To quote one of my favorite comedians, Eddie Izzard. "They say Britain and America are two countries separated by the Atlantic Ocean. And it's true. No, they say two countries separated by a common language." That's the line. It's an Oscar Wilde line, I think.

[Actually, we learned on my Irish lit course trip to Ireland that it is often falsely credited to Oscar Wilde, but it was actually Bernard Shaw who said it. Anyway, back to Eddie Izzard. He was performing in San Francisco, so the "you" he is refering to is Americans.]

"You say a-LU-minum. We say alu-MlN-ium. You say cen-TRl-fugal. We say centri-FU-gal. You say bay-sil. We say bah-sil. You say 'erbs and we say herbs, why? Because there's a freakin' H in it."

He is hilarious, everyone should look him up on Youtube, particularly his clip bilingual. (Look up "Eddie Izzard Bilingual".)

As my friends know, I pronounce some of my words the British way, due to having lived in England before, and also from growing up and hearing Mom pronounce words a certain way. Anyone who knows me has heard my "How have you been?" (bEEn. Not ben, or bin, as many others say.) And I say vihtamin, instead of vietamin, litrature, instead of LitERature and yohgurt, instead of YOgurt.

(I remember one day thinking about the fact that most people in the U.S. say YOgurt, and suddenly connecting it to the Go-gurts liquid yogurt that you can buy. All of a sudden, that name made a lot more sense. Haha.)

It is neat to be in a country when those pronunciations fit in with what most of the nation is saying, but here those few words aren't noticed. Instead the minute I open my mouth, I am asked where I am from. My accent immediately marks me as a foreigner, which has been interesting, and a bit difficult to deal with, since I feel so connected to this country, and am a citizen, even if I grew up in the United States.

Over Spring Break, I visited my cousin Julia (actually she is my Mom's cousin, but is only eight years older than me.) She has dual citizenship with France and England, and grew up over there. We had some interesting conversations about identity and dual nationality. When in France she is marked as different by her red hair, and here she is told she is French. However she has come to terms with her dual nationality, and says she has come to realize that it doesn't matter what people think or say, she is French with a bit extra, and British with a bit extra. I guess I need to become confident enough with myself to say that I am British-American and not worry about what other people say.

I think part of it is coming to terms with the fact that I have spent most of my life in the U.S. For the most part they were wonderful years. I grew up a beautiful place, the Eastern Shore of Maryland, and had the opportunity to run around barefoot all summer on our friend's farm, going swimming and horse-back riding and canoeing. And now we have our own water-front property. It was a great childhood. And yet, I have always felt more British than American, and was overjoyed when we moved to the Isle of Wight, the year I turned 12, and was really sad when we moved back to the States a year later.

I always said I would come back to England, and here I am, yet in some ways I feel it is too late. It is silly perhaps to put something down to an accent, but the fact is my accent marks me as American. Even if I were to spend the rest of my life here, I feel that people would still mark me as a foreigner. I suppose that is okay. I did grow up in the U.S., and perhaps if I lived here for the rest of my life, I would be glad to have something that showed where I've come from. And really does it matter what people think? I may have an American accent, tempered with some British words, but I am a dual citizen of the United States and the United Kingdom, nothing can change that. And I have spent a lot of time here in England, and understand the culture better than the other American students on the program. When my Oxford professor found out that I was half-British, he said, "Oh, that makes sense, you seem the most comfortable about being here than any of the American students I have taught before."

I suppose this grappling with national identity is part of the bigger questions of identity that we all deal with throughout our lives. It is all a part of growing up, and figuring out who we are.

Wow, this wasn't supposed to be such a serious post, I was just going to talk about words, and it became about identity, although I suppose language is a huge part of identity. So back to British vs. American language. Like David did for one of his first blogs I have compiled a list of the different vocabulary I hear. It is by no means a comprehensive list, but it is at least a smattering of the different vocabulary we are all learning while here. The British word comes first, and then the American one. In no particular order:

Lorry = truck
loo or toilet = bathroom or restroom
loo roll = toilet paper
amber = yellow (in regards to the color of traffic lights.)
yobs = holigans
sod it = forget it!
knackered = tired/exhausted (this has always been one of my favourite english words.)
knickers = women's underwear
trousers = pants
pants = underwear.

It is important to learn this distinction, otherwise you might be telling someone that you think your pants are dirty, because they have a grass stain on them, and they think you are saying that your underwear is dirty. I often say trousers instead of pants, even in the U.S., because of learning when I was 12. My housemate in the second week heard me say it and said "Oh, that's a really good idea" I hadn't even done it consciously.

bloke/chap=man
lads (in Ireland) = used the way we use the plural guys for a group of people
lass (Scottish/from Yorkshire) = girl
Jacket Potato = baked potato with fillings

chips = french fries
crisps = potato chips

I have a funny story about this confusion of the word chips. I was at Mandalyn's after the Bath Uni LGBT and was really hungry, so asked my friend if they had "chips" meaning did they have "french fries"?

My British friend then said, "Well they have potato chips"

"No," I said, "I mean do they have chips?"

"Yes, they have them, look," and she pointed to the bags of potato chips behind the counter.

"No, not those," I said.

"Oh, do you mean french fries?" she said.

"Yes!" I was a bit exasperated, and amused. I was using the proper British, and she assumed I wasn't, and tried to convert it into "American" which then just got us completely confused. haha.

macintosh = raincoat
lift = elevator
lush (welsh, or at least my welsh friend says it alot. Could also be a Bristol thing, as she lives there.) = very versatile, cool/good/fun/pretty it is basically a positive modifier.
pram = push-chair
humps = speed bumps
you lot = you guys
ginger = red-head
stroppy = bad mood/emotional

ex: She is being really stroppy today. This is another one of my favorite words, I use it a lot, even back in the States.

trolley = grocery cart
stabilizers = training wheels
jumper = sweatshirts
full stop = period

Up until a year ago, if I were to dictate for someone a passage I would say "full stop" instead of period, because when I was 12 and living on the Isle of Wight I would get playfully teased by my English teacher if I said period. "A period is something a girl gets once a month, not what comes at the end of a sentence." So I got into the habit of saying full stop. I didn't realized that I had reverted back to saying period until coming here and being reminded that they say fullstop again.

As I type this my housemate has told me that they also call question marks question points here.

Swear Words, as with many Am. swear words it depends on the context, see if you can figure it out through context:

oh bugger
bugger off
you bugger

Bugger is used quite frequently and isn't as severe as the F word, although often used in the same way. However, the origin of the word isn't very nice, and you would never want to use it in polite company. I think as with most swear words it is mostly used by youth and particular classes.

oh bollocks = expletive. Literally means testicles. Euphemism for bollocks, for use in polite company, is oh bother.

bloody = an adjective. (The F word can be used as an adjective, but bloody is not that severe a word, it is more like the adjective use of damn, although perhaps a bit higher on the bad scale. Although it doesn't sound like that bad of a word, once again, definitely not for good company. My cousin Julia used it a lot, and from context you could tell it was a bad word. :) It would come out when she was particularly annoyed about something. It made me smile to hear her say it.

Well, I need to get to bed. Tomorrow we are getting up early to head to Oxford for a week. Hopefully I'll get some time to write, to fill everyone in about my Spring Break. Thinking of everyone back at Bucknell, and hope registration went well. (On my end of things it was quite stressful, especially when I realized my email wasn't working properly, but I finally sorted things out.) Cheers!