For the past year, I have worked at the front desk of a Barry's Bootcamp in central London. My American-ness has never been so apparent as when I’m on shift. It’s not so much that others tell me I’m soo American (although they have), but that in my interactions with others, I notice the difference in our lexicons. The first time I said "gym shoes,” I was looked at like I had two heads. Most of the clients have no idea what I mean when I say “I can ring you up,” and I have recently adopted "Hiya" into my vocabulary (previously only a term I used on 2009-era Facebook messenger).
I love language, etymology, and our power to change the way we write and speak. I love to recommend the NYT Dialect Test to people to see their surprise when they find out that where they are from can be predicted by 20 multiple-choice questions. I marvel at the way that my friend group’s vocal fry increases exponentially as we spend time together, and I cherish the moments when I realize that I have started using a phrase from one of my close friends (ex: here’s the thing). When I first moved to London, I would laugh at myself when I said words like “reckon,” amazed at how quickly the Brits had rubbed off on me, and I was amused by my trouble transcribing from lecture slides in British English to my notes in American English — is there a “u” in the word neighborhood where I’m from? (answer: there isn’t, although I think it looks better with one).
When I studied abroad in Paris, I would notice myself thinking using French conjunctions or talking to myself in Franglais, but it never felt consuming. I was Isabelle in Paris and it was fun to think about my coffee order en français. Now as, Isabelle in London, I spend a lot of time thinking about what words to use and more importantly, what words I should use. I’m living in limbo between American and British English at all times. To my friends and family at home, I sound “different,” and to everyone here, “American.” Yesterday, while confiding in another American about living in London, I was told “we sound too American for the Brits, and too British for the states.” As far as I can tell, one of the earliest indicators of the American-to-British transition is when you begin to refer to America as “the states.”
At the end of the day, I am not experiencing a unique phenomenon. Most of the world speaks more than one language, so code-switching is extremely common. Nevertheless, it has been an unexpectedly humbling experience to be constantly questioning my own language. I am in a constant state of uncertainty. Have I spelled this word right? Should I spell it the British way since I’m in London or the American way since I’m American? When do I guard the words in my native vocabulary? And when do I embrace what I can only assume is a crisis for all ex-pats, which is when they realize they started saying, “I’m going to the loo.” 🙄
A brief list of language preferences and observations:
Bin > garbage
Candy > sweets
I go 50/50 on clothing vocabulary. I love the word jumper, but knickers is too funny a word to use seriously.
“Picky bits” is a very cute way to describe a picnic or charcuterie board.
I blame the Fleetwood Mac album “Rumours” for the start of all my spelling confusion.
I will never use “bloody” the British way, and if I do, please drag me back across the pond.
Americans should adopt “peckish” as a way to describe being in the mood for a little treat.
Cursing sounds better in London, but more serious in America.
Cheers,
Isabelle Xx
As an expat Australian living in Chicago for 24 years, I can totally relate to everything. The words Rumour and Neighbour have a “u” in them, always come up underlined when I use them, I dare not correct them as I feel I lose my Australian roots. I work at a Potterybarn here and if I had a dollar for every time someone comments on my accent … I would rival Bezos 🤣. I sometimes get strange looks from people when I reference things differently, like couch instead of sofa, boot instead of trunk etc. Language is the only thing we have that defines us and hard to change it’s roots. Having also lived in Greece for extensive periods of time I was never Greek enough there as well. My schooling was at a private Church of England in Australia, so I don’t have what I can the Nicole Kidman Australian drawl. Everyone thinks I am English and over the years a handful of people have correctly guessed where I am from. I think people are also fascinated when a person from another country lives amongst them in the most ordinary way!! So… as the Brits would say “ carry on chaps and have a bloody good time -Cheers” .
Love this!