proving that. Let’s just look at English through the eyes of the English: Take food for instance. An eggplant is an aubergine. A sausage is a banger. Sausage and mashed potatoes are bangers and mash. A hamburger-type bun is a bap. A cookie is a biscuit. A dish of cold meat fried with cabbage and potatoes is a bubble and squeak. French fries are chips, but potato chips are crisps. Zucchini is a courgette. Graham crackers are digestives. A rutabaga is a swede. A pasty is a meat pie. Dessert is called afters. To the British, all of that is nosh which translates to “food to eat.” Our differences, Marcel explained, are more than in the food department. A ballpoint pen over there is a biro, A policeman is a bobby. The hood of an automobile is a bonnet and the car trunk is a boot. Suspenders are braces. Reflectors in the roadway are cat’s eyes. A drugstore is a chemist shop. A mobile home is a caravan. If all this that I have said so far is excellent, in the British Isles it would be topping. But don’t ask for a wash cloth at the hotel because it is a face flannel. If you are seeking a restroom, you had better ask for the facilities or the loo. And if you are looking for a hardware store, you’d better inquire about the ironmonger. Not only do the Brits drive on the wrong side of the road, but they have colorful names for their roadways. A four-lane divided highway is a dual carriageway. Yield signs will say give way. A crosswalk is zebra crossing. Walk ways alongside a river or a canal are towpaths. If you are asked to make a check mark on a document you will be expected to “tick it.” A flashlight is a torch. A can is a tin. Rubber boots are wellies. If you talk to much, you will be accused of nattering on. You will probably be told to put a sock on it, or in our language, shut up. If you cut yourself don’t ask for a band aid, but seek a plaster. And if you want your lunch to go, you better tell the waiter you want a take away. Agatha Christie’s novels taught me that a garage sale in England is a jumble. And if you need a strip of scotch tape, you best ask for sellotape. On the last voyage of the Queen Mary, my dining room steward told me I could order anything on the Queen Mary and they would supply it. I ordered a Dr. Pepper. After some puzzlement, he wanted to know if that was a medicinal drink. And on the ship’s last voyage I learned that a thumbtack is a drawing pin to the English. When I told my room steward that was a funny name for thumbtack, his polite reply was, “Sir, we have been speaking the language longer than Americans.” Touché, cousin, we just don’t speak the same language. (Bill Duncan can be reached by writing in American English to P.0. Box 812, Roseburg, OR 97470)
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