You Say Tomato, I Say Red Citric Fruit Because I Can’t Bloody Win This One
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again – life is difficult when you’re an American English speaker in England.
Actually, I’ve probably never said anything like that. What I have more likely said is “Stop fucking making fun of me, you prick!” That’s more along my lines of distinction, really. I’m all about the class.
Some things you know about – an elevator is a lift, a truck is a lorry, and Bob’s Your Uncle. This is not even taking into consideration the list of things you learn about – busies, nowt, numpties, berks, revising is homework, lollipop ladies, the list goes on. You learn as you go and most of the time it happens in stride.
Other issues tend to sneak up on you.
I learned while being pregnant that the differences in language are huge when it comes to beaver talk. You can’t say anything for fear of being found out for being American, and then all you want to do is hide and say “No really! I’m not trying to breed out the British population!”
Take cervical, for example. Americans pronounce it “ser-vickal.” Cervical. Innocuous enough sounding, really, for something so mucus-y. And yet here it’s pronounced “ser-VIE-kul”. The “i” in cervical just can’t sit the fuck down and be cool, it has to get all up in your face. So you have nurses saying they need to do a cervIcal check and all you can do is wonder if that includes a bike chain or if that’s optional.
Estrogen (pronounced “ess-tro-gen” in my home planet country) is another one. And it not only takes the pronunciation and buggers it about, it changes spelling to. Ladies and the few gentlemen still reading, I would like to introduce you to oestrogen. Where, you might ask, does that rogue “o” come from? Let me tell you – it was going to visit “cervical” but got scared off by the hard “i”. Oestrogen is pronounced “EEEEEE-stro-gen” over here. The “o” acts as a manly buffer, taking the “e” and beating the snot out of it so that it stands tall.
Zebra is different. This is making any and every Baby ABC book a fucking chore, as people’s creativity for “z” really only runs to the stripey pony wanna-be. In the US it’s “ZEE-bruh”. Here it’s “zebb-rah”. You might think you could just skip the “z” part of the book as you don’t really encounter a lot of instances using the word zebra, only crosswalks here are also called zebra crossings. So zebra sneaks up on you every time, the damn dirty bastard.
Oh and the letter “z”? It’s not just a letter, folks. It’s pronounced “zed”. So singing the end of the ABC song smacks you upside the head. “Double-you, exx, why and…uh…ZED.”
I weep. Yea, verily, I doth.
Yogurt is a tricky one. Pronounced “yo-gurt” in the Big Country, on the Small Island it’s “yugg-urt.” I trip on it every time. It’s mad my particular passion for the stuff even more annoying because while I’m happy to pronounce it the Queen’s Way I find the British pronunciation of it impossible to get my mouth around. I may settle for “that dairy stuff that you add fruit flavor to, otherwise it looks like what you retrieve from the tip of a condom.”
Condom, for the record, is also pronounced differently here.
See how hard it is?
On Friday I heard the most shocking pronunciation yet.
BBC 4 (aka what I call “the price of hay radio station”) was talking about psychics. They kept using a word that I couldn’t figure out. When I did figure it out, I went a little psycho.
“Oh my God!” I shouted. “They’re saying the word ‘occult’!”
“Occult,” replied Angus, correcting me.
“No, sorry,” I replied. “I will never say it like that.”
In the States it’s pronounced “uh-CULT”. Here? “OCK-ult.”
“OCK-ult,” Angus reiterated.
“No,” I replied firmly. “I will change the way I say many, many words. I will alter “tomato” to fit my purposes, I will “revise” and pump “petrol”, but as god is my witness I shall never pronounce occults that way. The way you pronounce it here sounds like a probiotic yogurt drink,”
And I pronounced that one the old-fashioned American way.
-H.
PS-I am way behind on emails, and I know it and feel guilty, so hang on and I’ll get to you shortly hopefully. The new job – which I’m enjoying so far, by the way – is what can only be considered a drain on my time in terms of laundry, blogging, and taking out the recycling.
I must have missed the uh in the spelling for occult :P Mind you, I’m probably a bit biased as Aus bases a fair bit of it’s pronunciation on British English.
In the reverse way, it used to drive my Mum nuts when we watched Sesame Street and they sang the alphabet and prounced z zee :)
you and angus should make a video demonstrating the different pronunciations, it would fun :)
being australian i find that we get a blend of the pronunciations, but probably leaning more towards the british way. occult is definitely pronounced the way you say, though :)
We always giggle a bit over the pronounciation while we’re listening to BBC (which we do a fair bit, in the car at least). While I love the lilt of the majority of British accents, I have to shamefully admit it’s a bit difficult to follow at times, as I just don’t understand the pronunciation or word choice at times.
I totally get this. I am an American English speaker in England as well.
I really notice the difference when I am reading children’s books I picked up across the pond. What comes to mind is ladybird.
But your examples are much more humorous (notice how I spelled that?).
Thanks for the enjoyment,
Karie
Till the day I die I will never get my un-fringed head around the word ‘bangs’!
I was born in England but moved to the States when I was 4. When we moved here, my mother started doing daycare in our house and I had to translate for her on a regular basis, the kids had no idea what she was talking about. Even now, 25 years later, my parents still use British expressions and pronunciations and it still embarasses me. Then I went back to England a few years ago to get a master’s degree and, despite my knowledge of the different expressions, still managed to say things incorrectly. I will never forget the laughs I got when I told a group of friends that I had to go home to change because my pants were dirty. I, of course, meant my jeans but they thought I was talking about my underwear. You just can’t win.
Yep I have come across all of those and I would like to add a few random ones I discovered. Leprechaun: US = Lep-rah-cahn (like James Caan), UK = Lep-reh-corn. Corn?? The other one that I don’t get is the pronunciation of the surname Doherty or Dougherty (not Docherty). US = Dough-herty, UK = Dock-herty even when not spelled (spelt lol) Docherty.
Ah, the teasing when I moved back to America after four years of English elementary school. Try asking for a rubber in middle school.
Ugh. I hear your pain on ALL of these. Now add al.u.min.um versus al.u.min.i.um pronunciations. Or CON.tro.ver.sy versus con.TROV.er.sy. And don’t even get me started on spelling differences. Kerb anyone?
My husband likes to remind me that they invented the language. I always quickly respond that while that’s true, we fixed it.
Hahaha! I’m sitting here laughing at all these differences. Cer-VIE-cal – seriously? I could never wrap my head around that. And OCK-ult cracks me right up. I do love rhyming slang though. :-D It’s like code, and therefore fun.
Oestrogen? That totally made me think of Legally Blonde…
The English language is all about subliminal domination. Take the word “semester”. It’s a perfect example of this school’s discriminatory preference of semen to ovaries. That’s why I’m petitioning to have next term be referred to as Winter Ovester.
Interesting…!
I can definitely understand the frustration. ;)
Thank you, thank you, thank you for explaining what “revising” means! I’ve read books for years where the people were revising without ever knowing what it actually meant!
For the record, it’s pronounced Zed here in Canada too!
I feel for you, really, I do. I was born and raised in Boston. Half my family originates from Alabama, the other half from New York. I’ve been speaking French since I was eight and half my friends are from the UK or Germany.
No one understands things I say.
Take, for instance, that word to mean the measure of muscle capabilities one has. According to everyone out here, it is supposed to be pronounced “strayngth.” And when I say “strehnth,” I get dumbfounded looks and not a soul knows what I’ve said. Or that word to mean “blow job.” When I bring up the topic of “fell-ah-shee-oh,” people tend to think I mean a perfume brand. Same with “ab-sahnthe” (not that I say either of those that often). Or worst of all – when I mention that I’m “tweaking out” over a paper due the next day. Yeah. Apparently, out here, that means I’m doing crack. Nice.
So I feel for you. Really, I do. And I fully support NOT changing your pronunciation. If anyone hassles you, just remind them that, in a few months, being American will be cool again.
jade: I never taught you to say occult the way she does! it’s most definitely OCCult.. not ocCULT!
When I came to live in Australia I was amazed at the differences, since I’d been led to believe that English and Australians spoke the same language!
i’m an american in canada and i still have this problem. what about decal? stateside it’s DEE-cal and here it is DECK-al. that one gets me every single time.
As I recall the skeletal system is sku-LEE-tal there, right? So what’a skeleton?
I’m actually wrestling with something similar regarding baby names right now. I love the German pronunciation of some girls’ names, but they’re just not as pretty in English.
And that thing about zee and zed. I hate it. I’m in Canada and we’re supposed to say zed, but the American influence is so strong here that many say zee. I ‘never’ know what’s coming at the end of the ABC song!
Yep! Except my problems are the other way round!
Don’t forget VITT-a-mins, along with your YUGG-urt!
(I’m having a “Three Men And A Little Lady” moment.)
Don’t forget VITT-a-mins along with your YUGG-urt!
(I’m having a “Three Men And A Little Lady” moment.)
Very funny. I found it very distracting when having a discussion with a British friend about headaches. Meeeegrain!! Just sounds wrong!
So, have you been to Australia? What about how we talk? Hehee.
Ooooh, I forgot about rubbers and vitamins!
Those two examples do my head in.
Helen,
You asked what music I used for Bo’s montage. It is Lullaby by Dixie Chicks. I posted it in the comments on my site but I wasn’t sure you’d stop back by to read them. :)
Thanks for the birthday wish.
Jamie and Bo
Came back to shamefully admit that I giggle every time I hear “mili-tree” instead of “mil-uh-tarry.”
Hoping in the next four years it’s a word neither side of the pond will have to use as often.
I loved my 3 weeks in Australia. They speak English… after a fashion. I’m certain that I annoyed the heck out a bunch of them, too. Not because my American English was bothersome, but because I naturally fall into the speaking patterns and accents wherever I visit. My friends would punch my arm when I started talking to an Irishman because it sounded, to them, like I was mocking the dude. Most Aussies appeared more amused than angry. Apparently my Strine isn’t, umm, good.
Too funny! I spent a great deal of time translating for Americans and Brits last night at at BBQ. “Hundreds and Thousands” was one example that caused all kinds of confusion. Its “Jimmies” people. Jimmies.
I’ve nearly killed americans with my pronunciation of porpoise.
poor- poise not poor-puss.
Poor-puss to brits sounds like paupers
others that have them rolling in the aisles are
Urinal:
Your-in-al v Your-eye-nal
Adult:
Ad-ult v udult
P.s. your comment about cream-crackered the other day reminded me that the first time I said Knackered, they thought I said naked..
This week I told an American that she was an anorak and she had to go away and research it. What, you don’t get train spotters over there? My son thinks that zee follows Y but that’s because he learned his alphabet from Barney the Monodentasaurus.
Oh, I hear you. And what about Robert Winston’s pronunciation of umbilical cord as umbi-LIE-cal cord? The first time I heard that I almost fell over backwards, and I’ve been exposed to British English for much of my life.
Wait, like Yakult? I’ve never heard this before! Must, must, must test British co-workers with this one on Monday.
I had an applicant whose surname was “Beauchamp”. I went to high school with a girl who had that last name, pronounced, bow-shomp. You know, all French-like? Guess what it is here? BEECHAM. It’s fucking BEECHAM. Why? Common knowledge apparently.