English or English?

I came out of my room to chaos. Boo was walking towards the kitchen with peed-in pajamas in hand. Her brother made some wise comment and she threw the soiled garments at him. He was eating breakfast, ducked and somehow managed to splatter apple sauce all over.

This was all in the first 30 seconds while I looked on in stupefied incredulity.

Taking control, I grumbled that I would clean the kitchen and told Boo to go throw her pajamas in the toilet - she usually throws them on the floor in that room until I can wash them out in the bathtub later. I didn't think anything else of it.

Kneeling on the floor wiping at globs of apple sauce, I hear Scooter shout, "What are you doing with your pajamas in the toilet?"

I ran into the bathroom to see Boo standing with her pajama bottoms dripping over the toilet seat and onto the floor.

"What are you doing?" I yelled.

Boo looked at me, shrugged and said, "I don't know." She seemed surprised that I was angry.

I was incensed. What was she thinking? I really couldn't imagine why she put her pajamas in the toilet - she had never done that before and she had not seen anyone else do it either. I couldn't figure it out. It wasn't until I dropped her off at school that I had time to think about the whole scene.

Then it hit me. Toilet - bathroom. It was really a matter of semantics - language if you will. I learned British English first and it is my default dialect. When stressed or excited, I use 'toilet' instead of 'bathroom' or 'rubber' instead of 'eraser.' When I'm not under pressure, I know the differences between the two dialects and I can pick and choose which words I use.

This wasn't always the case. When I first moved to the USA, I had no idea which of my vocabulary was British, African, or American. And it didn't seem to matter too much. If I said 'khondi' and drew a blank look, I tried 'veranda' or 'porch.' If I said, "It's your go," they understood I meant, "It's your turn." Even if they did chuckle a little at my expense, people usually understood what I meant. When they didn't...one ended up with confused waitresses or college roommates in hysterics.

After my first year in the USA, I was preparing to fly back to Malawi. Having been away for a while, I thought I better buy some anti-malarial medicine. I asked my college roommate how I should go about finding some, and she suggested calling various local pharmacies. I called the first and asked if they sold prophylaxis. That is what my mother had always called them - "Girls, come and take your prophylaxis now."

The pharmacist said, "Of course we sell prophylactics."
"Oh good. Do I need a prescription?"
"No. Most of them are 'over the counter.'"

What good luck! This was going to be easier than I thought.

"Really? Do you have Chloroquine or Quinine then?"
"What? No."
"Mefloquine?"
"No."
"What do you have then?"
The pharmacist hung up.

I was so confused. I turned to my roommate, only to see her silently rolling on the floor, unable to breath for laughing so hard. When she was finally able to explain without laughing, I was mortified to discover the pharmacist imagined I was playing a prank on him. Either that, or he thought I was a complete idiot. Who knew that Americans associate prophylaxis with condoms? Obviously I didn't.

Understanding Americans was very hard for me. For one thing, most of them did not enunciate their words like I was used to. For another, they spoke so fast - like they were in a race to spit their words out. I could listen to Robin Williams for a whole hour and not understand one single word. I would sit at the lunch table in the cafeteria, listen to people and try to figure out the subject of discussion. I didn't know their rock groups, their TV shows, their geography, their history, or their slang. I knew most of the words they used, but the way they put them together made no sense.

Finally, in my second year, I found a translator. We didn't have the same classes, but that was OK since I understood my professors. What mattered is that we were joined at the hip at all social functions from then on - lunch, dinner, parties, Star Trek study breaks, and what have you. I would smile and nod like I understood a person then lean over surreptitiously so Rachel could whisper an explanation in my ear. Then I could respond appropriately.

Occasionally, she had to translate the other way. One time, a waitress asked me what I wanted to drink. I asked for water. The waitress said,
"What?"
"Water."
What?"
Finally, Rachel said, "She wants wader."
"Oh."
I don't know which of us was more perturbed, the waitress or myself.

Today, I stubbornly hold to certain anglicisms like 'cockerel' rather than 'rooster' and 'football' rather than 'soccer.' I had to give up other words like 'rubber' because, well it seems a bit prepubescent to insist on asking for a rubber when I know Americans associate 'rubber' with condoms.

I also try to avoid asking a British person for the bathroom ("Why? Do you wish to take a bath?") and asking an American where's their toilet ("In the bathroom, of course!"). I told Boo to throw her pajamas in the toilet, imagining the room, not the porcelain fixture. Boo heard 'toilet' and wondered why her mother wanted her to put her pajamas in the dirty toilet water. Still, we must obey mother - so we have pajamas in the toilet. It is all very simple, really.