A Brit Abroad: #1 -- English as the International Language

There is one undeniable huge advantage about English being the international language: everybody understands it.  There's also a big disadvantage.  Everybody understands it.

Perhaps I should elaborate.  For anglophones, or English-speakers, it's a wonderful thing because we can go abroad anywhere and count on most people being able to speak our language, sometimes even fluently.  In some ways, it's nice for non-anglophones, as well, because they only have to learn one foreign language and they can travel pretty much anywhere.  Certainly, if you meet anybody in the air force or who flies at all, their English will often be impeccable -- I remember being very amused going up in a helicopter on one occasion and listening to the air traffic reports (all in English, obviously) and overhearing an American pilot arguing with somebody in air traffic control because his plane wasn't ready to take off.  No matter where you go, you're bound to see English somewhere.  In Brussels, for example, a fair amount of advertising is done in English.  In the metro, they give all the announcements in French, Flemish and English (for some reason, they leave out German, which is the third official language of this country).

However, there are some downsides to being a native English speaker abroad.  One is that -- especially in Paris, for some reason -- you're always going to meet people who are like, "oh, it's an American" (even if you're English or Australian, which kind of grates).  And they then go on to add something like "you never bothered to learn our language" (or they imply it) and you get given the cold shoulder.  Or you hear them complaining that English-speakers never bother to learn their language, and then you try to speak to them and they reply in English and don't even give you a chance to try your hand at their language.  And then you hear them complaining again as you walk away.  And the other thing: if you're an English-speaker abroad, you can NEVER complain about anything in the privacy of your language the way that you could if you were, say, somebody from the Basque country visiting China.  EVERYBODY UNDERSTANDS.  If you want to complain about something quietly to your friends, you have to be telepathic.  Or you have to wait until you get back home.  Otherwise, the consequences can be rather embarrassing.  Not that I'm trying to encourage people to complain, of course, but you get what I mean... I hope.

While going abroad as a tourist and speaking English is all very well, if you're going to live in a country for any length of time, you can't just expect to rely on English.  You have to know at least one of the official languages of the country (where there are more than one).  Even in Belgium, there are some people who expect you to know two of the official languages, but where there are problems, they can... usually... be resolved in English... but still, it's best not to rely on it.

The only exception to learning a native language seems to be if you've come over as an Erasmus student to one of the universities.  Chances are you'll fall in with numerous people from all corners of the world and the only way you can communicate is in English.  When that happens, a form of pidjin English is likely to occur (unless there's a native anglophone in the group).  Everybody in the group understands each other, but most anglophones (while they also understand) will sit there raising their eyebrows or scratching their heads at some of the expressions.  (Seriously, it's really interesting -- you can see the development of language at work.)

Sometimes, though, I wonder if it was worth the bother of trying to become fluent in French.  Admittedly, I'm here to teach English, but everywhere I go, I have to hide the fact that I'm from the UK or I'm not allowed to speak anything other than English.  It can get a little aggravating at times.  I don't mind it if it's to help out lost tourists or what have you, because their English is often better than their French (and I don't really speak Flemish).  But going out with friends, going to parties... as soon as I get introduced as "my English friend--", bang go my chances for speaking in French for the evening.  If you live abroad, you'll find the same thing.  Everybody wants to practise their English.  It's very nice of them, but then... well, you wonder why they complain that anglophones never learn their languages.  If they aren't going to let us speak their language, of course there's going to be a part of us that says "why should we learn it?"  Seriously, the last few times I've been out in town, I've had to pretend I'm Swedish and speak no English at all so that I can speak in French. And so that I can escape from creepy perverts on the metro, but that's a story for another time.  Even in my French class, I try not to say where I come from.  The last time I did, I wasn't able to speak French during class breaks or walking to the metro.  I just got bombarded with English and comments on my accent.

On other occasions, looking around at the English-speaking tourists and being mortified at the way that some of them just expect the world to be fluent in English, I sometimes wish that the international language was Esperanto.  I'm not joking.  That way, I'd be fluent in three languages and nobody could complain that somebody "hasn't made the effort" to learn their language.  I wouldn't be prevented from speaking other languages when I want to, and I also wouldn't get weird looks from people for speaking a foreign language. Really, it's got to the point where the American stereotype has been transferred to the British.  I'm not happy about it.  Personally, I like being able to speak in other languages, even if it's only a few words.  For one thing, it's polite.  For another, non-anglophones love it.

And then again, I count myself lucky that my first language is one that's spoken all over the world.  It makes things like watching films and reading books very easy.  You can find "original versions" in most places, but they're also translated all over the place, so it's easy to start picking up a language if you pick up a book or a film you know and decide to watch it in, say, Spanish.  It's even in music.  A lot of countries listen to English songs.  People may not understand them, but they know them and sing along to them in gusto.  One of the only foreign songs that every English-speaking person knows is Alors, on danse, which, if I remember correctly, was sung by a Belgian and doesn't contain a single English word.  So, yeah, English is an incredibly useful language -- because it's the international language.  If you speak English, you'll never really be lost.  Except for when you go out into the countryside.  English tends to hang around in the cities.  As soon as things start looking green, signs probably stop showing English.

Top Hat, Old Chap!/Meet the Island: #1 -- Cheese Rolling

Well, welcome to the first proper edition of Top Hat, Old Chap!/Meet the Island! introducing England.  Or Great Britain.  Or the United Kingdom.  Contrary to popular belief, all three are actually different, but I'll explain that another time.  (Also popular to contrary belief, the Union Jack is not the national flag of the United Kingdom as the jack is a flag only flown from a specific part of a ship.  And a flagpole doesn't usually qualify as that particular part of the ship.  Anyway.  I might do a proper post on that another time.)

I thought I'd kick things off with an introduction to sports.  This little island is fairly well known for sports -- we have world-famous football teams (please note that, being British, I do not use the term "soccer", and also that there are at least three types of football: American football, 'soccer' football and Rugby football) like Chelsea and Manchester United (and Liverpool, apparently), invented Rugby (at a place called Rugby), and hold a cricket test series called "the Ashes" biannually.  At least, I think it's held in Britain biannually.  I don't really follow it that much.

Those are... well, the famous sports.  I thought it'd be nicer to introduce you to one that is rather less well known than rugby, but apparently just as fun and definitely more dangerous, particularly for the spectators.  This is, of course, the fantastic and slightly bizarre sport of cheese rolling.

I know, I know.  You're probably giving the computer/iPod a bemused expression and wondering what on earth I could be talking about.  "Cheese rolling?"  "Is that some kind of weird metaphorical name?"  "Or is it as dull as it sounds?"  "Why is something with such a lame name called a sport?"

Actually, it came up in my French class recently because a cheese-rolling incident got into the French newspapers a few years back, and it was one of the clippings that happened to get into the text book that we're studying.  It took several long minutes for my classmates to get their heads around the sheer bizarre Britishness of this sport.

Basically, there's this hill in Gloucestershire called Cooper's Hill where the event takes place every year.  Recently, it's not really been official, but never mind.

A native British cheese of a cylindrical form, the Double Gloucester, which comes from the local area, is launched down Cooper's hill and, a second later, the participants give chase.  The aim of the game, as anybody who's played it on Neopets will know, is to catch the cheese before it reaches the bottom... but since it can end up rolling at seventy miles per hour sometimes, it's a little easier said than done, so often it's just the first person to cross the finishing line at the bottom who wins the cheese.

Yeah, you heard right.  The first prize is the cheese that just went charging down the hill.  But don't worry -- it's quite a big cheese.  Apparently the event can be traced back as a tradition of at least two hundred years, although the official Cheese Rolling website of the Cooper Hill event does mention that it might initially have come from a pagan ritual celebrating something or other to do with the turn of the seasons.  I can't remember exactly what.  Interesting fact: due to rationing during the Second World War, a full cheese couldn't be used for the race, so a wooden cylinder with a hollow middle containing a lump of cheese was pressed into service.  I can only imagine how much more severe the injuries would have been if the spectators were hit by that.  Cheese is one thing, but wood?  Ouch.

Injuries are common, particularly in the nature of bad sprains and broken bones.  In fact, from what I can make out, injuries tend to be just as common among spectators as among the participants.  While the event was still official, the St John's Ambulance used to be there to pick up anybody needing to be taken to hospital (which as a regular occurrence), but I don't think that's happened for the past couple of years.  But for the past couple of years, there don't seem to have been many injuries.  Considering that the St John's Ambulance reported that eighteen injuries in 2009 was "low", 2010 and 2011 have practically been miracles.  Oh, and ten of those eighteen injured people were spectators.  I suppose that's just what happens to you when you get hit by a rampaging Gloucester.

The article I was reading about in my French text book was even funnier, though, in a sort of morbid way.  Considering the steep, concave nature of Cooper's Hill and the speeds of the cheese you're chasing after, it's kind of normal that somebody might twist an ankle or even end up somersaulting down the hill.  Anyway, the year that this particular article was written, the cheese managed to start off some miniature landslides/some of the stones/rocks decided to accompany it down (note: this may not have been at Cooper's Hill, because that place seems to be predominantly made up of grass and mud).  Three of the participants were injured badly enough to be hospitalised, but a full thirteen of the spectators were taken out by the cheese and hospitalised too.  Can you imagine that?  Seriously, that's impressive on the part of the cheese.  Thirteen.  I feel sorry for those poor people, though.  I mean, I've been chased by a sheep, but getting attacked by a cheese?  And how do you explain that to your classmates or work colleagues when they ask about the broken arm?  Yeah, a cheese ran me over.

I'm pretty sure that cheese-rolling takes place in other parts of Britain, but probably not on such a large scale as at Cooper's Hill, which attracts attention from around the world.  I don't think it's something I'll ever get to try as my ankle's in pretty bad condition, but I might risk watching it someday.  Personally, I think it's the mother of all bizarre and crazy sports.  Anybody got any competitors to that opinion?

TBG <3