As I’ve started texting more people in Britain and communicating with them through various digital means, I started noticing something strange: People kept added ‘x’ or ‘xx’ or even ‘xxx’ to the end of their messages. I could not comprehend it. In one conversation specifically, there were so many letter x’s that I started to wonder if my friend had set ‘xx’ as her signature when she messaged people.
I floated along entirely oblivious until someone finally clarified the situation for me. I remember the question exactly, because it was such a weird one: “Why don’t you ever use kisses in your messages?” “What.” Then came the explanation. Apparently, these various x’s are called ‘kisses.’ Similar to emojis, they are used at the end of messages to convey tone. Specifically a light-hearted and friendly tone. It’s how British people overcome the tonal difficulties of digital messaging. For example, a short sentence (like “Where are you?”) could be seen as abrasive. The ‘x’ or multiple x’s softens the message (making it “Where are you? xx”). The number of x’s also changes the meaning. Typically, the more x’s, the sweeter the message. While not always used, in a familiar setting they are the default for many. Luckily for me, if you don’t use them people understand why rather than feel offended. What is so cool about this to me, though, is that I’ve never seen it in America. I could explain it to any number of my American friends and they will have never heard of it. I don’t know if x’s are used in other countries, but I do know it is a modern linguistic colloquialism that has not reached across the ocean. In order to assimilate to the British culture, I have attempted to use these x’s when I feel so moved in conversation. It still seems a little silly to me, but now that I understand why these x’s are there, the tone of the conversations has drastically improved. It’s incredible how communication can develop so differently. Kisses are probably my favorite difference between the two countries so far just because of how specific it is. So until my next post, Xxx.
0 Comments
Illuminations is an annual lights festival in Sunderland along the coast. I went yesterday with some friends.
I debated creating a post on this upcoming subject, mainly because I don't want friends and family to feel bad for me. They need not worry; I continue to enjoy my time across the ocean. But just like in everything, there are ups and downs during my time here.
On this blog, I’ve really focused on the positive sides of my experience. But I think to show only the positive side of my year abroad would be deceptive to myself and to everyone reading these posts. To keep it honest, I’ll now share a revelation from a few days ago. This week was more stressful than previous because things are starting to settle down at the university, but I still feel out of place at times. Classes are picking up, people are falling into rhythms, and homesickness strikes at odd times. Beyond that, I’ve found being abroad really changes how I perceive personal setbacks. Knowing that I am in England for only the school year creates a strange dilemma for myself. I’m here for another eight months. A long time. Yet each day I get a little closer to having to leave. One day flies by. One week flies by. One month flies by. One year flies by. And since I’m here, I feel the need to treasure each day and each moment. To constantly be enjoying myself and making good memories. That’s a lot of pressure to put on some random Tuesday. Especially a random Tuesday when it’s raining and I’m tired and I’m confused and nothing seems to be going right. When I don’t have a good day, it’s not just a bad day. It’s a bad day in England. I feel like I’m failing myself and my entire experience. Then the doubt (which I’ve dubbed “culture-shock doubt”) creeps in: what if I’m not supposed to be here, what am I doing in a foreign country, I’ll never do things right in this country, everyone thinks I’m dumb and weird, I’m frustrated. Confused. Exhausted. I have to remind myself that being in England doesn’t mean I won’t have bad days. Bad days are a part of life no matter what country you’re in. Most days I do well here. When I explain what I’ve done to people I can’t help but feel proud of myself and what I’m doing. I was told by a native British person the other day that I’ve adapted well to England. That made me feel like maybe I was doing this whole thing right. Maybe I am supposed to be in England. Yes, I have bad days in England just like in America. And, yeah, sometimes I miss home and sometimes the culture-shock doubt is crippling. But I’m in England, something I’ve dreamed of for ages. I’m having fun and doing well most of the time. That’s something to celebrate. It’s been exactly a month since I left for England, so I am attempting to review a time that has been so different from everything I have ever known.
The biggest challenge has been getting used to little changes. England is relatively similar to America, but there are still so many differences. They’re all small and they chip away at my sanity at points. Whether it’s the slang or the food or certain cultural norms, there’s been a lot for me to keep up with. I am participating in as many activities as I can. There’s something new to do every night. For example, tonight I am going to be watching American football with English people. I think it will be a fascinating experience. Related to journalism, I am writing for the online university website, SR-News, and have been given the role of News Planner. This week will be my first attempting that. Not sticking to only print this year, one of my classes is called “Newsroom,” and every Friday we go in at 9:30 a.m. to produce a live radio show at 3:30 p.m. I’ve only done the class twice so far, but it has been intense and exciting working as a radio reporter. Already I have interviewed a taxi company and attended a press conference at a police station. To branch out my social circle, I auditioned for a play titled “The Lion, The Witch, And The Bedroom Door”- a stage adaptation of “The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe.” I got the part of Susan, the older sister, which was a far bigger role than I had dared hope to get. The people and the show are full of energy (and I don’t even have to fake a British accent). It reminds me of all the theater I did back home while still pushing me outside my comfort zone. One thing that has surprised me is the number of international students around me. I didn’t realize, but 28 per cent of students at the University of Sunderland are international. Some are doing just an exchange semester or exchange year like me, but others have chosen to complete their entire course at this school. The number of different countries and cultures I have met at has been mind-boggling: Singapore, Nigeria, Germany, Australia, Ireland, Malaysia, China, Spain, Poland, Japan, Egypt, Jordan, Greece. When I sit in any group, we get a small sample of the world. It reminds me how big this planet is and how many cultures there are to understand. Sunderland and I are agreeing well with each other. My goal this month is to start exploring the areas beyond this city. Everyone keeps saying I should go to Newcastle (and Manchester and Liverpool and Yorkshire just about every area in the country) and Scotland isn’t that far away either. There’s a lot to explore and time just keeps on ticking. I continue to feel eager for what it all has to offer. [We wrote a personal article for my Magazine Writing class this week and my professor encouraged me to write about the linguistic challenges I've faced in this country. This is what I came up with.] I’m sitting in a taxi in a foreign country on my way to the place I’m about to call home for the next nine months. Beside me, a middle-aged driver is trying to make small talk. I say trying because it’s a pretty one-sided conversation at this point, specifically his side. He is very kind and is giving me lots of advice for the school year… I think.
I’m hanging on to his every word and I could have sworn when I got in the cab that we were speaking the same language, but as we have settled into the conversation, I can’t understand a thing he’s saying. His words dance around my jetlagged mind and I keep wondering if this man is speaking English or just making vaguely English-sounding noises. I’ve already said “What?” to him at least 20 times and I’m sure he’s starting to think that I’m stupid. I’m in a foreign country, but that country is England and I come from the United States. Never did I imagine that after speaking English all my life I would struggle as much as I am to communicate with a fellow English speaker. My eventual solution during the cab ride is to start nodding and smiling. And I’m just hoping that he doesn’t ask me any more questions, because I might cry if I have to say “What?” one more time. Back in January, I decided to study abroad for the school year. It took an aching amount of paperwork and quite a few headaches, but I somehow ended up here at the University of Sunderland. I thought I was making things easier for myself by going to another English speaking country. What I didn’t take into account was how diverse English can be as a language. Speaking with the same letters and words doesn’t necessarily mean we’re going to sound similar or even use those words for the same things. I’m told that as far as understanding the English language goes, the Northeast is not the best area for an American. Even other English folk from more southern places struggle to understand ‘Mackem,’ the slang speech of Sunderland. The method that I’ve developed to navigate this northern bastardization of the English language is called the “smile and nod.” When I’m speaking to a northerner (especially far north, especially with loud music playing in the background, and especially if one or two drinks have been consumed by the speaking party before the conversation), there are entire sentences that I lose. When this occurs, I smile and nod and hope that an active response is not required. It has about a 55 per cent success rate. This strategy has helped me through a few conversations, but more and more people are catching on. I smile and nod, raising my eyebrows like I’m really interested in what this person has to say. They smile back, also raising their eyebrows, but in a way that requests a response. I keep smiling and nodding, panic creeping into my eyes as we both realize that I’m entirely lost. “You didn’t catch any of that, did you?” Nope. For whatever reason, many English people do not seem to be interested in properly pronouncing words. Syllables blur together, letters have different sounds. And there are only so many times I can repeat “What?” before I start to feel like a idiot. That is without even mentioning all the slang words (like ‘marra’), the similar words that have different meanings (chips and crisps/candy and sweets) and the fact that everyone keeps asking me if I’m all right as a greeting. English may be my first language, but I’m not so sure what is being spoken around here. It is a challenge, but a few weeks have passed since that cab ride and I am already doing better. In fact, during my most recent ride with a (different) middle-aged driver, I can proudly say I understood a solid 83 per cent of what he was saying. This may have simply been because he had less of an accent, but I like to think it was because I’m improving my Mackem comprehension. The speech in Sunderland and England in general can be bizarre and it does feeling like people are speaking a foreign language sometimes. That doesn’t mean I can’t learn the local dialect. I have to focus a bit more when people (especially middle-aged cab drivers) are talking. But I’m adapting and learning. And who knows? Maybe I’ll be Mackem-fluent by the time my year abroad is over.
It was a full moon the other night. Anyone who knows me, knows that I notice the moon. A lot. Seeing it while at the bus stop, it made me realize that I've been here for almost a month now. In that month, I seem to have seen and felt a million different things. There have been times that I have felt every mile between myself and Colorado, and times when I have called my flat home. I've started classes, joined clubs, learned about cultures, done and experienced so many things I never thought I would. It seems to me that this month has been both the shortest and longest month of my life time. But even if everything is different, the moon continues to shine down and remind me that wherever I am, I am happy and I am home.
|
Amy Golden
Amy will be spending the academic year at the University of Sunderland in England studying journalism. Archives
February 2018
Categories |