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| An American Knob |
We’ve all done it, right? Landed somewhere new and confidentially jumped into a conversation only to discover that maybe we kind of had things a little bit wrong. The pronunciation? The concept? The awkward pause and the sideways glance.
One of my most spectacular fails was at a conference in Sydney in my early twenties. I was full of excitement and ready to explore the city when I landed in the hotel lobby. Feeling very important I swaggered over to the concierge and asked how to get to Circular Quay. Except I didn’t. I asked, out loud, in front of an audience, how to get to Circular Kway.
I knew what I’d done immediately but it was too late. I was that girl. The girl that was about to become the topic of drinks after work on Friday night. Remember the chick who asked where Circular Kway was?
One of my favourite co-workers in Canada was an Aussie guy called Damien. He was what we’d refer to in Oz as a bit of spunk, a genuinely beautiful man with a twinkle in his eye and a keen sense of fun and adventure. Damien worked in sales, whether it was ice to eskimos or condoms to catholics – he could sell it. Â As a national recruitment company we were pleased to hear that we’d won the contract for Cirque du Soleil, we were in Canada and it was a huge national account. It gave us great prestige and it was a good name dropper on a sales call. Which was exactly why Damien thought he’d bring it up on a client visit. In a broad Aussie accent he told our Canadian clients that we of course would now be doing the recruitment for “Circus Olay”. The olay was said with the gusto of a spanish bullfighter. From memory the coffee I was drinking came out of my nose.
And then there are the moments where you’re sure you’re saying it right. And you are, or you would be if you were at home. Your words now have no meaning, or worse, a different meaning.
My long Australian “pants”, instantly becomes underwear to British friends and colleagues. Which is fine until you ask your boss if he’s wearing new pants. Being pissed in Australia is a happy moment involving alcohol, not so much in America. And I learnt the hard way not to ask if the school provided rubbers for my daughter or if we’d need to buy them.
Perhaps my favourite, was listening to an American friend talking to a group of Brits about her antics on the last day of school where she and her friends “greased the knobs”. I knew she meant the door handles, but those few seconds were just priceless.
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| A British Knob |
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My favourite is all those Canadians walking around with “Roots” written on their shirts…
OMG yes! And everyone in America is “rooting” for someone.
I was in Paris, with my parents, in my teens. My father insisted that my brother was 30 – the man behind the counter shook his head, non monsieur, – Dad went on and an about knowing how old his child is. Later I was able to tell him that my brother was, actually, 13!
I made friends with a family who moved to Brisbane from the UK. I was always thrown when instead of saying “hi, how are you?” They say, “you alright?” It took me a while not to respond, ” why, don’t I look well?” Funny now.
ha ha ha! As an American living in the UK with a British husband I get where you’re coming from with all these language differences. But you made me really laugh by describing a guy as ‘a bit of spunk’. I am guessing that in Australia ‘spunk’ or ‘spunky’ means the same as in the States -it is often used to describe children who are full of enthusiasm and energy and pep. But don’t say that in the UK- it is quite rude and means something altogether different which I won’t describe in detail!
Ha, yes. My family did the expat thing for a few years so I grew up in Australia, the US and New Zealand. Every move brought new types of social embarrassment and confusion as we learned the local “language”. I remember in the US my dad asking about a dog kennel in a pet shop and the confusion among the staff until he pointed to it and they said “oh you mean the dog HOUSE?” But my worst experience was in my twenties in Greece when I was working in a restaurant and still learning Greek, I tried to say in Greek “I have to fill the fridge” and I said “I have to f… the fridge.” All my co-workers trying desperately not to laugh… My husband still remembers it and reminds me occasionally.
Kind of like when G asked the taxi driver to stop so he could buy the small children. He meant garden furniture!!!!
Yes! And, “shall I meet you at yours then?”
I have no idea how Australia managed to do this, but we’ve made Spunky mean “hot” as in “attractive” although I’m showing my age – I don’t think people really say it anymore. In the 70’s you were a “dead set spunk”.
I remember asking about car hire and it was car rental – such a small thing but no-one knew what I was talking about. That fridge story is going to stay with me for the rest of the day, too funny!
My aussie husband once asked a Canadian waiter to “whack it on the grill for a few minutes would ya mate?”. He was referring to his under-cooked steak and not….. the other thing. We realised the mistake a few moments later when uproarious laughter emanated from the restaurant kitchen. He later told us it was the most unusual request he’d ever had as a waiter.
HAHA!!! Priceless! In my posting in Nicaragua, I meant to ask our office driver how long the trip would be (que largo es el viaje) but I unfortunately asked how long is the old man (que largo es el viejo)!!! 🙂 The poor driver simply responded, well, I honestly cannot say… hee hee!!!
Roots? What does it mean?!
My mom, from US, was in London and planning to meet up with a male friend. He asked if he should ‘knock her up’ when he got to the hotel. She was speechless. Then he was embarrassed when she explained what that meant in the US.
Men use their knobs to do it, Vanessa. 🙂 But only in Australia.
Yes, friends! In the US it is a great thing to root for your football team. But please don’t suggest it to an Australian. LOLOLOLOL.
As an Aussie expat child I heard the story of my (Aussie) Dad as a teacher standing up at high school assembly in Canada commenting on the changing weather and that the boys will soon be wearing their jumpers. Blank looks from staff and students, so I’m told.
Translation… Aussie jumper is a unisex wooly pullover or sweater. Canada/US jumper is a girl’s pinafore or all-in-one type dress. Not so cool for a boys school.
Ha! That gives a whole new meaning to the baseball song, “…Let me root, root, root for the hoooome teeeeeam, if theyyyy don’t win it’s a shaaaaaaame…”
Don’t forget “jerseys”!
In the southern USA, we have a dance called the Shag. At my small, women’s college we had a yearly event where we hired a band and all danced the shag with our friends and dates on the front lawn of the college. My sister was wearing a tshirt from the event once and her British friend asked what the event was about, to which my sister replied, ‘oh! We hire a band and shag on the front lawn all afternoon!’ British friend was pretty shocked!
See the bombers fly up! Yep, just doesn’t work does it 🙂
Yes, I went to the car to “go and get my jumper” many times in Canada. People were always interested to see what I was going to come back with. Singlet doesn’t work either.. 🙂