Talkin’ In The Usa Guidebooks Offer Insights Into The Many Ways That Americans Communicate With Each Other
It’s one thing to understand a foreign language well enough to get around and not make a complete donkey of yourself. Like maybe in Mexico, something like “Yo quiero una cerveza fria,” then later, “Donde estan las facilidades?” Stuff like that, basic survival skills.
But when it comes to the subtle nuances of another language, it gets a bit stickier. Every language has its slang, causing non-speakers (and even non-locals who are fluent) a whole buncha problems. A good friend of mine recalls his Chilean mother ordering what she thought was a plate of sweetbreads in Peru - what she actually ordered (in Peruvian argot) was a plate of placenta. You get the idea.
Enter a major niche in the travel book biz, the foreign phrase book. Hundreds on the market, every language known to exist, Swahili to Laotian hill tribes. One of the major producers of these little helpers is Lonely Planet Publications in Oakland, Calif., which has about 35 on its list.
Well, Lonely Planet, not satisfied with decoding the intricacies of getting a cab in Serbo-Croatian, has issued a new guide, this one to the United States.
Like most of the language guides on the market, regardless of publisher, the “USA Phrasebook” has basic information about the country, origins of the language, hints about regionalisms. Unlike most, however, it’s not designed for non-speakers - the assumption is that you already speak English but might become confused when faced with American idioms.
Lemme tell you, this book is an eye-opener. You thought you understood American English? Hah. There’s stuff in this guidebook that’s about as foreign as asking for an apple in Tamil. There are words and phrases I’ve never heard, and I was born American and supposedly make my wampum as a professional communications type.
The section on West Coast Speak is illuminating, for example. It’s divided into sections on Los Angeles, San Francisco and the Pacific Northwest.
OK, time for your test (answers later) - you’re so smart, translate these from LaLa Land:
Gates man.
Fruit and nut run.
AMW.
Crotch rockets.
The Orange Curtain.
Of course, because Northern Californians are a different species and have no reason to have anything to do with the cretins south of Hearst Castle, American as spoken in the Bay Area is articulate and easy, right? Try these:
Breeders.
Five and Tens.
Johnny.
Liquid heroin.
Wiggin’.
OK, so maybe I’ve been pretending to be a shiitake all year, living in a cave, and somehow managed to miss all the language changes. You walk up to me in San Fran and ask me, “Yo, you seen a Johnny?” I’m lost. Or in L.A., ask me to find a Gates man, I’d look in the phone book for the nearest Microsoft office.
Yeah. Anyway, the book is full of arcane Yankeeisms from hither and yon, including a section on American Indian languages. This stretches it a bit. I mean, some Australian visiting the States is going to walk into Pine Ridge and ask for a bathroom in Sioux? (The sections about Indian culture and what to do and not to do in a Native American settlement are very good, however.)
And it’s pretty obvious that the authors are card-carrying fans of Rush Limbaugh (or at least have a thing about Southerners). They devote a whole section to using Arkansas American because, as they put it: “With a bona fide, if educated, Bubba in the White House, the world has become quite fascinated with that netherworld known as Arkansas.” Then (forgetting that Rush was born in Cape Girardeau, Mo., and is therefore a Pure-D Redneck) they dump all over Chitlin English in general and Arkansonian in particular:
Bligernt.
Critter size.
Dreckly.
Fern.
Hominy.
Minner paws.
Well, having spent some time living where the accents are a bit heavy and the pace is a tad slow, I have to offer an objection to this down-putting of Confederate lingo. Not everybody in Arkansas goes around saying stuff like “spar tar” when they mean “spare tire,” but I can see that a bloke from London might have a hitch or two trying to wrestle with a Deep South drawl.
In addition to sections on U.S. peculiarities, such as trying to explain American football and baseball, the book also tries to address such obscure lingoes as Pentagonian (“Collateral damage,” “Code One”); gay talk (“trolls,” “gump”); surf speak (“burly,” “hair ball”); workplace slang (“circling the drain,” “mouse milking”), and movieland (“meat puppet,” “Chopsocky.”)
Never heard most of these and maybe half the others listed in the book. Makes me afraid to go to Cleveland or Joizy without a guide book. Gotta pity the poor tourists from France who think they speak perfect English and end up in Boston trying to translate “go to the packy” or send their kids out for a “grinder.”
Makes you wonder. If your average American slob (c’est moi, y’all) can’t understand his fellow citizens, you have to ask how much good language guides really do.
The “USA Phrasebook” from Lonely Planet is $5.95 at bookstores. Or contact the company at 155 Filbert St., Suite 2511, Oakland 94607. xxxx THE ANSWERS Gates man: A Los Angeles cop, reference to former chief of police Daryl Gates. Fruit and nut run: Airline pilot description of the flight to L.A. AMW: Actress, model, whatever. Crotch rockets: Motorcycles. The Orange Curtain: The cultural and political barrier separating L.A. from Orange County. Breeders: Heterosexuals. Five and Tens: Folks living in the (510) area code. Johnny: A cop. Liquid heroin: Jagermeister and peppermint schnapps. Wiggin’: Stressing out. Bligernt: Belligerent. Critter size: Criticize. Dreckly: Directly. Fern: Foreign. Hominy: How many? Minner paws: Menopause. Collateral damage: The bombs killed a slew of civilians. Code One: President of the United States. Trolls: Old gay guys. Gump: A passive homosexual. Burly: It’s very cold outside. Hair ball: A surfable big wave. Circling the drain: Medical term for someone near death who refuses to give up. Mouse milking: Expending a lot of effort for a small return. Meat puppet: An actor. Chopsocky: Martial arts film.