No comprendo (I think).

6.27.12

Thank the deities above, I received my luggage at 4pm today, and thankfully, nothing was stolen! This is an important lesson to learn—don’t worry about things you can’t control. It only wastes time and emotional energy. Somehow I find that I’m pretty good at doing that. I swear I’m working on it.

There are so many differences between the culture in the United States and the culture here in South Africa. The most surprising thing I’ve learned so far is that no one in this country takes malaria pills. They say that they don’t need to. Perhaps South Africa is different from other African countries, because according to the locals, malaria is very rare here. Even though none of the locals take the pills and it’s winter right now (so mosquitos are dormant), I’m still going to take my pills in order to keep my friends, family, and myself from worrying. I think that’s a reasonable decision on my part.

The second most surprising thing I’ve learned is that I can’t understand anything that anyone says. This surprises me because the official language of South Africa is English. There are three types of South Africa accents: British, Afrikaans, and the African tribal languages. While I’ve found that the highest rate of comprehension occurs while speaking to people with British accents, I still get incredibly confused on an hourly basis due to their use of different terms, such as “petrol” for gas, “chips” for fries, and “porridge” for oatmeal. I learn at least ten more every day. It is always an embarrassing, albeit hilarious, moment when the Brits and I have misunderstandings. Most of my conversations with my British host family proceed as follows:

HOST MOM: “Would you like some porridge?”

ME: “Sure! (pause) What’s porridge?”

HOST MOM: “Well, it’s this!” She pointed to a transparent jar with oats.

ME: “You mean oats?”

HOST MOM: No… (pause) “What does porridge mean to you?”

ME: “Is it like oatmeal?”

HOST MOM: “…oatmeal?”

ME: “You know, when you put water in oats and stir it around.”

HOST MOM: (excited) “Yes, yes; it’s similar to that, I think.”

ME: “Oh, ok, great!”

Pause.

HOST MOM: “Would you like some porridge?”

ME: “Yes thank you, I would love some porridge.”

Ah, how I love the Brits. I’m lucky that my host family is British because at least they can understand the most important questions, such as, “Can you check if I broke the shower?” and “Do you have skim milk instead of whole?” Speaking of skim milk, I learned today that the Hoedspruit supermarket only receives three pints of skim milk per week. My host mother bought me one of these quarts because I’m not fond of the “full cream” that the family normally drinks. Before I knew about the infrequency of milk delivery, I drank half the pint in one sitting. Oh bother. Mama-at-home, I miss our gallons.

The second easiest accents to understand are those of the African tribes. There are so many African immigrants in the United States that I’ve actually gotten used to the accent over the years, because at Harvard, all of the taxi drivers are African. Who knew that grabbing a taxi back to the Quad after a night out would help me in South Africa. I’m glad to have such a rich educational experience behind me. I’m able grasp the general concept of a sentence, but the details are always fuzzy. That’s do Harvard, that’ll do.

The hardest accent for me to understand is Africaans, party because I’ve had no experience with it before. The American entertainment industry loves to showcase all sorts of exotic accents: Italian (Moonstruck), French (Lumiere from Beauty and the Beast), Greek (My Big Fat Greek Wedding), German (every Hitler movie), British (every movie based in the Renaissance time period or on a Shakespeare play), Japanese (Memoirs of a Geisha), Native American (Pocahontas)…the list goes on. But Africaans has very little exposure. The only popular American movie I can think of right now with Africaans accents is Invictus…and they weren’t even strong accents. The accents here are strong. Like on South African Airlines. For 14 hours.

ATTENDANT: “What would you like to drink?”

ME: “What?”

ATTENDANT: “Would you like a drink?”

ME: “What?”

ATTENDANT: “A drink.”

ME: “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

MAN NEXT TO ME: “He’s asking if you want a drink.”

ME: “Ohhhhh. Can I please have tea?”

ATTENDANT: “creamnsugar?”

ME: “What?”

ATTENDANT: “Do you want creamnsugar?”

Pause.

ME: “I really just don’t know.”

ATTENDANT: “Ok.” He started pouring cream into my tea.

ME: “NO, please don’t do that! Can I just have sugar?”

ATTENDANT: “Sure.”

Phew. I spent a lot of lingual and emotional energy on that plane. Hopefully within the next week, surrounding myself with Afrikaans speakers at the vet will help me become more familiar with the accent. Right now, I just look like a confused American. But I’m rocking it. Just like I rock my tangerine shorts.

Peace until next time,

Aria