Now that my English relatives have been firmly entrenched in the U.S. for nearly a week, it’s been interesting to watch them assimilate.   So far they’ve done a fairly good job, save for the fact that no one can understand what the hell my cousin Iain is saying.

My relatives’ accents waver between proper English and unintelligible slang, especially if they’re chattering between each other.  Often, I’ll stop them mid-sentence and politely ask, “What the eff did you just say?”

For instance, one of my favorite stories involves a conversation that went a little something like this:

Iain:  Weh wuh weh?

Angela:  Wheel ya’ kneh weh wuh weh!

I had to ask them to repeat themselves three times before I finally gleaned what the hell they were yammering about.   To translate for the British impaired, it meant:

Iain:  Where were we?

Angela:  Well, you know where we were!

After several days of hanging out with them, I’m starting to pick up the lingo.  Unfortunately, the rest of rural America is not.  Poor Iain is starting to get a complex because every time he has the slightest interaction with an American, they look at him gaped-jawed and say, “What?”  To date, he’s had to ask three different people three different times where the bathroom was … and not one of them got it on the first try.   At the rate he’s going, Iain is going to wet himself before this trip is over.

Angela’s accent teeters between the Queen’s English and strong Northeast Jordie brogue.   She speaks very eloquently and like most English people is pleasant to a fault.   Everyone eats Angela (and her accent) up with a spoon.   And, yes, she does use classic English terms like “Cheerio!” and “Pip! Pip!”  Although I can’t tell if that’s for dramatic effect or whether she’s trying to make herself even more adored with her American public.

From what I can tell, they use their accents for powers of good.  But remember just because they speak English, that doesn’t mean you’ll understand them.   Same planet.  Different worlds.