Thursday 25 July 2013

You Can't Go Home Again

This is my 21st summer in the New World, and increasingly it is more familiar than the old world. I watch British movies and have to look the new slang up on Urban Dictionary. I try to stay up to date with what is happening in the old country, but let's be honest, I am out of touch.

For the record, I will admit openly I am quite bitter about my mother country. We won't dwell on it, but let's just say if I never see it again, I won't shed any tears. This blog is not about explaining that, but just for now, refer to the title. The England in my heart is in a different time, and it's gone. Move on. 

I am what is known as an ex-pat. What's the difference between that and immigrant? None really, it's just a posher term. It carries with it, however, a connotation that the move is temporary, however long. While I would never return to England, unless I was a multi-millionaire, I don't intend to live in Canada for the rest of my life. It's just too cold. That's all. Great place otherwise.

After all these years, have I assimilated? No. The great crime of the ex-pat is that he is always a little island of foreignness wherever he is. He never really becomes a local. Even my son James, who came to Canada a week before his first birthday, identifies as an Englishman. You'd never know; he talks like a Canadian, dresses like a Canadian, eats Canadian food, drinks Canadian beer, and watches hockey. But get him talking and you discover something deep in there that won't ever go away.

So here's what has happened. Over the years I have (not systemically or anything you understand, just at my whim) adopted some North American habits/words/choices, and eschewed others. It's actually really rather wonderful to have multiple cultural influences to select from. I simply pick and choose. I like this, I don't like that. And, the best part is, nobody ever challenges it. If I choose the North American option, they don't even notice. If I choose the English option, they just put it down to me being a foreigner, and leave me to it.

Brilliant!

Which leads me to the List of The Chosen Ones. This is a list of those aspects of life that are different either side of the Atlantic, because not everything is, after all, we all call a book a book, the colour red is widely considered to be the same thing, and there's no cross-ocean argument that the first meal of the day is breakfast. In fact a person with more time to spare than me, could probably do some very interesting research on why some things are common to both, while others are very different. I see no pattern to it myself.

So, I have chosen to adopt, because I prefer them, the following North American "things":

Use of the letter z when spelling words ending with the sound "ize". It used to be the preferred choice in Britain too. I would not start spelling all words phonetically, but when the usage is a) traditional, and b) sensible, it wins me over.

Not having a meal called "tea". Because it's silly. 

Pronouncing tomato and vitamins as "tomayto" and "vytamins". Even though it's not logical. I like them better.

I have chosen to retain, because I prefer them, the following English "things":

Use of the u in words like colour, honour, neighbour, etc. Partly (but not wholly) because I know the removal of the u in the US dictionaries was a decision by one man - Noah Webster. Not only do I consider this linguistic tyranny, but having discovered that he was a Fundamentalist Christian of the worst kind, and, well...who wants to do what they say?

Laying the table as follows: knife to the right, fork to the left, and a dessert spoon at the top, if dessert is served. Even if I switch to right-handed fork for certain meals, I like it laid this way. I am told that this is also a correct cutlery placement in posher North American society, and that's good enough for me. 

Pronouncing the h in herb. Eddie will explain it.



Referring to children's toys as Lego (not Legos), trolls (not troll dolls), Ludo (not Parcheesi), a see-saw (not a teeter-totter).

This list will be added to, this blog will never be finished.

14 comments:

  1. I'm with you on the Lego, Ludo and See-saw. The correct way to lay a table is something I've never been certain of. I don't think I was ever comfortable holding a fork in my right hand. And like you, England for me is not just a place, it was a time. (When 'phone boxes were well-proportioned, red, and smelt funny. And towns still had odd little back streets with ancient houses that had stood for hundreds of years without changing more than the colour of the paint on the plaster)

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    1. Phone boxes mostly smelled of urine round our way.

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  2. You wrote: "The England in my heart is in a different time, and it's gone."

    I feel that way about California. It is home to me, but it is not welcoming to me or anyone else who does not make a crap load of money. Still, I have poppies as decorations all over my house. I wonder if my family has made the mental connection that the California state flower is the poppy... Probably not.

    I will never e a Texan, though. Although I will likely live here the rest of my life, I feel like I don't fit. Probably never will.

    If you moved here, it would be easy to fine a big plot of land to farm and raise animals - no problem. But you would go through a lot of trouble to keep wine or other alcohol in the house. And you'd likely have little in common with your neighbors. But it's WARM here. Okay, I lied. It's hot.

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    1. I don't think I would get along with Texas. And that's all I'm saying. Everyone knows it's nothing disparaging, as my best friend hails from Texas. It's just different. And....let's face it, me and the Christian right don't exactly see eye to eye.

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    2. The christian right doesn't like me much either. The big cities like Dallas and Austin are okay, but they are expensive.

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    3. I have a hard time with modern cities. No soul. I like old world cities. I think I'd like New Orleans too.

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    4. I'm European, LOL, there is no stink I've not known before! You should try Belgium!

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  3. New Orleans stinks of sewer. The history is cool and the art is good and the music is good and the food is good, but it is hard to get past the stink.

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  4. I read so many British (or English, as we used to say) novels as a kid. There wasn't much in the way of reading material where I grew up in the wilderness of Northern New Mexico. Grannies attic contained boxes and boxes of smut written in the around the 1920's, and I lived in the attic.
    I was much older when I discovered that my use of u and z was unpatriotic by my 6th Grade teacher, Mrs. Ginder.

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  5. My mom left the Philippines and I suspect that she sorta feels the same way as you. But she's been in the US longer than she was there. Ask her if she feels American and she would most definitely say yes. But some things--they stay with you. For my mom and my aunties, it's food.

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    1. Well, there isn't really much food that I miss/can't have. English food isn't what people think. I'm not going to get into it, but really, there are maybe 4 things I crave and I can live without them. I don't feel Canadian. I don't relate to that at all, not even after 20 years. The only time it has a "place" is in any discussions of Canadian vs. something else for example if we are discussing healthcare or weather.

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  6. Born and raised Canadian.... I was a spelling champ at school and we ALWAYS put the "u" in colour and honour etc.. I set the table (on the rare occasions it actually gets "set", the same way you do.. It was part of my "Proper Girls do it this way" upbringing... although I'm still baffled by 3 forks at one place setting.. I don't have enough forks to do that..*LOL*

    I love a cup of tea mid-afternoon..but not the meal.. I just need the "pick me up" that it provides on certain days. Or the break from the mind numbing drivel at work... either way, a cup of tea helps.

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  7. You might really enjoy British Columbia.....All the blessings of this wonderful country, but warmer. We are not on 'Lotus land', but our seasons are more moderate than back East. I am most definitely an immigrant.

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  8. In Lotus land, not on. It is the area West of the Coast Mountains where they have rain all winter and daffodils in March.The Interior is entirely different, both in climate and culture. I love, love, love the Kootenays, the South East corner. After more than 40 years I am still amazed and grateful that I have been allowed to live my life here. We pay the price in terms of economic so-called well being. As long as I can be on this land I feel rich.

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